Sitting here with mud still caked under my fingernails from yesterday's outdoor disaster. Well not disaster exactly. Kids had fun. But I'm questioning some life choices.

Three months ago our outdoor worship night was magical thing everyone's still talking about. Yesterday's nature scavenger hunt turned into me chasing escaped toddlers through poison ivy while parents pretended not to notice their kids having meltdowns.

Outdoor ministry is weird like that. Same person planning same basic idea completely different results depending on factors you can't control.

September family picnic seemed brilliant. Move monthly dinner outside enjoy nice weather let kids run around instead of being cooped up in fellowship hall.

Picked spot under our big tree because shade is good right? Made sandwiches bought chips set up nice tablecloths like I knew what I was doing.

Fifteen minutes in ants everywhere. Not just few ants. Like biblical plague levels of ants.

Coming up through tablecloth crawling across sandwiches one poor toddler had ants in his sippy cup and started that kind of crying where you know whole event basically over.

"Oh that tree?" Mrs Williams says while we're frantically moving food. "Yeah we never put anything under there. Huge ant colony."

Thanks for heads up.

Had to relocate entire picnic to asphalt parking lot. Classy. Nothing says family fellowship like eating on hot pavement while kids complain about sitting on concrete.

Still finding ants in my car two weeks later.

Checked weather obsessively for spring egg hunt. Beautiful forecast all week. Sunny perfect temperature no chance of rain.

Saturday morning gray drizzly and cold enough that parents were digging sweatshirts out of car trunks.

Did fastest egg hunt in church history. Kids running around getting soaked while parents huddled under pavilion looking like they'd rather be literally anywhere else.

Wrapped in twenty minutes instead of planned two hours. Everyone rushing to cars like building was on fire.

But kids? They loved it. Getting wet was apparently best part.

Parents looked miserable. Kids telling stories about it for weeks.

Still not sure if that counts as success or failure.

Campfire night seemed classic. Turns out having actual fires at church involves permits and insurance calls and regulations I didn't know existed.

Gave up. Bought propane fire pit thing instead.

S'mores with thirty kids still more complicated than expected. Kids dropping marshmallows into fire fighting over sticks getting chocolate everywhere except actual s'mores.

One six year old caught his marshmallow on fire and flung it in panic. Landed on someone's shoe.

Total chaos from adult perspective pure joy from kid perspective.

For ministry leaders learning nature doesn't care about your timeline, anyone discovering kids handle outdoor chaos better than adults, people ready to stop fighting weather and start working with it.

Sarah comes up after service looking stressed goes "I can't do VBS this year. I know you're counting on me but my mom's having surgery and I just can't commit to anything else right now."

My first thought? Oh no. Sarah's one of my best volunteers. She knows all the kids. She's reliable. How am I gonna replace her for VBS?

My second thought? Sarah looks like she's about to cry and here I am thinking about my volunteer schedule instead of caring about what she's going through.

That's when hit me. Been so focused on making sure ministry runs smoothly that I forgot volunteers are actual people with real lives and problems and limits.

Been doing this whole thing backwards honestly. Treating people like they exist to serve ministry instead of ministry existing to serve people.

Had uncomfortable realization that maybe I've been more concerned about filling spots than caring for humans. Which is pretty much opposite of what ministry supposed to be about.

Started really looking at how I approach volunteers and realized I've been seeing them as solutions to my problems instead of people with their own needs.

Need someone for preschool? Ask Jessica. Need coverage for middle school? Call Tom. Someone to plan activities? Sarah's great at that.

Never really asked what they wanted to do or what they were good at or what was going on in their lives. Just plugged them into whatever hole I needed filled.

Jessica mentioned few months ago she'd love try teaching older kids sometime because her own daughter was moving up to elementary. Did I follow up on that? Nope. Too busy keeping her in preschool because that's where I needed her.

Tom's been doing same job for three years and probably bored out of his mind but I never asked if he wanted try something different.

Sarah's been taking on more and more responsibilities because she's so good at everything but I never checked if she was getting overwhelmed. Just kept piling stuff on because she never said no.

No wonder she looked ready to cry. Been treating her like employee instead of person.

Instead of "can you cover this class?" started asking "what's something you'd like to try doing?"

Instead of assuming people are happy in their roles started asking "how's this working for you? What would you change?"

Tom mentioned he'd always been curious about planning lessons but felt intimidated. So we started having him help with curriculum selection.

Jessica got to try teaching older kids and absolutely loved it.

Mike who I had doing setup every week mentioned he'd prefer working directly with kids. Turns out he's amazing at connecting with shy kids.

Who knew? Actually asking people what they want reveals what they want.

For ministry leaders learning volunteers are people not just spot-fillers, anyone discovering that treating humans like employees kills engagement, people ready to build ministry around people instead forcing people into ministry slots.

Used to think event success was simple. Count how many people showed up subtract number of major disasters and if more good things happened than bad things call it a win.

Turns out measuring success is way more complicated than that.

Last spring had family movie night that looked like complete failure on paper. Projector died fifteen minutes in half the popcorn got burned and it started raining so hard we couldn't hear backup audio we switched to.

But three months later kids were still talking about it. Not the movie nobody remembered what we were supposed to watch. They remembered how we all ended up sitting in circles telling stories when technology failed. How parents started sharing embarrassing childhood stories.

Was that successful? Depends how you measure it.

Spent years obsessing over attendance numbers like they meant something definitive. "Thirty-seven people came to family game night!" Sounds impressive until you realize twelve of those were toddlers who spent most evening crying or trying eat game pieces.

"Only fifteen families at spring picnic." Sounds disappointing until you consider those fifteen families actually talked to each other kids played together across age groups and two families who'd never connected before exchanged phone numbers.

Numbers are easy to count but they don't capture what actually matters.

Like mom who told me our Valentine's party was first time her shy daughter willingly participated in group activities. That conversation doesn't show up in attendance spreadsheet but probably more important than head count.

Asked our elementary kids what their favorite part of summer kickoff was. Expected them say games or prizes or ice cream.

Nope. Favorite part was when Mrs Johnson's lawn chair collapsed and she ended up sitting on ground laughing so hard she couldn't get up.

That moment lasted maybe thirty seconds. But it's what they remembered three months later.

Best indicator of event success might be volunteer willingness help again. If volunteers enjoyed themselves enough sign up for next event something went right. If they're suddenly too busy help with future things that tells you something too.

Had summer cookout that looked successful from outside. Good attendance kids playing happily parents chatting and relaxed.

But three of my regular volunteers mentioned afterward they felt overwhelmed and unprepared. Those volunteers didn't sign up help with fall festival.

Event might have been fun for families but wasn't sustainable for people making it happen. That's kind of failure even when everything else goes well.

For ministry leaders learning smooth logistics don't guarantee meaningful impact, anyone discovering disasters sometimes create best memories, people ready to measure what actually matters instead what's easy to count.