Bart's Blog

How Churches Drift Toward Death—and How to Turn Towards Life by Bart Denny I heard a story today that reminded me of too many I have heard before. It saddens me. It bothers me. The church I heard about seems to think they have it nailed, so I’m sure they won’t be seeking my consulting services—or anyone else’s. Not that a consultant’s report would make it beyond a file cabinet—stuffed away, never to be read. While I admit it may take many years—and that bad decisions will likely outlive most of the decision-makers—I remain less than optimistic about the church's future. There Are Patterns I’ll be the first to admit: I don’t know everything there is to know about church health, vitality, growth, and renewal. And I praise God that He still does what only He can do. I never want to box in the Holy Spirit. After all, we worship a God who parted the sea, turned water into wine, and reversed a crucifixion with a glorious resurrection. So no, I would never say that God can’t revive a chur...

by Bart Denny There are moments in life when what we want most from God isn’t relief—it’s clarity. Many of us can endure pain more easily than we can endure not knowing why. When life goes dark, we instinctively reach for explanations. We tell ourselves that if God would just explain what He’s doing—if He would tell us the reason, the lesson, the purpose—then we could handle the rest. And so our prayers subtly change. They stop sounding like cries for help and start sounding like demands for answers: What did I miss? What are You trying to teach me? Why this? When the silence stretches on, something settles into our hearts. Not outright rebellion, but frustration mixed with confusion. We’re still praying. Still showing up. Still believing. But underneath it all is an assumption we rarely name: If I understood what God was doing, this would be easier. That assumption isn’t unique. It’s deeply human. We live in a world that runs on explanations. When something breaks, we diagnose it. Whe...

Psalm 30 and the Dark Night of the Soul by Bart Denny, Ph.D. Some of the hardest seasons in life don’t arrive with drama. They don’t come with a phone call in the middle of the night, a diagnosis, or a single moment when everything obviously falls apart. Instead, they come quietly. They sneak up on us. Life keeps moving. We still get up in the morning. We still go to work. We still participate in family life and say what we’re supposed to say. From the outside, everything looks mostly normal. But inside, something feels off. You wake up tired in a way sleep doesn’t fix. Joy feels muted. Prayer feels thinner than it used to. And what unsettles you most is that you can’t point to a single reason why. There’s nothing obvious to fix, no clear problem to solve, no crisis to explain. You’re still praying. Still trusting God. But you find yourself wishing God felt closer. Wishing His voice seemed louder. Centuries ago, the Spanish friar and poet, Saint John of the Cross, gave this experience ...