A Message from Pastor Ryan
Our Story
There were three steeples on our road when I arrived at BDCC—three churches that once stood tall in our city.
But by the time I got here, two of those steeples had gone dark. One church had closed its doors and become a mosque. The other had faded away and was replaced by a Sikh temple. The third steeple—the last church standing—was ours.
I would stand in the parking lot, looking at those steeples, knowing what they represented. They told the story of what was happening to churches like ours all over the country. Congregations were aging out. Neighborhoods were changing. And instead of adapting, churches were quietly dying.
Before we arrived, church consultants analyzed BDCC’s situation and made their recommendation: Move to the suburbs. The congregation was shrinking. The neighborhood was diverse and working-class. The finances weren’t sustainable. The facility was worn. The best move, they said, was to sell the building and start fresh somewhere easier.
For some, that idea was tempting. Many members had already left, and those who remained felt like BDCC’s best years were behind it.
But we knew in our gut that moving wasn’t the answer.
Jesus never told His followers to run to what’s easy. So we rejected the consultants’ advice. We would not retreat. Instead, we would take the city.
The work was exhausting. Casting vision is one thing—living it out is another. I was in my late 20s with a wife and three kids, stepping into a church that was hanging by a thread. If this didn’t work, I had led my family into years of struggle for nothing.
Every Sunday wasn’t just about preaching; it was about convincing people to believe in something they couldn’t see yet. Every meeting meant navigating resistance from those who wanted BDCC to stay the way it was. And behind every bold decision was the nagging fear: What if this doesn’t work?
Yet every time I teetered on the edge of doubt, God showed up. He never gave me all the answers, but He gave me just enough evidence to keep going.
The right people showed up. Unexpected donations arrived exactly when we needed them. New families walked through our doors and said, “This is what we’ve been looking for.”
God didn’t remove the weight, but He gave me proof—over and over—that He had not abandoned us.
A decade later, our sanctuary is full—young families, college students, Spanish-speaking neighbors, and longtime members who stuck it out. BDCC is young, diverse, and growing.
We are no longer asking, “Can we survive?” but “What is God calling us to do next?”
Some people wonder why a pastor would step away when the church is thriving. But on the heels of revitalization, now is the time to answer that question: Where do we go from here?
The truth is, I wasn’t well-prepared in Bible college for strategic planning. This leave will give me the space to pursue the training I need to lead BDCC into its next chapter.
It’s also about my family. My wife and kids have been partners in this mission, but they’ve also felt the weight of its pace. They’ve given so much of me to the church, and now it’s time to give some of myself back to them.
We didn’t retreat from our city when things were hard. We stayed. We fought. We built.
Now, it’s time for me to step back and listen—so I can return ready to lead BDCC into whatever God has next.
To the Lilly Endowment Clergy Renewal team, thank you for considering this request—not just as a grant, but as an investment in the future of BDCC, in my family, and in the calling God has placed on my life.
This grant is more than just time away—it is the space to rest, reflect, and be renewed. So THANK YOU for making that possible—and for giving me this opportunity to tell you what makes my heart sing.