A personal guide to integrating mind, body, spiritual life, and calling in the second half of life through long-term faithfulness, shared ministry, and disciple-making.
By Chongzhu (Paul) Zhang
By Chongzhu (Paul) Zhang
In my previous article, From Holding Fast to Learning to Let Go: The Journey of My Thinking and Spiritual Growth, I reflected on seven in-depth conversations about my life.
I began to recognize changes in my thinking and character: from impatience toward learning to wait, from insisting on my own judgments toward listening to different perspectives, and from trying to drive church development personally toward appreciating the importance of building a team.
Yet reviewing those experiences raised an even more important question:
Now that I recognize both my growth and my limitations, how should I live the years ahead?
I was born in 1975. In 2026, I am fifty-one years old.
God willing, I may still have twenty or thirty years—or even longer—to learn, live, and serve. But I also know that my time is not unlimited.
When I was younger, enthusiasm was often enough to propel me into new endeavors. Today I need to think more carefully: What truly deserves my investment? What should I continue to pursue? What should I be willing to set aside?
Recently, I have been examining my life through the four dimensions of HUMAN 3.0: mind, body, spirit, and vocation.
My purpose is not to assign myself a developmental rank. Rather, in the light of biblical truth, I want to understand my gifts, responsibilities, limitations, and future direction more clearly.
I am writing down these reflections as a guide for the next ten years of my growth.
Looking back, I realize that I have always held strong convictions.
Once I believed something was right, I was willing to stand by it, even at considerable personal cost. That disposition helped me face difficult circumstances.
Yet experience has taught me that holding firmly to a judgment does not necessarily mean understanding the whole matter.
Our thinking is shaped by our upbringing, cultural setting, personal history, and the limits of our knowledge.
I lived in China before coming to the United States, where I encountered different political institutions, social cultures, theological perspectives, and educational approaches. These experiences led me to reexamine some beliefs I had once taken for granted.
I am learning an important lesson:
A truly mature mind is not one that never changes, but one willing to revise its understanding in the pursuit of truth.
As a Christian, I believe Scripture is a fundamental authority for faith and life. But I must also acknowledge that the authority of Scripture and my personal interpretation of Scripture are not simply identical.
I need to study the biblical text carefully while taking seriously church history, theological scholarship, and the insights of other believers.
Looking ahead, I want to pursue three commitments in the growth of my mind.
First, I want to remain open to learning.
Whether the subject is theology, history, social science, artificial intelligence, or other emerging technologies, I am willing to keep learning whenever it helps me understand the world, understand people, and fulfill my calling.
Second, I want to develop sounder judgment.
When facing major decisions, I do not want to rely solely on experience, intuition, or enthusiasm. I want to investigate the facts, listen to differing views, and consider long-term consequences.
Third, I want to cultivate ongoing reflection.
At least once a month, I hope to review my important decisions and ask myself honestly:
Have I corrected a mistaken judgment this month?
Have I overlooked someone else's perspective because I was impatient?
Have I treated a personal preference as though it were an unchangeable principle?
I believe intellectual growth is not merely knowing more. It is also becoming increasingly aware of the limits of what I know.
In the past, I often placed great importance on getting work done.
Whether I was pastoring, studying, writing, or exploring new technology, once I saw value in something, I was ready to devote substantial time to it.
As I grow older, however, I increasingly recognize that my body is not an unlimited resource.
Energy, attention, and the capacity to recover are all finite. If I neglect my body over the long term, even my best aspirations may become difficult to sustain.
Scripture says:
“Therefore honor God with your bodies.”
—1 Corinthians 6:20
This verse reminds me that my body is not merely an instrument for accomplishing work. It is also a trust that calls for faithful stewardship.
I want my future life to rest not on bursts of enthusiasm and sheer willpower, but on a sustainable rhythm of health.
First, I need to value sleep and rest. Rest is not wasted time; it is an essential part of ordinary human life.
Second, I want to maintain regular exercise suited to my circumstances. The purpose is not to prove that I am still young, but to preserve physical function, energy, and quality of life.
Third, I want to develop steadier eating habits. Rather than pursue extreme methods, I want to choose practices I can maintain over time.
Finally, I need to learn to recognize signs of fatigue. When my body needs rest, I should not always invoke my sense of mission as a reason to keep working.
Over the next decade, I hope to have the strength to continue pastoring, spend time with family, keep learning, and enjoy the everyday life God gives me.
For me, therefore, physical growth is not merely a health concern. It is also a matter of long-term faithfulness.
This is an area in which I believe I need to keep reflecting deeply.
As a pastor, much of my life revolves around church, preaching, prayer, Bible study, and pastoral care. These are callings I treasure.
Yet I have begun to ask myself:
Am I sometimes so focused on what I do for God that I neglect the reality of my own relationship with him?
A pastor may explain Scripture every day and still need quiet time to listen to God's Word personally.
A pastor may pray continually for others and still need to speak honestly to God about his own weaknesses.
A pastor may help others face life's difficulties and still need someone to walk alongside him.
I hope my spiritual life will include not only responsibility, but also more stillness, gratitude, repentance, and rest.
Jesus said:
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”
—Matthew 11:28
I increasingly understand that true rest does not mean the absence of work. It means knowing, even while working, that I am not the center of the world and I am not the Savior of the church.
The church belongs to Christ.
The growth of a human life does not ultimately depend on a pastor's ability. I can faithfully plant and water, but God gives the growth.
Looking ahead, I want to learn three lessons more deeply.
First, I want to preserve personal devotional time that is not directed toward preparing sermons or accomplishing ministry tasks.
Second, I want more genuine spiritual companionship—relationships in which I, too, can be heard, challenged, and accompanied.
Third, I want to learn to accept circumstances that do not unfold according to my plans.
Some situations call for immediate action; others require patient waiting. In either case, I want to learn to remain faithful before God.
True spiritual maturity is not believing I can carry everything, but recognizing ever more clearly how much I need God's grace.
In the past, I often wanted to make sure things were done well myself.
When I saw a need in the church, I tried to address it. When I discovered an opportunity for growth, I moved to pursue it. When I encountered new knowledge or technology, I wanted to master it quickly.
This readiness to act has given me valuable experience.
But I have also learned that one person's time and abilities are limited. If every important task depends on me, even meaningful achievements may not last.
So I am learning to understand my pastoral calling differently.
My task is not only to become someone who can serve, but also to help others become people who can serve.
Since 2022, I have consistently encouraged online morning Bible study in our church.
Over the years, I have seen brothers and sisters gradually become able to pray publicly, lead Scripture readings, facilitate gatherings, and participate in different ministries.
I am grateful for these changes. Yet I know they are only the beginning of discipleship.
In the future, I hope to establish a spiritual companion training system.
Its purpose is not to produce people with titles. It is to equip believers who are willing to accompany others genuinely as they grow in faith.
I hope to begin with a few relatively mature believers who are ready to take responsibility.
They can learn how to listen, build relationships with new believers, accompany others in Bible reading and prayer, and support one another through everyday challenges.
Then these companions can help train new companions.
In this way, pastoral care will not rest on the pastor alone. More believers will be able to serve one another and build up the body of Christ together.
Paul writes in 2 Timothy 2:2:
“And the things you have heard me say in the presence of many witnesses entrust to reliable people who will also be qualified to teach others.”
I hope this verse will help guide our ministry in the years ahead.
At the same time, I want to integrate my doctoral research, sermon writing, website development, and exploration of artificial intelligence.
Doctoral study helps me deepen my theological thinking.
Preaching and writing help me organize and share what I learn.
My personal website helps preserve this material over time and make it available to more readers.
Artificial intelligence can reduce repetitive work and make it easier to organize, translate, and publish content.
These endeavors should not compete with one another. They should serve a larger calling together:
To help people understand biblical truth, accompany them in spiritual growth, and build a discipleship framework that can be passed on over time.
As I clarify the direction of my life, I also need to face habits that could hinder my growth.
I need conviction, but conviction does not mean that I am always right.
Major decisions should be grounded in careful investigation, shared deliberation, and practical testing.
The church is not my personal project.
Even when a direction is sound, I must consider whether coworkers understand it, want to participate, and are able to carry the responsibility.
I have always been interested in new things.
But the more interests I have, the more carefully I need to discern what matters most.
I want to reduce unnecessary experimentation and devote more time to long-term goals I have already identified.
I need to remind myself that a project that fails, or a plan that stalls, does not mean my life has lost its value.
My identity rests first in God's grace.
No undertaking, however important, should routinely deprive me of rest, family time, and a healthy everyday life.
If what I call success consistently requires sacrificing these foundations, I need to reexamine what I mean by success.
I do not want this article to remain merely an encouraging exercise in self-reflection.
So I have decided to focus the coming year on four areas.
Mind:
Establish a monthly habit of reflection and decision review, and learn to make major decisions with greater care.
Body:
Maintain regular sleep, exercise, and rest, building a healthy way of life that can support sustained ministry.
Spirit:
Beyond daily pastoral responsibilities, protect time that belongs to my relationship with God, and give greater attention to family and spiritual companionship.
Vocation:
Make the formation of an initial team of spiritual companions a central goal for 2027.
I want to begin with a small number of people, combining training, real-life accompaniment, and regular reflection to develop a form of discipleship suited to our congregation.
At the same time, I intend to continue my doctoral studies and gradually integrate research, writing, my website, and AI tools into a knowledge base that can grow over time.
I do not expect to accomplish everything in one year.
But I hope that each year I will understand my direction more clearly and carry my responsibilities more faithfully than the year before.
As I consider the next ten years, one question becomes increasingly clear:
If one day I am no longer a pastor, no longer preaching, and no longer able to manage my website, what do I hope will remain?
I hope to leave more than buildings, articles, recordings, or videos.
These things have value, of course. But even more, I hope to leave behind people who have truly grown.
People who can read Scripture, pray, and exercise discernment for themselves.
People who can depend on God in times of difficulty.
People who can care for others and walk alongside them.
People who can continue sharing the gospel and making new disciples.
If one day I no longer participate in the daily work of the church, yet brothers and sisters continue caring for one another and the congregation continues to grow in health, I will be grateful.
I also hope my writing and research will become lasting resources of knowledge, able to help people even many years from now.
But I know that how much of this hope comes to fruition is not entirely up to me.
What I can do is faithfully carry the responsibilities entrusted to me today.
When I was younger, I may have been more concerned with how far I could go.
Now I am becoming more concerned with how many people may be helped by the road I have traveled.
In the past, I wanted to accomplish more myself.
Now I want to build ministries that can continue without depending entirely on me.
In the past, I often understood perseverance as always pressing forward.
Now I am learning that slowing down, reconsidering, or even pausing a plan can also require courage.
I still want to explore new things.
I still want to keep learning.
I am still willing to make sacrifices for faith and calling.
But I hope my actions will be driven less by impatience and grounded more deeply in truth, wisdom, love, and long-term responsibility.
If I were to summarize the direction of my future life in one sentence, it would be this:
Rooted in biblical truth, aiming at growth in life, guided by long-term faithfulness, working through systems building, and centered on making disciples.
This is not a declaration of something I have already achieved.
It is a direction I am willing to practice throughout the years ahead.
Looking back, I am grateful for God's guidance through the different seasons of my life.
There have been successes and setbacks.
There have been convictions worth holding and moments that called for repentance.
There have been achievements for which I am thankful and hopes not yet fulfilled.
I do not want my past experiences to keep me living in the past.
Nor do I want uncertainty about the future to keep me from moving forward.
I want to keep learning to understand myself.
To understand other people.
To pastor the church more faithfully.
To steward my body, time, and energy more wisely.
To turn knowledge into wisdom, experience into help for others, and personal calling into an influence that can be passed on.
I know I remain limited.
But I also believe God's grace is sufficient for me.
As Paul wrote:
“Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on.”
—Philippians 3:12
May the years ahead be not merely busier, but clearer in purpose, more balanced, and more faithful.
And may God use my limited life to bless many others.
November 2026
Chongzhu (Paul) Zhang | Indianapolis, Indiana, USA
Allow Google Analytics to help us understand anonymous website usage? Prayer text, form content, and other sensitive text are not sent to analytics.
