Leader Profile: Adam Wood
ROBERT HYATT
October 2, 2019

Adam Wood  serves as the lead pastor at The Neighborhood Church  in Garland, TX. A native to the Dallas area, Adam served as a worship leader and young adult pastor before joining the community that would re-plant as TNC in 2016. Adam loves music, the Dallas Mavericks, nights out with his wife Amy, and dance parties at home with his two red-headed daughters.

How would you describe the area your church is in?

Garland is a large suburb just to the northeast of Dallas and TNC is smack dab in the middle of it. Our area can be described by a lot of “Multi’s” — multi-ethnic, multi-socioeconomic, and multi-generational. We do most of our community engagement and relationship-building in and around an ecumenical community center situated in the middle of a dozen different low-income apartment complexes.

How would you describe the journey of pastoring the Neighborhood Church? What have been some of the milestones/different seasons?

The Neighborhood Church relocated and re-planted with a core team that had a strong sense of who we were called to BE before we ever determined what we were called to DO as God’s people together. That season of discerning our identity — of a “being” that precedes “doing” — almost directly parallels my own journey as a pastor.

Like many church plants, we built TNC with wet cement. Our identity, place, and core convictions are a strong foundation that also gives us just enough flexibility to figure things out as we go. But “going” out into the neighborhood together was a vital shift in our early days. If we were ever going to live up to our name, we had to get out into the neighborhood. The wet cement of how we do what we do has taken different shapes in these 3 years. We’ve hosted block parties, picnics, movie nights, VBS for neighborhood kids at a community center and we’ve made significant partnerships with two of the largest homeless ministries in Dallas. Most significant, however, is our Neighborhood Clothes Closet. By offering free clothes, shoes, and toiletries we’ve been able to pray with and build relationships with over 250 families in our community.

Ultimately, we’re just trying to follow Jesus together for God’s kingdom in our neighborhood. What I’ve discovered is that cultivating a Jesus-centered culture of embrace, transformation, and mission takes time (especially in the land of consumerism and mega churches). We are really good at raising money to support our kingdom partnerships or to start kingdom experiments. Now we’re in a season of learning the slow work of building a kingdom presence and a kingdom community.

Looking back, what do you know now you wish you had known when you first started the Neighborhood Church?

That it is NOT all up to me! The church’s vitality is not solely contingent upon my preaching, my leadership, my guidance, or my amazing ideas. Because our church was moving through significant transitions and toward an eventual re-plant, I believed the lie that it was up to me to fix it, build it, and hold it all together.

Every time I’d sit with Jesus I’d be reminded of my identity as a beloved son of the Father’s… but then I’d stand up, walk away, and try to earn it. God used that time to remind me that 1.) I’m not alone and 2.) He’s always working. It took some time for that to sink in.

As you think about what you’ve been able to do so far in ministry there what are some things you have done/tried that have worked well?

We launched a Neighborhood Clothes Closet that has provided clothes and toiletries to more than 250 families and school uniforms for almost 200 children. Really, though, it’s about the slow work of building relationships, praying with our neighbors, and seeing God’s kingdom come in unexpected ways.

We’ve seen physical and relational healing. We’ve seen lonely neighbors find a friend. We’ve seen new Christians in our church catch a fire for loving their neighbors as themselves despite socioeconomic or ethnic differences. After 2 years, however, we’re still asking the question, “How can we become more effective in helping our neighbors become part of God’s family?”

What hasn’t worked so well? What have you had to rethink/reimagine/rework?

What hasn’t worked well is the move from serving our community to incorporating our community into the life of the church. We thought it was because our neighbors we met at the Clothes Closet or VBS just needed a ride to our worship gathering. What we’ve seen so far is a lot of interest that have translated to only a few visits.

I think Verlon Fosner of the Dinner Church movement is right when he says that our churches have a sociological problem. Are our worship gatherings hospitable to all people and not just young, white, middle class Christians? Is our church building hospitable to seekers? Are our worship gatherings really the best “front door” to our church?

In an effort to re-imagine the expectation that “they” should take a step toward “us” — we’re trying to take a step toward our neighbors by creating space for relationships to grow in our shared space within the neighborhood. This Fall we plan to launch our own expression of a Dinner Church we’re calling The Neighborhood Table. We started with the relationships we’ve already formed through the Clothes Closet and we’re excited to break bread together and see where God takes us.

What is one failure you experienced and what did you learn from it?

When I became the primary preacher in what would become The Neighborhood Church, I doubled the amount of sermons I had ever preached in only four months’ time. We were in a season of transition and I had placed some unrealistic expectations on myself. I thought I had to preach my way into becoming a vibrant church and pastor. I soon found that I couldn’t sustain my unhealthy rhythm of work and rest, nor could I live up to the emotional, spiritual, and functional qualities I had judged myself on.

All of this led to a panic attack moments before I was going to preach one day. So there I stood on stage in a very awkward and pregnant silence, unable to speak with all the anxieties still swirling in my head. Eventually, I said I’d pray and that we would just sing again. (Of course, that’s the service we had a guest worship leader!) That’s when someone said, “No, we’re going to pray for you.” Our community surrounded me and as they laid hands on me, the idol of self-reliance began to crumble.

I’m still learning to create space for healthy disengagement. I’m still learning to follow Jesus’ rhythm of work and rest. I’m still learning to let go of the unrealistic expectations I put on myself and others.

What is something you’ve been hearing from or learning from God in this last season of leading?

The phrase “Give me an undivided heart to revere your name” from Psalm 86.11 has been echoing in the back of my head for the better part of a year. God is continually inviting me to stillness, rest, and contemplation to allow him to put the disparate pieces of my life into something that is both holistic and wholly his.

What do you dream/hope/pray the Neighborhood Church looks like in five years?

My hope is that we would become a life-giving church in the neighborhood that would one day reflect the neighborhood in all its diversity as we follow Jesus together. Basically, we want to live up to our name as we invite all people into life with Jesus in the kingdom of God.

By Bob Hyatt • October 7, 2026
“When God works in us nothing is useless, and nothing is spared.” - Jeannine Brown, Carla Dahl and Wendy Corbin Reuschling, Becoming Whole and Holy “There is no circumstance, no trouble, no testing, that can ever touch me until, first of all, it has gone past God and past Christ, right through to me. If it has come that far, it has come with great purpose, which I may not understand at the moment.” - Alan Redpath Here's something I've noticed about people as they get older: they tend to go one of two ways. They either get sweeter with age or they get crankier. They grow wiser and more like Jesus, or they grow bitter and more like the worst version of themselves. That's because life is formation. Everything we do and everything we go through shapes us one way or the other, mostly depending on how we respond to what happens to us, whether it's extraordinary or completely ordinary. Ministry works the same way. I've watched leaders come out of nearly identical trials in completely different shape. Some come out stronger. Others come out deeply wounded, discouraged, and ready to quit. The difference usually comes down to where they see God in the middle of the struggle, absent or present, and what questions they ask about it. Some ask, "God, why is this happening to me?" Others ask, "God, what could you want to form in me through this?" Both views of God will shape us, and so will both questions. They just shape us in very different directions. In my experience, the most common sin in church leadership is an obsession with numbers and results, paired with neglect of our own souls. On top of that, we rarely stop to notice how those numbers and results, and how ministry itself, are shaping us. So here's my suggestion: stop working so hard to develop your ministry and start noticing that your ministry is developing you. How you handle the realities of church leadership will determine not only what your church becomes but what you become. Leadership and ministry will form you. The only question is: into what? One tool God uses: the fishbowl Some people hesitate to become a pastor because it opens them up to scrutiny, and now and then to outright criticism. When I was a young leader, I hated the "fishbowl effect" of ministry. Everyone was watching me, and my mistakes seemed to count for a lot more than anyone else's. It felt deeply unfair that flaws that wouldn't even register at most people's jobs could cost me my job, my reputation, and my community. Never mind that maybe it bothered me so much because I had such a generous supply of those flaws. After years of living under the steady gaze of critics and cranks, I see the fishbowl differently. These days I actually welcome it. Richard Baxter, a Puritan pastor in the 1600s, put it this way: “While you are as lights set upon a hill, think not to lie hid... do your work as those that remember that the world looks on them... ready to make the worst of all... and to make faults where they cannot find them.”[1] Baxter understood that anyone who calls others to live like Jesus is going to get called out when they don't. His advice? Live like the world is watching, because it is. Some people in your life are ready to yell "Hypocrite!" at the first opportunity, to point out failings they share themselves, and, as Baxter says, even to invent faults when they can't find real ones. And Baxter's fishbowl had a few neighbors peering over the fence. Ours has a livestream, a comment section, and someone screenshotting the announcements. But Baxter goes further. He says we should be glad about it: “As you take yourselves for the lights of the churches, you may expect that men's eyes will be upon you. If other men may sin without observation, so cannot you. And you should thankfully consider how great a mercy this is, that you have so many eyes to watch over you, and so many ready to tell you of your faults; and thus have greater helps than others, at least for restraining you from sin. Though they may do it with a malicious mind, yet you have the advantage of it.” As a Pastor, you have more eyes on you and more people paying attention to how you live. That means you have more help than most in living well and avoiding sin. What some people mean for evil, God means for your good (Genesis 50:20). What looks like a downside of ministry turns out to be a path to maturity, to formation. In practical terms, living your life in front of others pushes you to do what you already know you should do. And it often keeps you out of things you might slide into if nobody were watching. One important caveat: embracing accountability isn't the same as tolerating abuse. Healthy scrutiny sharpens you. A congregant who attacks your spouse or treats your kids like church property is a different problem, and it calls for boundaries, not gratitude. Let's be clear, though: the fishbowl isn't enough on its own. What we're really after is internal: character, a changed heart. But knowing we're living out loud in front of a watching church and a watching world gives us structure, and that structure can help us build the habits and rhythms of holiness we want. As we try to let the heart and character of Christ take deeper root in us, we have the advantage of lots of eyes around us "encouraging" us to stay on the straight and narrow. My sense is that people who embrace this find that, over time, what starts on the outside moves more and more to the inside. Slowly, the choices we make because others are watching become, through habit, real character. Because I know people are watching, I think twice about what I say in public, what I scroll past on my phone, and how I talk to my kids at church or out on the sidewalk in front of the neighbors. More and more, those choices, first made because of an audience, become part of who I am. That's especially true when I treat those moments as kairos [2] moments: times when God breaks in and uses my awareness of a watching world to show me the character He wants to form in me and the choices He'd like me to make. But what if we don't embrace it? What about those who get shipwrecked by moral failure, character flaws, and private sins gone public? People who resent the fishbowl of ministry and the Christian life often end up living one way in public and another in private. It's as if their anger at being scrutinized pushes them into a divided life: they'll play by the rules in public but insist on their own rules in private. Frustrated with the audience around them, so eager to find fault, they forget the true Audience they live before. And as we've all seen from too many spectacular crash-and-burns, the fallout is often devastating. Families, churches, and the reputation of the whole Church take serious damage. Pastors, recognize that your formation is happening, one way or another… and make peace with the fishbowl. It's going to be there whether you like it or not. If you embrace it, you may find it spurring you on toward love and good deeds (Hebrews 10:24) and keeping you clear of the sins that have taken down so many in ministry before you. “You should thankfully consider how great a mercy this is, that you have so many eyes to watch over you.” Let the Holy Spirit use your public life, and every eye watching it, to shape and form you. The fishbowl and the formation of a life in ministry are coming either way. Let them help answer the question: into what? To further explore your own formation through ministry, join us at the Multiply Summit with special guest Rich Villodas this coming February in the Washington, D.C. area! Adapted from Eldership and the Mission of God by Bob Hyatt and J.R. Briggs. [1] Richard Baxter, The Reformed Pastor, London, 1657, p. 21. [2] Kairos is one of the Greek words for time, but it's different from chronos. Chronos is linear, calendar time. Kairos refers to significant moments full of possibility. Here, it means those times when God steps into chronos.
By Bob Hyatt • April 13, 2026
Here's a message from Ecclesia Pastor Aaron Graham