Andrew Stewart-Darling: ‘Cut yourself some slack, be kind to yourself, and be at peace with imperfection’

Andrew, tell us a little bit about yourself

I was born in Hampton Court with much of my early life lived by the River Thames – school, college and work all happened along this rich vein of water. It has come to symbolise the ebb and flow of my life and been my constant reminder of God’s continual presence.

Before becoming a church planter, I worked in advertising, moving from copywriter to creative director, strategy director to consultant. Alongside that career, I felt God’s call to ministry, trained for three years at theological college, joining Riverside Vineyard Church and later helping to reestablish an Anglican church in West London before planting a Vineyard church in south Suffolk. I’ve been in ministry about 28 years. Last year I published my first book, Life Interrupted: God’s Invitations to Change. I run a mentorship programme for young leaders and consult Open Doors in the UK and around the world.

I’m privileged to have had parents who stayed together for nearly 60 years. I’ve been married to Emma for 31 years, and we have three daughters, my youngest just starting university this Autumn.

Tell us about your experience of faith as a child

We went to a local Anglican parish church, conservative evangelical in style, though my parents had come from a high church background. The church was known then as a “temperance” church – so, that meant no alcohol, Sunday newspapers, TV, washing clothes or buying anything on the Sabbath – but my parents were more relaxed. Sport was a big weekend activity, and I often played rugby on Sunday mornings. Because of that, we went to Evensong, which had the 1662 Book of Common Prayer. I didn’t realise until years later how much Scripture was embedded in those words – it planted God’s word deep inside me and later gave me a language for prayer.

My father loved to question and explore ideas – sometimes infuriatingly – but it taught me to think deeply, argue reasonably, and stay curious

I have one sister, six years older, who became a scientist, then an Anglican priest. Home was Christian and came with a strong moral code. Sunday lunch often led to lively conversations about faith, social action or politics. My father loved to question and explore ideas – sometimes infuriatingly – but it taught me to think deeply, argue reasonably, and stay curious.

You could say we were a classic church-going family, though I loved the church youth group, but I think it is fair to say my parents saw the church first as their local parish church before their preferred style of worship.

How did your faith develop as you grew older?

Like many, I questioned everything in my late teens. I never doubted God’s existence, but for a time I lost faith in the church. It felt quite restrictive, so music offered ‘freedom’ – at 17, I joined a band, went to gigs, experimented with things, and stepped away from church. My belief in God remained, though not sure if some of that was guilt, but I knew I hadn’t yet found a personal relationship with Jesus.

Parenting is hard work, of course, but gratitude remains the dominant feeling. Even when they annoy the heck out of me, I can’t quite believe I’ve been trusted with this role

In my early 20s, I encountered Jesus at a Baptist church in South London. That ‘lightbulb moment’ changed everything and helped me rebuild my relationship with God and his church. It also reshaped my understanding of grace. It was a revelation that Jesus wanted a relationship with me and the cross was big enough for all my mess.

If you could thank your parents for one thing about your faith or life, what would it be?

Could I have two things? Their commitment to each other, which has profoundly shaped my own marriage, and their questioning approach to faith and truth. Their curiosity wasn’t about picking holes and doubting but about unlocking truth and deepening faith. From them, I have also come to treasure the contemplative aspect of faith, which sits comfortably alongside my noisy charismatic side. That mix has helped me value the silence of prayer as much as all my psalmic shouting to God.

Moving to your own parenting – what stands out about being a father?

Overwhelming gratitude. From the moment our first daughter was born, I was broken, I felt humbled that God entrusted me to raise children. That sense hasn’t faded. Parenting is hard work, of course, but gratitude remains the dominant feeling. Even when they annoy the heck out of me, I can’t quite believe I’ve been trusted with this role.

When our eldest arrived, I was employed as an assistant pastor. We were living in Hounslow on a modest salary, trying to get by on very little. I remember someone in our home group saying, “Amazing that God has called you to live in dirty, run-down Hounslow,” and we’d just smile, knowing it was all we could afford! Those early years were demanding – balancing ministry, sleepless nights and a new marriage rhythm – but they were full of joy and discovery.

What particular challenges did you face as a Christian father?

Being both a dad and a pastor is tricky. There’s always a temptation to compare your children with others – or to display them as ‘trophy kids’. I like Arthur C. Brooks definition of success and failure: having what others don’t have and not having what they have. Recognising that human truth has helped me parent better for sure.

Another challenge was managing expectations – my own and other people’s. Sometimes there is an assumption a pastor’s family will be a natural model for others. That pressure can be stifling, so I would remind myself my girls were first and foremost God’s children, not extensions of ministry.

We used a resource called Table Talk for Bible conversations after meals. It gave us a rhythm to pray and read together without feeling forced

I learned to see each daughter as unique, made in God’s image. My job was to guide them, fusing love with wise boundaries, and entrusting them to God’s capable hands. Sometimes that meant stepping back when I wanted to jump in, letting them find their own way with God. That can be incredibly painful at times.

What helped you nurture faith in your children?

I wanted them to see that knowing Jesus is a relationship, and church is not a ‘people business’. I worked hard to make sure they got “Dad” at home, not the senior pastor. Emma and I set boundaries: no church talk at the dinner table, always ask about their day first, and be present in mind.

Table time mattered. We used a resource called Table Talk for Bible conversations after meals. It gave us a rhythm to pray and read together without feeling forced. We also banned phones at the table, including mine, creating space for listening and valuing each other. That simple habit fostered respect and curiosity – and it is still a rule today!

I also learned that apologising matters hugely

I tried not to use our girls as sermon illustrations or mentioning them by name in social media without asking permission – I didn’t want them being embarrassed or ribbed at school. Respecting who they are in their own right built trust and reminded me they had their own stories to tell.

Were there things that didn’t work so well?

Yes. Like many parents, I sometimes felt I had to always be right or have the last word. That shut conversations down and modelled a lack of humility on my part. Admitting I didn’t always know best would have served them better.

I also learned that apologising matters hugely. Early on I sometimes brushed over mistakes or tried to justify them. Later I realised that a sincere “sorry” can build a closer connectedness and even take your relationship to the next level.

Read more:

Tim Morfin OBE: “Parenting was overwhelming and beautiful all at the same time”

Chris and Jenny Lee: “We’re committed to an open, conversational approach to family life and one which affirms that our children are loved by God”

Rachel Jordan-Wolf: ‘we need to help parents smash the idol of individualism’

If you could give yourself advice before becoming a dad, what would you say?

Mimic Jesus: keep saying you love your children and you’re proud of them just as they are. They will exasperate you, as you will exasperate them, but encouragement will always change a child’s perspective. And don’t preface praise with “I just want to encourage you…” – that’s religious. Be the parent, not the pastor.

Dads aren’t perfect, we know that, but we always try to do our best and often in difficult circumstances, so I would say, “Cut yourself some slack, be kind to yourself, and be at peace with imperfection.”

Above all, enjoy each day as a gift. Laugh together, eat together, pray together, let your children see your faith in everyday moments, not just on Sundays. That’s where children most often glimpse what God is like.

Andrew Stewart-Darling is a former senior pastor, consultant, mentor and author of Life, Interrupted: Embracing God’s invitations to change. He has spent over 28 years in pastoral ministry, helping plant two churches (CofE and Vineyard). He has also been an advertising copywriter, creative director and strategy director for British and American companies. He has won several industry awards but says they are nothing compared to serving the local church and their communities.