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Kirk Romberg

What happens when the ministry path you’ve followed for decades starts leading in a new direction?

And how do you discern what’s next when the clarity you expected… never quite arrives?

In this episode of The In-Between, I sit down with Kirk Romberg, former pastor, certified coach, and co-founder of Bridge and Rhino, where he helps leaders embrace a healthier, values-based model of leadership.

Kirk shares what it looked like to step away from full-time pastoral work, move across states to be near his adult children, start a house painting business (yes, really), and listen—slowly, carefully—for what God might be unfolding next.

This is a conversation for anyone navigating a calling that’s shifting, a role that no longer fits, or a season where discernment feels more like waiting than receiving. It’s also an honest look at how deep transition can invite us to recover identity, redefine purpose, and realign our lives around the values that matter most.

In this episode, we talk about:

👉 Why some transitions begin with a gut nudge—and why that doesn’t mean it’s time to act
👉 The grace of “right thing, wrong time” and how God often whispers, not yet
👉 How house painting opened unexpected doors for healing, presence, and provision
👉 The power of clarity committees—and how trusted voices can help us name what we already know
👉 Why over-identifying with roles can make transition harder—and what to anchor in instead
👉 The difference between reacting to discomfort and responding to peace
👉 How ministry gets redefined when calling outlives the container
👉 Why Kirk believes values should lead, and vision should follow
👉 The sacred gift of good neighbors, grandkids, and letting productivity take a back seat

Years before Kirk Romberg became a coach, someone saw the gift in him.
“You’d be good at this,” they told him. And he believed them.

But he also knew it wasn’t time.

“There was a rightness about what he said,” Kirk told me. “It landed on my heart. But I could sense—it was the right thing… in the wrong season. So I put it on the shelf.”

That phrase—“right thing, wrong season”—feels like a thread worth pulling. Because for many of us, especially those who have served in ministry, led teams, or held space for others in transition, we know the ache of waiting. Of sensing something true but not yet timely. Of asking God, “What are you doing with this gift—this desire, this potential—when I’ve got nothing to do with it right now?”

In Kirk’s case, that gift came off the shelf after a surprising move across states, a resignation from a church staff role, and a season of painting houses—not pastoring them.

🎨 From Pastor to Painter

For over 30 years, Kirk served as a pastor—most of that time in Washington State. But when their adult children began planting roots in Colorado, he and his wife started sensing a shift. Not just a geographic one—but a vocational one.

“We always had a personal vision of living close to our kids once they started having families,” he said. “That value—to be present, to be available—that was pulling us more than any job opportunity was.”

They didn’t have a position waiting in Colorado. What they had was a desire to be near family. And after a long, discerning process—inviting church leadership into the conversation, walking slowly and honestly—they made the move.

But there was no job on the other side.

In a moment of prayer, Kirk asked, “God, what do you want me to do?”

The response?
“You know what Paul did.”

Kirk replied, “I don’t make tents.”
And in a flash of conviction, he heard: No—but you paint them.

That’s how his painting and contracting business began. What was intended as a short-term bridge became a surprising, sustainable source of income and stability. But perhaps more than that, it created a necessary openness—a clearing—for something else to take root.

🌱 A Calling Returns

During that same period, Kirk found himself informally coaching a former staff member. At the end of their sessions, she said, “You should be doing this.”

It echoed the affirmation he’d heard years before. And this time, he was ready.

It wasn’t just the right idea. It was the right time,” Kirk shared. “The shelf came down. The whisper of calling returned. And I had the space—and the openness—to receive it.

There’s something sacred about that. The way callings return. Not through striving. But through openness.

🧭 The Clarity Committee and the Consolation of the Spirit

When I asked Kirk how he discerned such a big life transition—especially one that defied the typical metrics of strategy—he offered a helpful framework:

  • Context: They no longer felt long-term alignment with their environment.

  • Personal Vision: Their dream of being close to family pulled stronger than any job offer.

  • Mismatched Values: The church they were pastoring, while good, turned out to be a mismatch beneath the surface.

  • External Discernment: They involved trusted leaders in the process.

We recalled this is a “clarity committee,” a phrase borrowed from Parker Palmer. It reflects Kirk’s posture of humility and faithfulness. He wasn’t rushing to escape something. He was willing to discern what God might be doing through people, place, and even unease.

And through that process, he learned to embrace a slower pace—what Ignatian spirituality calls consolation—the peace that confirms God’s nearness even when the path ahead remains foggy.

🔍 When Values and Vision Misalign

One of the most poignant parts of our conversation came when Kirk talked about leading in church environments where the stated values and the real values didn’t align.

If those gaps go unaddressed,” he said, “people get hurt.

It’s not a new insight—but it’s one that still costs something to say out loud, especially for leaders who’ve been part of the system.

Kirk now coaches leaders—many of them in faith-based settings—to prioritize values alignment over outcome obsession. “Vision is important,” he shared, “but values have to lead. Otherwise, you might hit your goals and lose yourself in the process.”

That line is worth sitting with.

🌊 What Flourishing Looks Like Now

We ended our conversation by talking about flourishing. Not as a buzzword—but as a way of living that feels faithful, grounded, and honest.

For Kirk, flourishing today doesn’t look like platform or performance.

It looks like:

  • Having fun with his wife

  • Watching baseball with a neighbor

  • Digging up strawberries with a grandkid

  • Doing meaningful work—but not needing that work to define him

“God isn’t I was or I will be,” he said. “He is I AM. That means the invitation to flourish starts now—not when everything is clear.”

💭 Questions to Consider

If you’re in a similar space of transition, here are a few reflection prompts drawn from Kirk’s journey:

  • What gifts have been named in you that you’ve put on the shelf?

  • Are there areas of misalignment between your values and the context you’re in?

  • What if the season you’re in now is less about productivity and more about presence?

  • What might it mean to receive transition as a grace, not a problem to solve?

  • Is there something—like a painting business, or a porch conversation—that might be preparing the soil for what’s next?

📍You’re Not Alone

If you’re navigating a season of in-between—where your role has changed, but your sense of calling lingers—let Kirk’s story remind you:
You don’t have to force the next thing.
You can trust the whisper.
And sometimes, flourishing begins when you stop needing clarity to validate your worth.

Everything just changed, now what?

In a season of transition, it’s hard knowing what to do next. Finding Your Way to Flourishing is your free guide to crafting your Next Step Statement so you can move forward with clarity and confidence.