If you’ve lived in Sumner County long, you know it’s growing—fast. New families, new faces, new rhythms. And somewhere in the swirl of all that movement, we’re all still looking for something steady. Something that feels like home.
This week on A Good Pour, I sat down with Jacob Bell, Executive Pastor at CIL Church in Hendersonville, to talk about that search—what home really means, what young professionals are hungry for, and how churches like his are doing the quiet, steady work of showing up.
Leading As You Go
Jacob calls his style of leadership “leading as I go”—a rhythm of intentional check-ins, encouraging conversations, and cups of coffee (with a lot of creamer, he admits). As executive pastor, he helps turn vision into action, not just by managing tasks, but by building trust.
He meets with staff. He meets with community leaders. And more than anything, he pays attention—to what’s happening, what’s working, and where he can come alongside the good work already in motion.
“We don’t have to reinvent the wheel,” he said. “There’s already so much good work happening. Our job is to align with it.”
Meeting People Where They Are
Sumner County is a beautiful mix of people—lifelong locals, new arrivals, families planting roots. But with growth comes complexity. Not everyone walks into a church with ease. Some carry church hurt. Some are just plain busy. (A reality that Jacob doesn’t shy away from.)
Instead of pushing more programs, CIL is making space. Space for real stories. For slowing down. For a community that feels more like a table than a task list.
“People don’t want to rush. They want to be seen. They want to be loved. They want a home away from home.”
And he’s right. Especially in a culture that’s connected digitally but often lonely relationally, spaces of belonging matter more than ever.
Good Work Starts with Being Present
We talked a lot about “good work” on this episode, and Jacob said something that stopped me in my tracks. He shared a story about walking around the Gallatin Square with his two-year-old son during Black History Month, reading the names and legacies of local leaders. After each one, his son simply said, “Thank you.”
It reminded him—and me—that good work isn’t always flashy. Sometimes it’s a moment of gratitude. A walk in the square. A friend who listens. A mentor who believes in you before you believe in yourself.
“Good work flows from the good life,” Jacob said. “And the good life is about living with purpose, with peace—not with anxious productivity.”
Pastors Are People Too
Jacob also got real about something we don’t talk about enough—how hard it can be for pastors to care for themselves. Behind the Sunday sermons and community leadership, they’re still human. Still tired. Still in need of connection.
For Jacob, taking care of himself means having real friends, laughing often, and staying rooted in rhythms that don’t feel performative. It also means being honest about his limits—and letting Jesus be the Savior, not trying to be one himself.
Doing Good Work, Together
One of my favorite things about this conversation? Jacob’s heart for collaboration. Whether he’s working with the G.O.N.E. Shalom Zone, supporting young professionals, or just grabbing lunch with another local pastor, he’s reminding all of us: we’re better when we cheer each other on.
His reminder is one I want to carry forward:
“Your wins are my wins. Let’s build something lasting—together.”
Thanks for being here, Jacob. And thanks for the reminder that even in a busy world, home is still possible. We just have to slow down enough to build it.
Let’s keep doing good work, friends. Let’s keep building homes that make room for others.