Happy Monday, and welcome back. Well, Mondays are notoriously difficult for pastors. The Monday Blues, as they’re called, can set in after giving one’s life and soul on Sunday. If you’re not a pastor, pray for your pastor today as you listen.
And all of this is compounded for pastors who struggle with tension inside their church’s leadership, which then breeds tension in marriages and families. All of this leads to a question from an anonymous wife of a discouraged pastor.
“Pastor John, I really appreciate your Ask Pastor John podcast. It is one of my favorite things to listen to when I am walking or doing the dishes or folding laundry. Thank you. I write you as a discouraged pastor’s wife. My husband and I have been in full-time youth ministry for four years now, and it breaks my heart to say it, but I feel almost fed up with ministry. My husband gets very frustrated and discouraged at times. I submit to his leading in our family and his call to ministry. But I am so discouraged. The last year has been really difficult for us, my husband, our marriage and our family. My husband looks so defeated some days. It breaks my heart. We have received difficult criticism from church members. I have a hard time not taking the criticism personally. Some of these people are our dear friends, and it’s hard not to feel betrayed. Our church leadership remains fairly silent regarding the criticism and neither offers support nor guidance in how my husband can improve. I know we are not perfect by any means, but without guidance we don’t know what the church wants from us. We feel alone. Can you offer any encouragement to us?”
My heart really goes out to the situation of this young couple—to pastors, especially younger pastors, who are not in the lead pastor position, but serve in supportive roles like youth pastor. Their fruitfulness and their joy are often dependent on patterns of leadership set by those who oversee them, and so they’re more vulnerable than others are. I have a special tender spot of concern that they have good leadership, not leaders who just ignore issues.
What might be helpful is three things. One is a testimony. Let me give a little testimony of my own discouragement six years into the ministry. Another is a series of diagnostic questions that might provide a way of reflecting on their situation. And finally, some encouragement from the word.
How I Almost Quit
Here’s the testimony. I had been at Bethlehem as the senior pastor for six years. I was now 40 years old at this point, which I do believe is an emotionally vulnerable place for a man to be.
There are real midlife issues, I think, and I wrote in my journal November 6, 1986, these words. (In fact, you can read the whole thing by going to desiringGod.org and just searching for the article called “How I Almost Quit.”)
Here’s part of what I said:
The church is looking for a vision for the future, and I do not have it. Does this mean that my time at Bethlehem is over? Does it mean that there is a radical alternative unforeseen by me? Does it mean that I am simply in the pits today and unable to feel the beauty and power and joy and fruitfulness of an expanded facility and ministry?
Oh, Lord, have mercy on me. I am so discouraged. I am so blank. I feel like there are opponents on every hand, even when I know that most of my people are for me. I am so blind to the future of the church.
Oh, Father, am I blind because it is not my future? Perhaps I shall not even live out the year, and you are sparing the church the added burden of a future I had made and couldn’t complete. I do not doubt for a moment your goodness or power or omnipotence in my life or in the life of the church.
I confess that the problem is mine, the weakness is mine, the blindness is in my eyes. The sin (oh, reveal to me my hidden faults) is mine and mine the blame. Have mercy, Father. Have mercy on me. I must preach on Sunday, and I can scarcely lift my head.
Now, as a matter of fact, I remained in that role for another 27 years, which is a warning against precipitous resignations when God may have something wonderful in store by persevering through seasons of blankness. He certainly did for me, and I’m so thankful he didn’t let me go, in both senses. He didn’t let me leave the church, and he didn’t let go of me.