It's Always Something

My transition from pastor to teacher of missionaries hasn’t been the easiest and it’s taken some time for me to get my mind around why exactly I’ve found it so disquieting. I honestly don’t know what I expected but I genuinely believe I never expected to still be feeling things more than six months into the change.

Part of it stems from the nature of ministry itself. It’s a relational job and there’s no real line between when you’re working and when you’re not. Home + by yourself/with only family = for sure not working. Just about any other situation = at work. Some might argue there’s no way it’s ALWAYS work but if you can do or say something that adds or takes away from your church, it’s work. You aren’t, “off.”

What are the consequences? The word, “friend,” becomes difficult to define. This may all sound crazy but I’m telling you, talk to any pastor. They’ll confirm it. In high school, college, you had a group of friends. There were people you’d call on a Friday or Saturday night or maybe they’d call you and you’d go and do something. Laughs were had. Memories were made.

Pastors do the same thing but it almost can never be divorced from work. Why am I here? Why did I leave my house? Is it to have fun? Is it to enjoy the company of others? Or is it because I’m the pastor and I’m supposed to be here? People expect me to be here. People would think something if I wasn’t here or worse, the ever insidious feeling of having only been invited because I’m the pastor. If this smells like an identity crisis, your nose is in the right place. Ministry is a breeding ground for these kinds of issues.

Please don’t think I’m suggesting this is what was ever actually happening. Pastors have real friends. I’m just saying these are the thoughts that go through a pastor’s mind and it’s a HUGE reason the pastorate is a lonely place.

But I’m not there anymore. My life is different. There’s more of a 9 to 5 vibe now. If you’re in it long enough though (14 years for example), there’s a sort of PTSD when you step out. You realize that you’ve forgotten how to simply relate to people. You forget that one can enter into a conversation without feeling like you’re working.

Here’s the thing, however. Maybe none of this matters.

Several weeks ago, my wife and I were invited to be a part of a Seminary Wives in Ministry (SWIM) panel at Dallas Seminary. We were one of four (older) couples who were there to share our experiences re: the peaks & valleys of ministry. It was great. I’m thrilled we were asked and I couldn’t be happier that we did it.

Before it all started, the two of us sat down at an empty table. It was towards the front and it felt appropriate. We’d be able to get to the stage without having to weave our way between chairs but time went by and no one was sitting with us and so the indecision began. Should we wait? Should we move? If we move, to which table should we move? Since these were terribly important questions, my wife asked the moderator for advice and she said, stay put. We’re both rule followers so good. Now we have an answer. We aren’t moving.

Not long after, two elderly women came and sat down. I looked at their name tags and they were (and still are) two widows of Dallas Seminary professors: Jeanne (Howard) Hendricks and Maxine (Stanley) Toussaint.

This was a big deal. Their husbands had been professors of mine. I was trained by them. I was shaped by them but more importantly, these women literally represented SEVEN decades of ministry each and not as an appendage. They had their own ministries and because we hadn’t changed tables, we were able to sit on the receiving end of stories that I know barely shaved off the top of the iceberg.

These women had reached their 90s (and Jeanne Hendricks is still driving!) and were STILL pouring into the lives of others. Someone approached Jeanne and asked if she would take a quick picture with the young women who were part of her Bible study group. Not some group that had met years ago. They’d been meeting for the past few months.

One of the verses that motivates my life is 2 Timothy 2:2, “The things which you have heard from me in the presence of many witnesses, entrust these to faithful men who will be able to teach others also.” Paul references four generations: Paul to Timothy to faithful men to those they eventually teach. The women sitting across from my wife and I are the living embodiment of this chain of ministry, a legacy that can’t be quantified this side of eternity.

Whether or not this life lives up to my or whoever else’s expectations couldn’t be less important. The number of acquaintances we have vs deep friends is certainly helpful but that’s not what necessarily lasts beyond the grave. It’s what’s done for Jesus Christ. That’s what survives the fire of 1 Corinthians 3:15. It’s the by God’s grace difference we make for the Kingdom.

I don’t know what you’re struggling with. My experience is it’s always something. My encouragement is to focus on that which is eternal. Move THAT needle. Let the Lord’s grace be sufficient for where this life has left you wanting and if you need a little inspiration, think of these women (my wife included).

From Left to Right: Jeanne Hendricks, Maxine Toussaint, Bree Banks