The Hardest Point In Ministry

For followers of Jesus, what is the hardest point in ministry?  I'm speaking of any ministry, whether a full time vocation or volunteer service, the ministry of an ordained/licensed person or a layperson, ministry within the walls and structure of a church or ministry out in the mission field.  Some might say the hardest point is answering God's call in the first place.  Others could make a case for the starting point of any ministry being the most difficult spot.  Times of discouragement in ministry could provide the greatest hardship.  Maybe it's those occasions wherein we have to reinvent ourselves in order to adapt to a new setting in ministry or to changing circumstances in our present setting.

There's probably no right or wrong answer.  I just happen to be at a point in my life, ministry, and discipleship where I have discovered another answer, at least for me, for right now.  The hardest point in ministry is to realize that ministry has a season, and seasons come to an end.  The hardest point in a ministry is to know when you're being called to step away from it.   As far as I know, there's no set program or pattern for how this happens.  Some may experience it as an inner restlessness or uneasiness.  Some may notice a diminishing of effectiveness in themselves in some way, shape, or form.  Some may go through the pain of hearing the suggestions of it from those who love them.  Some may still be passionate about their ministry, but unable to overcome a core level of weariness in the doing of it.  I don't know.  For me, it came as I looked at the next great stage in ministry to which God is leading the awesome church I serve and realizing a deep soul fatigue within me.  Taking about a year to explore that soul fatigue, I came to understand that it was the voice of God telling me that my days as a lead pastor of a church were done - not just where I serve now, but for good.

It's been a great run; almost four decades.  However, the best race has a finish line.   So, like it or not, I'm learning some things about a ministry coming to an end.  I'm surely not suggesting that I'm navigating it the right way, nor that I'm doing it well at all.  Most of the time I feel as though I'm just stumbling through it.   One way or another, though, here are some things I'm learning:

• It's a grieving process.  Someone I know and care about is dying - Geoff the lead pastor, who preaches most every week, teaches, leads the church in outward focus, etc.  It's the only way I've known myself for most of my life.  I don't really know myself apart from it.  Grief is real and just has to be faced.  I'll get through it.
• My identity is not tied to being a lead pastor.  Before that and more than that I am a child of God, saved by the love of Jesus the Christ, equipped with the Holy Spirit.  That doesn't change.  Not that I'm putting myself ANYWHERE CLOSE to the league of these people, but Moses didn't get into the promised land, Elijah didn't get much past being pursued by Jezebel, and John the Baptist didn't get to see Jesus risen while walking this earth.  The end of their ministries did not mean the end of their identity in the eyes of God.
• I am loved by a God who makes all things new.  If I regard this transition as just an ending, that's my choice, not God's.
• Transitions out of ministries remind us of the one we must trust.  I knew that my lead pastor days where done months before I had the slightest clue what would come next.   When all we know is, "Not this, anymore," but we don't know what's next, all we have is faith.   We just have to lean into the future, understandably scared, but excited in a God for whom nothing is impossible.

I now know the next ministry to which I am called.   It's totally different than what I've been doing for 38 years.  That's daunting, to be sure.  Yet there's also a freshness about it.  I kind of feel like I did in 1978 when I first got out of seminary and was just getting started in all this.  Trust me, that's a nice feeling for this 62-year-old duffer!

It's messy and it's hard.  For any of you who are in ministry, I know it's the last thing you want to think about - knowing when to step away.  Don't be afraid.  Whenever it happens, you still belong to a God who continually makes all things new...all things...even you.

I'll see you around the next bend in the river.  Two more sermons before this float is over.

God Shows Up At Yardsales

Elaine (my wife) and I are in the midst of moving.  We have a contract on our house here and a contract on a house in the community where we will be living next.  We're downsizing, so we've been working on jettisoning much of our stuff.  So for the last two days we've had a yard sale.  I'd say I've been looking forward to it, but I'd be lying.  Dragging all the earmarked stuff out to our carport and driveway in the wee hours of the morning wasn't my idea of a fun-filled holiday weekend.  And this is not to mention the embarrassment we both had at the amount of stuff we'd accumulated in the last several decades.  (Typically over-indulged North Americans, but that's the subject for another post.)

Not being a veteran of many yardsales, I'd have to say that I enjoyed the whole experience much more than I thought I would.  Most all the folks who came by on Friday and today were friendly, gracious, and interesting.  Way beyond that, though, God showed up at our yardsale.  I can't say I anticipated that, though I don't know why I should be surprised by it.  Here's how God did it.

Yesterday a little girl came with her family; a child of maybe three or four.  She was mesmerized by three little decorative ceramic eggs.  A little shy and hesitant, she brought them over to me, saying, "I want these please," using only her bright but tentative eyes to speak.  Elaine had been in the house briefly during this time.  When Elaine came out, as I received payment from a parent or grandparent for the little eggs, the child went immediately over to Elaine and hugged her.  We have no idea why; the little girl didn't know Elaine and Elaine didn't know her.  Sometimes grace shows up as a complete surprise, from little sources.

One of my best friends came by on Friday as well.  He and I sat on a couch on our driveway, (still unsold, by the way!), and talked most of the morning away.  He is one of the many Christ-like companions I have in this area whom I will miss greatly.  Jesus reminds us, as recorded in the Gospel of John, that he calls us his friends.  I experience that through so many people who bless my life.

An older woman stopped by.  Her hands were gnarled and swollen with arthritis.  But she was the most amazing, positive lady.  A grandmother of 17 grandkids, she frequents yard sales to get little gifts for each of them.  We had a few semi-old-school tech items on the tables.  Rather than being intimidated by any of them she was fascinated by them, eagerly asking Elaine questions about them.  She even bought one of them; a hand held back-massage device.  She had never seen one.  Two things impacted me watching Elaine and this sweet lady talk.  Rather than being intimidated by rapid changes around her, this spunky octogenarian still chose to see life as an adventure.  She inspired me to choose to remain hopeful and eager about the future.  In addition, it's always an uncommon blessing to watch my wife interact with older adults.  While our culture tends to dismiss them as non-productive, Elaine consistently sees them as the children of God they are.  The older woman enjoyed talking to Elaine so much that she came back today!

An eighty-three year old man came by whose wife of over five decades died a month ago from complications after a stroke.  He didn't need to buy anything; he just needed to talk to someone.  So we listened for the better part of an hour.  We were ready for however much he needed; lonely is everything it's cracked up to be.  I returned from an errand midday to find a young man talking with Elaine.  He had asked her about the tremor in her voice.  (Elaine has what's called "essential tremor."  It runs in her family.)   He asked how she coped with it, then shared his own burdens.  He had a debilitating accident several years ago.   He's been through a heart-breaking divorce, and he just recently lost his job.  He's a person of faith, but he's struggling to stay hopeful.  Again, we tried to listen and encourage.  I gave him my most recent copy of a daily devotional designed for persons walking in dark valleys - STREAMS IN THE DESERT.  (I highly recommend it!)  We joined hands with him and prayed for him.

So the yard sale really wasn't about downsizing and getting rid of extra stuff.   It was about being humbled by these opportunity to see the real presence of Jesus in others.  I repent of any selfish resistance to doing the sale.  I would have missed The Lord showing up in a timid but loving little girl, in a good friend in Christ, in an older lady whose hands were crippled but whose soul was not, in a man who just misses the love of his life, and in a guy struggling to keep his head above water and to keep his faith intact.

We serve a God who shows up.  I'll see you around the next bend in the river.