When you’re stuck in a rut, thinking about leaving

I've been thinking about leaving the ministry . . . I feel like a phony doing the work of a pastor . . . I'm tired of so often finding myself stuck in a rut.

A Pastor Writes:

Dear Zack,

I’m writing because I have been thinking about leaving the ministry.  I don’t think I will at this time because it’s an awful time to be changing careers but the struggle I have in this regard weighs on me often.  I struggle because I find it so difficult to have a relationship with the Lord.  My prayer life and devotional life are so weak.  I find myself quite apathetic to those to whom I am called to minister.  I don’t feel capable of helping these people I serve in any real sense. I don’t have any real words of wisdom for them - just bromides.  My prayers for them just seem to bounce off the ceiling.  I feel like a phony doing the work of a pastor.  I can’t believe I’m called to minister to people’s souls - I just don’t feel I should be doing something so serious when I’m such a mess, so out of touch with myself, God, and others.  Many days I wish I was a barber like Jayber Crow in Wendell Berry’s novel.  I wish I had a simple, steady, uncomplicated calling.

I’m thinking of seeing a counselor.  I think I may need someone objective to help me talk these things through.  It seems I go round and round with these kinds of feelings and struggles.  I am just tired of it.  I’m tired of so often finding myself stuck in a rut. 

Well, I know this email is a real downer.  It seems when I write or talk to you that is the theme.  I wish it were otherwise.

I guess I’m hoping by writing you this email that you will at least have encountered other pastors similarly discouraged - men who are thinking of leaving the ministry, for example.  I wonder how they have turned out.  I wonder what you have said to them. 

Thanks for the patience and kindness you’ve always shown me. Whenever you have time send a reply.

 


My Reply:

Dear pastor, 

What you are describing is honest. It is not a downer to me. Actually, I would thank you for putting into words what we pastors feel so often. Your words are like a mirror to me. Better, a friend or poet who gives language for what I feel.

This is my first thought. You are not alone. You are describing what the lonely, humdrum, wears-you-out, what-am-I-doing-here moments of pastoral ministry often feel like. We are farmers shoveling the same morning dung, walking the same old pastures, mending the same damn fence, tending the same old sheep, birthing and burying, feeding and defending, and all the while hoping for a free moment sometimes just to get to town and walk around for a while.  

The second thing I want you to know is something I'd invite you to ask those who know you best. Over the years, I've come to notice that you write to me at or near the beginning of each Fall with these kinds of dark-day feelings and thoughts. As a general rule, (unless there is an emergency of course), I'd guess that for you, it is best to decide on your calling to the ministry in the Spring or Summer, but not the Fall. Check with those who know you best on that. I could be mistaken, so I'd hate to ask you to wait till Spring when they and you know better. 

The third thing is that for folks like you and me who have to deal with anxiety and depression, a job that allows you to do good work routinely without having the burden of a congregation of souls as your primary care, can make a heap of sense. I've thought about this, many times myself. You can certainly use your pastoral gifts without the title and burden of being the pastor. 

But you could also approach being a pastor in light of what you know about yourself. You could map out the year with those who know you--taking into account that the Fall seems harder on you and planning vacations, study leaves, fellowship, accordingly. 

Either way, I'd like to say that you'd make a great barber! ha! Or doing some such work. You have a good way with people, a genuine presence, an earnest interest, and good humor. You'd not let God down one bit if you chose a different vocation. You've been faithful for many years. You've worked hard and steady in a place and among a people that aren't on any one's map but are dear to the heart of God. You'd need to feel no shame but only gratitude that God sustained you for a job well done.  

I'm thankful for who you are.

Grace and grit,
Zack

Zack Eswine

Zack is co-founder of Sage Christianity with his wife Jessica. A writer and pastor, Zack’s books include Recovering Eden: The Gospel According to Ecclesiastes, Spurgeon’s Sorrows: Realistic Hope for those who Suffer from Depression, Preaching to a Post-Everything World, and The Imperfect Pastor

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