Hanging out with some of my student ministry team at the YSPalooza in Chicago, and I started thinking about the oddity of going to a conference.
You see all kinds of folks at conferences, so I thought I would ask you guys how you conference?
Notebook or laptop?
Bag or nothing?
There to network or there to recharge?
I’ll go first.
Very excited to have Skye Jethani sharing on Rookie Pastor today. After several conversations on issues of calling and vocation he agreed to put some of these thoughts in print.
As I have written before Skye brings a very fresh voice for those in ministry that those who are just starting out need to hear. Also if you are interested in what Rob Bell is up to lately you should sign up for his newsletter.
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How we’ve allowed a one-dimensional theology of mission to negate a robust theology of vocation.
When I entered seminary 14 years ago, I was humbled by many of my classmates. While we all suffered through “suicide Greek” (an intense six-week summer course that only a gifted linguist with a penchant for self-flagellation would enjoy), I learned that some students sacrificed far more than others to follow God’s call into pastoral ministry.
Scott left his position as a Navy pilot, with a stable salary and excellent benefits. David left his management job with a Big Three automaker and relocated his family. He attended classes all day and studied while working as a night security guard. I have no idea when he slept.
Gregory, an engineer from China, brought his wife and two young girls from Hong Kong to Chicago—he’d never seen snow before, let alone 12 inches of it covering his car. In six months Gregory taught himself enough English to successfully translate the New Testament from Greek into English, and then into Cantonese for his congregation in Chinatown.
These pastors represent the power of godly ambition. God’s call upon their lives, and their desire to serve his people, was the engine that drove them to make enormous changes and sacrifices.
But seminary revealed the dark side of ambition as well. On the first day in a small class, when asked to introduce ourselves and say why we had entered seminary, the first student said, “I’m here because I’m going to be the next Bill Hybels.” Really, I thought. Hope that works out for you.
The next said, “My grandfather was a pastor, my father was a pastor, and I’m supposed to be a pastor too.” Daddy issues? The third student revealed his three-year plan to become senior pastor and then transform his congregation into a megachurch. “My denomination wants me to have an M.Div. degree,” he said, “but once I’ve proven I can grow a big church, I don’t think they’ll make me finish the degree.” Good grief, I thought.
Then the scary realization: What if my motivations for being here are just as questionable? That introduced me to the dangerous side of pastoral ambition. It can drive us to make great sacrifices in service to God and others, but it can also be a veneer that hides far less noble motivations. The problem is that few take the time or effort to delve deeply into the motivations of would-be pastors to help them discover the existence of a shadow-motivation in their ministry–a motivation that may ultimately inflict harm on a church, community, or the pastor’s own family.
This may come across as cheesy motivational speaker talk, but I am learning the importance of being who you are when it comes to ministry.
The great thing about the internet is that you can know what is going on everywhere else.
The horrific thing about the internet is that you can know what is going on everywhere else.
We know that we don’t have that person’s communication ability. Or their charisma. Nor can we lead like so and so. Our youth ministry/small group ministry/church isn’t as big as their’s.
Look the bottom line is that you were gifted in certain ways for a reason and if you are called to do something the details will be worked out. You have a responsibility to work hard, be prepared, and to hone your craft but it is not your responsibility to start preaching/singing/leading like someone else just because they appear to be effective.
And yes, I am talking primarily to myself.
I couldn’t get out of bed.
I broke out into hives.
I thought I was having a heart attack.
I struggle with anxiety and I don’t think I am the only one.
A week ago I had the opportunity to share with a group of student leaders at my alma mater. My anxiety first happened when I was sitting in the same seat as a student leader. I couldn’t get out of bed, was missing class and in general felt trapped. When you are a leader you let the activity and responsibility tell you that who you are is determined by what you do.
In my anxiety I tried to combat things by working harder, and for a while I made it work.
Making it work meant that for stretches things were pretty good and for other stretches I hated my job/ministry, gave into cynicism, and in general I was low-grade miserable. This continued for little over 5 years. I thought it was normal.
Buying a house, not taking care of myself, the future not turning out like I had planned, and realizing that I wasn’t as awesome as I had thought made the anxiety boil over.
An anxiety attack is no joke, but I’m thankful that it happened.
Those minutes that felt like hours when I couldn’t breathe pushed me into counseling and a further examination of my own spiritual health as it related to my role as a pastor and leader.
I’m thankful but I wouldn’t recommend it.
You aren’t what you do.
You could benefit from counseling.
Go read I Peter 5:7.
Stop and realize that you aren’t as awesome as you thought.
A lot of Rookie Pastors are Youth Pastors and Youth Pastors take overnight trips with students. When they come back some are expected to go right back to work.
I’ve heard the logic that volunteer leaders who go away with you on a weekend retreat have to jump right back into things come Monday morning, so you should as well.
I’ve also heard of churches giving pastors “comp days” that they can use after a trip. For every 2 24-hour periods you work you get a day off.
My guess and my experience has led me to believe reality lies somewhere between the two.
Last week I led a group of adults on a trip to Haiti and it was an incredible experience, but exhausting. We flew in late Tuesday night and I was at work the next morning. Not because I wanted to or because I was expected to, but because I had to.
Kicking off a small groups launch, teaching on High School on Wednesday night, a speaking gig Saturday, baptisms on Sunday morning with a Middle School event in the afternoon. 15 straight days that were filled of ministry activity, I don’t tell you this to gain sympathy because if you are reading this you know there are stretches like this.
Thankfully I was given Monday off, and I took it. My computer was open less than 30 minutes for the entire day and I didn’t respond to a single email. In fact I borrowed my brother’s xBox and played Skyrim part of the day and read the rest of it.
It was awesome.
So here is my question for you: The day after a big ministry trip or retreat how do you rest and recover?
This is a tricky post to write.
Apparently I have been saying tricky a lot lately. It is such an appropriate word that works in several different contexts (and a catchy Run DMC song that just happens to be on my workout playlist).
It’s a tricky post to write because relationships as a RPW can be tricky.
As I covered in my first post, there are expectations on what this role looks like, who you’re supposed to be, and even what your kids should be like (although currently there aren’t a ton of ridiculous expectations about our yet-to-be-born child. It’s the size of a lemon.).
Your husband is in the spotlight. Whether you like it or not, that spotlight can shine on you sometimes. Maybe you’re cool with this–maybe you even love it and are filled up by this. And if that’s your story–embrace it! But my hunch is that not all of us feel this way and struggle to build real, authentic, relationships.
Why is this?
I think sometimes we choose to be guarded. It’s difficult when it feels like everyone has an opinion about your husband. Or when you feel in the middle between a perception and a partner.
And sometimes it’s easier to live life at a distance. To refuse to get close to other people, especially other women, because deep down we’re afraid of what they’ll think of us. Of what they think about the love of your life.
But who wants to live like this?
I know sometimes I let my own junk get the best of me. “He complained to me about my husband”. “Why does she have such an opinion on why we waited so long to have kids”. “She would think I am a horrible person if she knew that I struggled with all of these things”!
Relationships are risky. I have to check myself when I am getting too guarded or hesitant to share my life with others. Or when I catch the introverted side of me taking over and only going through the Sunday morning motions of putting on the RPW face instead of just going for it. The risk is worth it.
I forget that the Church is made up of imperfect people–and my imperfections and shortcomings are no different than anyone else’s. In relationships in the Church, I need to put down my fists, love bigger, and remember that this life, and everything that comes with it, is exactly where the Lord wants me to be.
I officially became a RPW on February 25, 2006. We definitely learned a lot in our first year in terms of time management and setting boundaries–mostly from the things we did wrong.
Honestly, I think it came from a place of excitement and energy. “We want to get to know the youth! We want to have students over! Our college students are missing out! We should join a small group!” None of those things is inherently negative. But ultimately, while our hearts were in the right place, we were overcommitted right from the beginning.
Our first fall in ministry, we ended up being involved in church programs four nights out of the week–Sunday and Wednesday night Youth Programs, Open House for Students on Tuesdays, and a New College Ministry on Thursdays. And we loved each of the programs and genuinely enjoyed leading them.
Insert life lesson from a youth ministry pro: we attended the National Youth Workers Convention our first year in ministry and attended a Q & A with Doug Fields and his wife. The Field’s have been in ministry for almost 30 years and have an incredible amount of wisdom for pastors and families in ministry. Doug specifically shared about the busy seasons in ministry where he was committed to a big project like a building or a book–but only for a season. These seasons were anywhere from 3 to 18 months. And their family committed to the season together.
The thing about seasons is that they have an end date.
We’ve all had busy seasons. Holidays. Grad school. Thesis writing. RA training. Summer youth trips with less than a week in between. Or times of family stress or unexpected life change.
At the same time, I think that Josh and I soon realized after a full schedule that even though we loved what we were doing, it was too much. We set a standard from the beginning that was not sustainable. Sure. It was fun. We built great relationships with students that we have even now. But we had to let some things go eventually and delegate to other awesome, capable leaders because we were simply trying to do too much.
We put an end to four nights a week and tried to be more intentional about our time in our second year. We have to check ourselves even now when we realize our weeks are filling up and we have no “sacred nights” at home. Some weeks are just busy, but when we fill fill fill up our schedules all for the sake of ministry, we end up burning ourselves out and it just becomes another appointment on the ical that hasn’t had an opening in months.
Is it our pride that gets in the way because we want to do it all ourselves?
Our inability to say no?
The myth that if it’s all ministry then it must be all well and good?
People pleasing showing its ugly face? (DING DING DING! This is so me!)
It could be one or all of those things–or something else that I am not mentioning that only you can identify.
How do you balance a full schedule in ministry? How many nights a week is too much for you? If you have kids, how did that change how you organized your schedule?
I am definitely the cheesy one in my relationship with my RP. Definitely. Today’s topic is just one example of this fact.
I may be alone here, but I really love new year’s resolutions. The name carries, however, a lot of baggage. We come in to a new year expecting in some ways to fail. No one comes out necessarily and says that but I think there is a little self doubt in all of us. So a couple of years ago I started drafting my yearly bucket list instead.
No, I didn’t see the Bucket List movie a couple years ago (although I do love that one John Mayer song that went with the movie), mainly because I know how it ends and get way too emotionally involved in movies in the first place, but I do like the concept of a bucket list–both for life and for the year! (I know that conceptually the title doesn’t make complete sense, but stick with me here).
In year’s past my bucket lists have included things like baking a pie (I didn’t get to this one, sadly), wearing more colors (I love black–but was relatively successful with this one), reading 12 books (success, however almost 50% of my total was read on vacation), and eating vegetables everyday (do tater-tots count?).
The bucket list item I want to share about for today’s post for RPW’s is setting aside dedicated time away with my RP.
The last couple of years we have set goals on our bucket list that have proven to be super helpful and life-giving in stressful seasons of ministry. It sort of evolved into what it is now, but I am thankful that it did.
For two years, we lived in a residence hall with 200+ freshmen women. During the academic year, I was only allowed to be gone one weekend a month, which we soon learned became a must in order to protect my sanity. But with a spouse in ministry where Sundays are the big day of the week, weekends and time away from work proved to be difficult. So we had to be creative and intentional about setting time away for rest and to reconnect.
Some of our weekends in the first semesters were spent with family, while others were just the two of us camping or taking a day trip somewhere (I’m partial to outlet malls, and Josh is partial to reading in the car while I shop at outlet malls).
But last year we decided to put a number on it for weekends away just the two of us. 4. Once a quarter (this sometimes included a Sunday off, but not always.). And we accomplished it. We planned ahead and were able to have meaningful, restful time away that we looked forward to throughout the year.
Let’s get this straight: I work in higher ed and am married to a pastor, so it’s not like we have an endless supply of cash for extravagant weekends away in fancy hotels eating nothing but filets and gold-leafed desserts (I prefer McFlurries). That’s where the creativity came into play. Here are a couple ideas:
I’m sure I’m missing some and that many readers have found ways to make weekends away work. What thoughts do you have about investing in your marriage? What works for you?
Thanks for reading!
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