October is Pastor Appreciation Month, and as I reflect on the many godly men in my life who are faithfully serving their guts out, I want to first say – thank you…
- Thank you for answering the call to ministry…
- Thank you for sticking it out where others quit…
- Thank you for the years of preparation you have committed to your calling…
- Thank you for continuing to grow rather than settle…
- Thank you for your example to other pastors…
- Thank you for faithfully continuing to preach the Word…
- Thank you for trying your best to navigate social landmines with wisdom…
- Thank you for loving people when they are often very unloving to you…
Secondly, I know… I know all too well, the private battles you fight, and the massive, unseen burdens you carry. I know the loneliness of this job, and the emotional and spiritual isolation that often comes with it. I know what it feels like to have people expect you to be utterly committed to them, while treating you like an option. I’ve experienced the heavy price of leadership, all while knowing you can’t really explain it to your people without feeling like you’re “scaring the children” with the reality of the pressure you must constantly navigate.
I know the joy you feel of a hand going up, a foot stepping out, the waters being moved, and a life being changed by the Gospel. I know how sometimes, you hold onto and reserve that feeling like a camel saving water, not knowing what you’re going to need it for, just that you are going to need it. I know you have a secret drawer somewhere, where you’ve hidden cards from last Pastor Appreciation Month that you open up and read throughout the year, especially on the hard days. I know you feel guilty planning a vacation, especially if it means missing more than one Sunday. I know that the reason you have pictures all over the place is to constantly remind you why you do it all.
I know you’ve worried for your kids, and whether you’ve done enough to love them and model your faith without turning them off to the church. I know the tension of trying to decide how much church business you should share with your wife. I know you have to turn your phone on airplane mode while on a date, just to discipline yourself to not check messages or emails when you’re with your wife.
I know the anxiety of the ominous “pastor, can we talk?” text you get at the worst possible time. I know that feeling you get every Sunday, when you wonder if anyone is even going to show up, no matter how long you’ve been doing this. I know the multiple tensions of having enough volunteers, creating a welcoming environment, staying faithful to the message, and being strategic in your vision. I know the weekly balancing act of preparing a sermon that is Biblically accurate and culturally relevant, intelligent but accessible, benefiting to seekers and blessing seasoned saints, funny but not too funny, serious but not too serious, addressing sin but speaking life.
I know you’ve skipped many days off, because the ministry needed you for an event, a marriage was in crisis, someone ended up in the hospital, or there’s been a death in the church family. I know you counted that missions trip as “vacation time” even though you preached three times, and attended six meetings. I know you’ve sat on a diagnosis without telling your church family, because you don’t want to worry them, and you’re afraid of how it might impact the health of the church. I know you sleep like crap, and you wish you were in better shape.
I know you’re tired, stressed, and overwhelmed. You don’t feel like you’re enough, and you’ve had many moments when you’ve wondered if you ever will. You might not be able to share it with your congregation, but I know. Because you’re not alone. I don’t know which pastor may be reading this, but I want you to know I love you. I might not know your name, but I love you. I love you for not quitting, for not giving up. I love you for feeling that fire in your veins when you stand to preach, and remember that this is why you were born. I love you for needing a nap on Sundays, because you poured everything you had into your preaching and loving your people. I love you for looking past your congregation to your mission field, and being moved with compassion for your city. I love you for weeping for strangers, because like our Savior, you are moved with compassion for those who have yet to meet the Good Shepherd. I love you for eating the criticism that comes your way, and remaining unwavering in your calling. I love you for the smile you put on your face, not to be fake, but to try your best to lift your countenance, and bless the people talking to you, without weighing them down. I love you for making time for people just appear out of thin air – because let’s be honest, you don’t have any time.
I love you, regardless of who you are, because sometimes I have to remind myself that I’m not alone in this either. And just knowing that a few of you might be reading this and feel some of what I feel, and know what I know, is enough for me to keep doing what God has called me to do. I love you, pastor… please, keep up the good work. The Kingdom is better for having you in it. The payoff is on the other side. So keep fighting the good fight. And Happy Pastor Appreciation Month.
Blessings,
Pastor John