I used to host a video series titled, Real Talk. I interviewed fifteen members of the North Christian Church (NCC) congregation and asked each of them five questions. Given the uniqueness of each person’s life, experiences, and current circumstances, I adapted my line of questioning. Every so often, I’ll take a peek at the videos and smile. I remember that special fellowship like it was just last week. It was truly beautiful to hear each individual express their love for the Lord through the context of their lives.
I just counted and five of the fifteen interviewees are no longer members of NCC. I miss every one of them. I listened to one of the videos yesterday and I became very sad. God has a plan for everyone, of course, and no shepherd or sheep should ever assume permanency in a given congregation, but as a shepherd, having been personally knit to the souls of these individuals at one point in our lives, I mourned our relationship. I get it, though, as is often the case, as life moves on, so do relationships (for better or worse). It’s just the way things go (e.g., When we say goodbye to someone, we often say, “We’ll stay in touch,” but how often are we faithful to that promise?). This blog isn’t about severed relationships, it’s simply about missing people whom I still love dearly.
I’ve never stopped loving someone whom I’ve personally loved in the past, hence the aforementioned sadness. The easier thing to do, of course, would be to displace that sadness with some other emotion (e.g., anger, ambivalence) but my heart doesn’t work like that.
Everyone faces adversity and must find ways to persevere through the oppressing moments of life. Everyone must get up and walk through the routines of making breakfast and washing clothes and going to work and paying bills and discipling children. We must, in general, keep life going when our hearts are breaking.
But it’s different with pastors—not totally different, but different. The heart is the instrument of our vocation.
Charles Spurgeon said, “Ours is more than mental work—it is heart work, the labour of our inmost soul.” When a pastor’s heart is breaking, therefore, he must labor with a broken instrument.
Preaching is the pastor’s main work, and preaching is heart work, not just mental work. The question becomes, then, not just how you keep living when the marriage is blank or when the finances don’t reach or when the pews are bare and friends forsake you, but how do you keep preaching?
When the heart is overwhelmed, it’s one thing to survive adversity; it is something entirely different to continue preaching Sunday after Sunday, month after month.
-How Charles Spurgeon Learned to Preach Through a Broken Heart, John Piper
Apparently, I’m not alone, and neither are you. So be encouraged. The heart is a tender instrument, indeed. It may be fragile, but it is also unconquerable.
I was thinking that though I may not even like someone I’m missing this way – we may have incompatible personalities, which is perfectly fine – that doesn’t mean I’m still not rooting for them, that I’m still not a fan of their successes, or that I’m begrudging them the same good tidings I wish for others. I miss them just the same and I miss seeing them grow in the grace and knowledge of God, firsthand. It’s maybe the most beautiful scene of all to behold as a pastor. (I hope I’m not waxing emotional here…I beg your forgiveness if that’s what it sounds like. I just miss people that are no longer in my life. I don’t have any expectations of things changing, per se – just sharing – maybe you can relate).
What gives me comfort is knowing that God has a plan and He’s a lot wiser than me, so I must accept His plan as righteous and good. As Job so simply stated:
“The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD.”
-Job 1:21b
In a similar vein of thought, Solomon said:
For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.
-Ecclesiastes 3:1
At the end of Jesus’ ministry, He had to break the news to His disciples that the Father’s plan was to remove Him from their presence. He encouraged them the way the Spirit is encouraging us here in this blog – God has a purpose for everything.
Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid. You heard me say to you, ‘I am going away, and I will come to you.’ If you loved me, you would have rejoiced, because I am going to the Father, for the Father is greater than I.
-John 14:27-28
Imagine how much Jesus’ disciples missed Him! How difficult it must’ve been to be in the presence of the Messiah and then have Him taken away. So, this longing that I’m describing isn’t at all unique; rather, in many ways it is an acceptable heartfelt human emotion (it’s indicative of a godly heart, after all). Paul shared similar thoughts, as well:
But since we were torn away from you, brothers, for a short time, in person not in heart, we endeavored the more eagerly and with great desire to see you face to face, because we wanted to come to you—I, Paul, again and again—but Satan hindered us. For what is our hope or joy or crown of boasting before our Lord Jesus at his coming? Is it not you? For you are our glory and joy.
-1 Thessalonians 2:17-20
If I’ve ever shepherded you, please know that I will always love you. If you’re reading this and you’re no longer in touch with me, please know that I think of you often. If you’ve been edified by even one aspect of my ministry, then please understand that you have a portion of my greatest labor in this life – you are my hope, my joy, my crown of boasting. I have no regrets, only a heart that rejoices always knowing that I will, minimally, be able to hug you once again in Heaven. To you I say unequivocally, “I miss you…for now.”
Love in Christ,
Ed Collins