Confessions of a Pastor, Part 2

(Part 1 of this confession can be found here)

About a year after I had begun counseling, I was finally in a position to make the changes that I needed to make in order to rebuild my life on a solid foundation. It had all started in the fall of 2009:

While I had been living to please people for years, I hadn't been truly overwhelmed until our senior pastor took two months off for a sabbatical, a spiritual refresher. I had almost begged for a sabbatical in 2003 and then again in 2007, but the church leaders didn't think it was necessary and didn't seem to understand why they would pay me to not be there. But in 2009, when our pastor had seen tragedy in his family and in the church, they began to understand.

Everything in me knew that he needed this time. He had been through a very difficult couple of years and wasn't acting like himself. He needed time to untie some of the knots in his heart and refocus on his wife and family and his own self care.

I determined to be both Pastor and Assistant Pastor until he returned. The normal pressures of my job remained constant, but I added the responsibility of checking my email constantly throughout the day, answering every phone call, and being "on" all the time. My sleep suffered. And, in turn everything else suffered.

The elders praised my leadership and wisdom during this time, and I felt that emotional inflation that I longed for. But it faded as quickly as it would come. It wasn't enough.

As a pastor, I had learned to suppress my feelings and to not express emotion in order to be strong and trustworthy for others to be able to rely on. But, in the previous 4 years, I had been reemerging, feeling again, and learning to recognize and express my emotion appropriately. All of that shut down again. I went into survival mode.

I ministered to others out of a numbness in my soul.

Though only those closest to me seemed to notice, I was dying.

When the pastor returned in October, he asked me how I was doing. I said, "Fine" and the catching up on things continued. He and I had grown to trust one another through our time together pursuing a doctorate degree. So, I wasn't lying, I was just carrying on as I had learned to, putting one foot in front of the other.

The next morning, during my prayer time, I typed out this letter to him. I am not even sure if I sent this or something similar:

Pastor,

I didn’t know how to say this in person when you asked yesterday, but I feel on edge all the time. I feel like I am one step away from burning out. I feel like...everyone wants a little piece of me. I feel like I am empty and when I get up early to pray or spend a moment to talk with Rachel that it is just a little sip of cool water and doesn’t satisfy, just shows me how thirsty I really am, and then I am pouring it out and become dehydrated so quickly again. I feel like I am always about ready to burst into tears or punch something in anger. I can’t seem to cry, so the only emotion that surfaces is the anger. ... I am empty and can’t seem to refill. I am trying to be refreshed and recommitted to doing the simple things which I know God will use to refresh me, but I can’t seem to catch up. I always feel like it is just out of reach and then the next phone call comes. … I have no sense of well being. ... Everything is laborious and it takes forever for me to think and decide and act.

Thanks for asking. I’m not sure what to do now. I am trusting that God will provide rest and refresh me by his Spirit.

My cry for help,

Dave

Pastor and the elders took it seriously and told me to take a month off during the Christmas season and two months off during the summer.

I began to go to counseling during this first sabbatical month and continued it for over a year. In the beginning, there was just an amazing freedom to speak about myself and delve into my own heart and soul, to let the tears flow whenever they wanted to with no reason in the world to hold back.

I was convinced that there was no way forward without dealing with whatever might surface. The counselor was great. He would listen and probe and listen some more. Eventually, when I was done unloading, he would gently guide my thinking or give me direction. But, he always began by allowing me to explore my own heart in the presence of God and so helped me not to be afraid of what I might find.

I found lots of pain and lots of grace.

My counselor affirmed what I knew to be true. I had to care for myself, my soul, my heart, even my body, before I could be of any use to help anyone else. I was at a pivotal junction in my life. I had felt hopeless and helpless, but was beginning to believe that God could lead me through this.

I learned to make simple changes that would redirect my path and bring me closer to health and healing.

If you have found yourself in a similar situation or are there right now, here is what I learned about myself and how to promote health.

First, I set and reset clear boundaries.This wasn't a one time fix it all. The boundaries kept shifting as I grew to understand myself and my needs and my capacities.
 
I had to say, "No," to good things in order to say, "Yes," to the right things, the best things, the things that offered me hope for the future. Anything that I was doing to please people instead of for the glory of God had to stop. Even when it came from my bosses, I would say, "No, I don't think that's best." If they still wanted me to do it, I would try to explain what things I would have to stop doing in order to do this thing and then follow their lead.

Every time we say, "Yes" to something, we are saying no to lots of other things.

I said, "No," to counseling parishioners and coworkers when I already had someone to counsel that day. I mostly limited the counseling sessions to one hour each day. It was all I could handle. I made sure I was home with my family two of the five nights during the week. I stopped staying up past ten or else I couldn't get up by 6 to spend time with God. I set up relational boundaries and limited some peoples' access to me. This was the hardest and most crucial because these were some of the same people who I had earlier depended on for affirmation.

Maybe there are some things that you just need to stop doing. Maybe that will be the key that changes how you feel and which direction you are headed. I needed to do this and more...

Second, I found things that were truly refreshing.

Music - I would listen to uplifting, positive music that made me feel good.
Exercise - I started running, moving, sweating. I had not felt so good physically in years. But, it also helped me feel better emotionally.
Create - Writing poetry, painting, drawing, computer design, photography. I tried it all and enjoyed expressing myself and my feelings.
Sabbath - Taking one day a week off, totally off. It was hard and many weeks I failed, but it was great when it happened. I used that time to decompress, disconnect, connect with my soul and connect with my kids.
Journal - I had been doing this for years, and it is probably one of the keys that kept me going for as long as I did. This allowed me to think and not judge my thoughts, just let them flow.
Prayer and Bible reading - Often in my journal, I would record my prayers and what I believed God was saying to me. I would also read the Bible, listening for God's word to me. This allowed my relationship with Christ to grow and develop and stay fresh, vibrant and relevant.
Talk to Rachel - Spending time with Rachel allowed me to have confidence that we were in accord, of one mind about the direction and purpose of our lives. Without this, I would find myself constantly wondering and worried. With it, I could relax and focus on the moment. We tried to talk each night before we fell asleep.

I don't know which of these things would be refreshing to anyone else, but these are the things that gave me more than they took. They refreshed and revitalized me.

Others are refreshed by yoga, walks in nature, time spent in solitude, time spent with certain friends, phone calls to a certain relative, jacuzzi time or time making music. The key is to find what refreshes you. What makes you smile just to think about it.

Use a scalpel, surgically remove those things that are most draining by setting clear boundaries and use that time to set up routines of refreshing.

Those things that refresh you, then, become the backbone of your life. They form the skeleton which provides the strength and support that everything else forms around. So, first thing in the morning, don't check your emails from work, spend time sipping coffee, listening to the birds and reading the Bible. At lunch, don't work through lunch isolated in your cubicle, pounding out one more email that has to get sent. Do a crossword, listen to some positive music, talk with a friend while eating a healthy lunch, walk around the outside of the building to get some fresh air, or take 5 minutes to meditate on a passage of Scripture.

Be patient with yourself. I had spent years getting myself to the point of burnout, listening to my counselor, I realized that it would take months if not years to rebuild my life on a new foundation.

After a year and a half of setting healthy boundaries and filling my life with things that were refreshing and revitalizing, I felt whole again. I was hopeful and had joy again. I felt positive about the future and looked forward to each day's possibilities.

"Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." Trust God that He can get you from here to there. Whether you are desperate like I was or just feeling afraid that you can't do it all, begin to make changes that will allow you to obey God when He calls, to be who you were created to be, to Follow Your Bliss.

PS - Yesterday, I found this timely article by Craig Groeschel on the addictive need to please, and what finally set him free.

Confessions of a Pastor

I was a well-loved pastor at a local church of 200 or so members. I have a perfect family: a loving wife, Rachel, two strong daughters and two happy sons. I had a job that I had worked for 19 years and was convinced that it was God’s will for me. I had lots of love and support and had made some lifelong friendships, though fewer than I had thought.

The difficulty of the job was that I would often work long hours, missing evenings at home for one meeting or another. Many days, I would come home emotionally drained from counseling people through difficult times in their lives. When I didn’t have parishioners to counsel, often my coworkers would look to me for counseling. Because of the emotional drain, my relationship with Rachel suffered. I often lost my patience and my temper with the kids. I was running on empty and not sure how to recover.

I was miserable and a few years ago, I felt completely overwhelmed. I wondered how I had gotten so burnt out?

Everything I did, I tried to do my best.
Everything I did, I tried to be “good”.
How can being good be bad?

But, I knew that I could no longer live like this.
I had to stop and figure out...What was happening? Who was I anyway? Where was I headed?

So, I went to counseling. I told my counselor my story and heard it myself for the first time from my own lips.

I grew up with loving parents in a loving family in a lovely suburban home. I was surrounded by nature and had good friends. It was all pretty amazing. And, as a kid, I looked to my Mom. She was perfect to me. She worked hard to make sure we were provided for. She loved us; she hugged and kissed us; she cooked for us and cleaned up after us. She came to our games and cheered us on. She was perfect. Not Oedipus complex perfect, but Mary Poppins perfect (without the carpet bag).

Then every weekend, my Dad would be home with us. And, there he’d sit, in his recliner, watching TV, and not even noticing my Mom cooking and cleaning and serving him ice coffee.

Somehow, in my mind, my Dad became the captor and my Mom needed to be rescued. I was a kid, so I “rescued” by helping to set the table or cook or clean. Whatever I could do to help my Mom, I wanted to do. I was just a kid.

And, I noticed something, whenever I helped, I was praised and thanked. It brought a smile to my Mom's face. I brought a smile to my Mom's face.

"You are so cute

so helpful

such a good kid."

Those words felt so good to hear.

They fed the empty part of my soul.

I was "good" because she said so.

I couldn’t rescue my mom (especially since I found out much later that she didn’t want rescuing. She actually loved using her gifts and abilities to serve others), but I really liked getting those compliments.

That stuck with me. I learned to be helpful wherever I went, whenever I wanted some positive attention: in the classroom, on a team, with friends, at work and even at church. After I became a Christian at 15, I realized that church people really liked you if you were helpful. They said many of the same things my Mom had said.

In college, I started helping out with the youth program in a church. My senior year, I got hired as a part-time youth leader. I went on to get my master’s degree in divinity, so I could be a pastor full time. I became a youth pastor. Then, I became an assistant pastor. Every time, being a helper was rewarded. And, I kept hearing those compliments. And, I believed that I was “good” because they said I was good.

To me, those compliments were like helium in the balloon of my emotions. Over time, they would wear off, and I would feel like I was dragging on the floor, and I just needed a bit more of that helium. Sometimes I would go weeks with just enough small compliments to keep me feeling great about myself. Other times, when I’d screw up and hurt someone’s feelings or let someone down, when I was feeling lonely or unlovable, I would feel emotionally exhausted.

I learned that I needed a “hit” of affirmation to make me feel good about myself.

So, I would go to work and serve and be helpful. Most of the time, my strategy worked. I surrounded myself with positive, encouraging people and I tried hard to please them.

Sometimes, I just wanted someone to smile. Other times, I needed to know that I was the one they needed to help them, the one who finally listened to them or spent time with them.

I created this image of myself. I am a: Good Christian. Good person. Good friend. Good father. Good husband. Good pastor. I am Good.

My image was critical to my happiness. I clung to it. I believed it. I lived it. I made everyday choices based on it. I dreamt of being good and then I acted like it was true.

What I thought was positive, became negative. I wound up thriving on other people needing me. I wasn’t happy unless I was successful at helping someone else feel happy. I was driven to help, to rescue, to save.

I was simply acting out what I had learned all those years ago. If you want people to be happy with you, help them to feel happy about themselves.

This in turn led eventually to me losing my job. Not that many people knew the why behind the what, behind my actions.

A couple of years ago after some intense times with my counselor and even more intense time with God, I realized that the reality is: God did call me to be a pastor. But, on the human side, I chose to be a pastor because I wanted to feel good about myself by helping other people feel good about themselves. At this, I was very skilled. But, it couldn’t last. The foundation couldn’t last. So, God tore down that foundation and had me start over building a new life on a new self-image.

I am only good in Christ. I am weak and His power is made perfect through my weakness.

(Part 2 of this confession can be found here)