Article
How to Stay Steadfast in Unmet Expectations
Pastoral ministry is nothing if not a series of dashed expectations, some of which can be absolutely disorienting at times.
We talked about it for years. We longingly gazed at stories on Instagram. Every summer, we would say, “We just need to do it.” And then finally, this year, we did.
We booked a fall road trip through New England.
All the leaf peeping, quaint country towns, and cups of hot apple cider we could get our hands on would finally be ours.
We arranged the trip to come right on the heels of a pastor’s and wives’ retreat we would be attending in Key West, Florida, so we packed three suitcases containing summer and autumn clothes, because autumn in Key West is still summer. Don’t worry, I’m not asking you to feel sorry for us in our suffering.
As you can imagine, we were excited as we flew into Boston after the retreat. We would be making a five-day loop through the leaf-strewn back roads of New Hampshire, Vermont, Connecticut, and Massachusetts, with the expectation that the colors and smells would propel us into the heights of autumn heaven and would make us the envy of every Instagram follower we ever had.
Unfortunately, it didn’t quite turn out as we had hoped. Of course, if you follow us on Instagram, you would have seen all kinds of lovely pictures featuring beautiful fall foliage, delicious food, and happy selfies in our cozy flannel shirts. What the pictures didn’t show was that we had arrived in New England during an oppressive heatwave. Let me tell you, there’s nothing that feels less like fall than roaming the picturesque streets of Woodstock, Vermont, while sweating like you’re on mile 25 of the Boston Marathon.
Like so many things, our beloved New England road trip didn’t quite live up to our expectations. We did everything we could, but the weather (OK, God) had other plans that were completely out of our control. On one hand, there was all this fall beauty to bathe in, but on the other hand was this summer heat that made it difficult to remain transfixed by the wonder of it all. Once again, we were faced with one of our greatest dreads: dashed expectations.
Here is where I’m going with this: Pastoral ministry is nothing if not a series of dashed expectations, some of which can be absolutely disorienting at times.
In the same hour, we can receive devastating news about the health of a church member, while the next moment brings the most encouraging report from another member. It’s these night/day, sweet/sour contrasts that make ministry such an emotionally challenging vocation. We weep and rejoice, sometimes in the same breath. Our lives are like transatlantic flights—everything is as smooth as can be, until turbulence arrives unannounced and our hearts sink into the pit of our stomachs. Even though we intellectually know that storms are always on the horizon, we can’t help but be surprised when the first thunderclap pierces our eardrums.
So, how do we remain steadfast when dashed expectations seem to be looming around every corner? As church planters, what do we need to guard against?
Paralysis
The sudden and jerky movements that characterize our ministries can threaten to paralyze us. Without even realizing it, we can slide into being over-cautious, risk-averse leaders in order to avoid crushing disappointment. God’s words to Joshua are timely ones for us.
“Haven’t I commanded you: be strong and courageous? Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go” (Joshua 1:9).
Here was Joshua, charged with taking over the leadership mantle from Moses, being instructed by God to be courageous. One can only imagine the thoughts that were swimming in Joshua’s head. He had seen everything there was to see—all of the good, bad, and ugly situations that had surfaced over the years, including the dashed expectations Moses faced when he wasn’t allowed to enter the promised land. It would’ve been understandable for Joshua to enter into his role experiencing some leadership paralysis, which is why the Lord reminds him of His presence. When we find ourselves shrinking back because of all the ifs, ands, or buts that planting inevitably brings, we speak the words God spoke to Joshua, and remember that His presence is the medicine needed to ward off the threat of paralysis. And then we move forward the best we can.
Posturing
On the other side of paralysis is posturing. Depending on our personalities, instead of shrinking back into a corner, we can attempt to flex instead, to prove to ourselves and everybody around us that we got this. On the one hand, we need to be leaders who are willing to push through adversity and dashed expectations, but we must do so faithfully, not foolishly.
“A fool’s way is right in his own eyes, but whoever listens to counsel is wise” (Proverbs 12:15).
A foolish leader is one who, in attempting to be seen as capable, ends up leading like a bull in a china shop. Although guarding against paralysis is a good thing, a leader who simply postures in order to paint on a brave face will eventually end up in a worse place than where they began, unable to navigate the dashed expectations of ministry with wisdom and grace.
So, if those are two things to guard against, what’s one thing we should prayerfully pursue while planting?
Power
It feels weird typing that, but it shouldn’t. Christians need to pray for power. Not the kind of power that goes bad in our souls, but the kind the Holy Spirit provides for our souls so that we move through these big and little letdowns with strength and faith.
Paul writes,
“I pray that he may grant you, according to the riches of his glory, to be strengthened with power in your inner being through his Spirit, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith” (Ephesians 3:16-17a).
The power we possess in our inner beings through the Spirit is none other than Christ himself—the object of our faith, shepherd of our souls, and affection of our hearts who carries us through the most crushing of disappointments. What’s hard to remember when we find ourselves in the throes of dashed expectations is that they are actually divine moments in disguise.
If the Lord only ever put us in the most ideal situations, we would rarely feel the need to pray for the power necessary to strengthen our faith. We would believe that God was the kind of father whose job it was to give His children whatever they asked for, which, by the way, sounds great in theory. Except, a father who spoils his children is not one who typically cares too much about the souls of his children.
If we begin to interpret our dashed expectations as divine moments in disguise, Christ Himself will seem much less disguised when we experience life’s most biting blows.
