I remember the first time I sensed the changing of seasons in my ministry. Standing in the doorway of my office, I watched the senior pastor listen to a new staff member—the way he used to listen to me.
Things had changed around me and, for whatever reason, I hadn’t changed with them. My gut wrenched. Suddenly, I realized I was outside of what used to be my territory.
Because churches are living, breathing organisms, they change as they grow. They morph from season to season, dropping leaves and setting new buds. This can bring unexpected opportunities. It can also close familiar doors.
In the church, success and longevity hinge on knowing whether to hold on or let go, when to build a cocoon and when to break out of one. Mandatory skills include doing a job well, but also periodically finding new ways to do the job as the rules change. An associate may lead several different specialized ministries during his or her career, even in a single church.
My penchant is for start-ups. I love the fresh paint feel of a new ministry. The tricky part is that starting a ministry requires a different set of skills from operating that ministry long term.
Whether I outgrow a position or it outgrows me, change is inevitable. It does no good to yell at the trees; the seasons won’t change back. So, I remind myself that everything is for a time. Only God knows when the first leaf will turn. Still, I am seldom ready for that moment when I must decide between the rake and the “For Sale” sign.
Meanie, Meanie, Fickle Parson
Sitting at my desk, I stared at the wall. It seemed logical that if I stared long enough, the handwriting would appear, and I would know exactly what to do.
I understood the reality: a new pastor had arrived with his choice for associate minister, one whose agenda included a lot of what had been my job. I felt unwanted, outdated, and out of the loop. My opinion didn’t carry the weight it once did.
Yet, I couldn’t still the voice telling me that if I was worth my salt, the new leadership would value my presence. I could simply speak louder; maybe then they would hear me. Or I could clam up; my silence would speak for me.
It was obvious that more change was coming, and I didn’t know how to handle it. All I knew was that it hurt.
Why, I wondered, is it so painful?
One reason is that, as ministers, what we do is much of who we are. We interpret our vocation in terms of “call.” We know God’s call on our lives is broader than the job description in a personnel file, but that distinction gets lost. Somewhere along the way, the job takes on more importance than the call. Success as a professional—and faithfulness as a disciple—seem to be defined by job performance.
Another reason is the human element in change. The shifting seasons in church life often appears man-made. Remembering that God still controls the weather is an effort that stretches the best of us. Change often feels like failure, particularly if it seems to lessen our influence.
At the most basic level, change is painful because we need to support ourselves and our households. It’s scary to think that we have failed, but it’s utterly terrifying to wonder what will happen if we can’t pay our bills.
A Plan for Winter
No inscription appeared on the wall that afternoon telling me what to do. I decided to slow down and observe the signs of the season. In time I would know my next step.
Here are some notes I made to myself while the leaves were turning colors.
1. Back up and look up. Deliberately stop defining every action and reaction as success or failure. No matter how politically intense or emotionally difficult the situation is, see the bigger picture.
Start with a blank piece of paper and a pencil. First, write a paragraph describing your predicament starting with “The problem seems to be … ” Allow yourself no more than a half a page. Then imagine yourself five years down the road. All that’s swirling around you now is past. You are sitting with someone younger than you who is having a similar experience. Write a paragraph describing their situation starting with “The problem seems to be … “
I’ve found the scene looks different when it’s not my own. The insight we offer others is often more reasonable and helpful than the assessment we give ourselves.
2. Find shelter. Invite at least two safe people to journey with you. This can be difficult if most of your friends are in your church. Ask God to reveal them to you. If necessary, pay a counselor to walk with you for the short term.
Ask these people to keep you focused on what God is doing in your life rather than the circumstances. A simple 30-minute phone conversation each week will make you organize your thoughts and describe for someone else how you see the journey unfolding.
3. Check your inventory. There are plenty of tools that help you label your strengths and weaknesses, both personal and professional. Ask a career counselor to recommend a couple of personality tests. A seminary or denominational headquarters may be able to help. You have grown in significant ways as you weathered life. This can be a time of discovery.
4. Make careful changes. Decide what adjustments you need to make or ask for in your current situation to give you the best chance of success. Take it three months at a time, or even one month at a time.
You are a child of God, called to follow him. You can do that while continuing to do a good job at your daily tasks. If you have some sense of God’s leading, begin growing in that direction.
5. Prepare for the outcome, whatever it may be. List all the options, no matter how bizarre or threatening. (You still have the other side of that sheet of paper.) But also take the opportunity to dream. God’s power is at work in your life. Whether this next leg of your journey involves a new job description or a new job, it will require courage and faith and hard work. Your best choice is to be about what God is about.
6. Reconnect. Last on the list, this is the most important activity in seasonal change. Spend time with God in worship and prayer. Require yourself to focus on your relationship with your creator without your work situation controlling every prayer and thought. Jobs are important, but they aren’t everything. Reconnect with “everything.”
Reconnect with family, friends, your sense of purpose in the world. Reconnect with a concept of ministry beyond your present setting. God’s call is first about you as a person. The role and location may change, but God’s call is still upon you as much as ever.
If a position that used to fit feels uncomfortable, then God is doing something different. If what used to fill you now drains you, then God is doing something different. He may be molding you to stay. He may be preparing you for a new ministry.
God doesn’t shelter us from change. He uses it to prepare us for a new season of service.
Carol Smith is a minister and writer living in Nashville, Tennessee.
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