Introduction
This poem appeared in the Christian newspaper Evangelicals Now in October 2022:2
I am a pastor, not a punchbag for your pain.
Or had you forgotten that I am human too?
I can see it can help to have someone to blame,
but is this actually about me or more about you?
Your mumblings became grumblings when life became harder.
I’m so sorry – it really does hurt me to see you suffer.
Truly, I seek your best, even though you always know ‘better’;
I want you to rest in the embrace of the World’s Greatest Lover.
You say my preaching lacks depth and isn’t exegetical;
others tell me it’s too rich and rigidly Scriptural.
You say I’m detached, distant and even disinterested;
others tell me I’m inappropriately, emotionally over-invested.
There are moments when I’m very tempted to quit.
Did you know that? I expect not; perhaps you’d be happier if I did.
I was actually signed off work with depression by my GP.
But I didn’t dare take it, fearing more criticism against me.
I soldier on (calling not done) to be a good pastor, only to fail and inevitably falter;
for only God can be worshipped at this altar –
that you desire me to die on for you.
Do you know that I am not your Saviour?
I write in support of unfairly treated pastors,
Yes, some have been abusive and done much wrong,
but others are victims of proud church members;
wounded by the very community to which they
also belong.
Selah.
Pastor Anon
Look beyond the poor poetry to the pain that lies beneath. How can I say that? Because, yes, you guessed it, I wrote it. Is it one-sided? Yes. Am I also guilty of wrongdoing? Of course. But have I been beaten up by discouragement (despite being generously loved by many good church people)? Most certainly, yes.
A few years ago, my parents shared an intriguing story they’d heard about a former pastor of theirs. During one Sunday sermon, they abruptly halted their message, appearing agitated and angry. They then ran out of the building and were later kept in hospital under the Mental Health Act. At the time, I sympathised with the difficult situation they faced while arrogantly thinking, ‘I’ll never let that happen to me.’ I was wrong.
According to Christian research giants Barna, 42 per cent of pastors thought about quitting the ministry in the year leading up to March 2022 – a significant increase on previous years, probably brought on by the global pandemic. I wonder how much discouragement is to blame. Blocked goals. Broken dreams. Hopes deferred, making hearts sick.
Fast forward with me to March 2023. I am emotionally and physically exhausted. I have decided to resign from my lead pastor role. How did this happen? In short, a relentless foe invaded my spirit – discouragement. It seized me with such force that it transformed into debilitating depression, occasionally tightening into the stranglehold of despair. I found myself gasping for air, suffocating beneath the burden of seemingly unattainable expectations, both externally and internally imposed.
But because of the grace of God, I didn’t give up, and neither should you. Aware of so many other sufferers, I felt stirred to read as much as I could, speak with as many people as possible and share what was helpful. This is the record of that experiment, turning these conversations into the edited contributor chapters featured in this book. Reflecting upon it now, having completed the initial draft, I can confidently affirm that ‘victory is won through many advisors’ (Proverbs 11:14). The Scriptures hold profound wisdom, and our triune God – Father, Son and Holy Spirit – genuinely desires for you to rediscover hope and embrace courage once more.
Within the pages of this book lies a potent elixir for weary souls – an antidote crafted to liberate us from the shackles of toxic discouragement. Its purpose is to protect us from the dangerous downward progression of disappointments taking us into the gruelling grip of discouragement, which could lead to depression. However, to truly harness the full transformative power of its contents, you’ll need to make time to do its suggested action steps, engaging in a healthy amount of self-reflection, with the first question being, ‘How does discouragement get at you?’
But if you’re anything like me, you’ll find it hard to slow down enough to do that. Yet you must. Like shaken jars of river water, we need to be still and let the sediment – the inner angst and everything else around – settle so we can see and think clearly. Please don’t make the same mistake as I did. Instead, pause, breathe deeply, seek to be still for a few moments, and make space for our Divine Physician to do what He does best.
Discouragement comes at me in many ways, but ‘you’re not good enough’ is the most common. It breaks down into: ‘You’re not knowledgeable enough,’ ‘You’re not experienced enough,’ and, ‘You’re not outgoingenough’ (ie, too introverted).
Pause!
So how does discouragement get at you?
Take time to reflect on this for a few minutes.
According to Google, discouragement is ‘a loss of confidence or enthusiasm; dispiritedness’. The Latin prefix ‘dis’ means apart, so to be discouraged is to be separated from courage. Other dictionaries describe it as a loss of the inner resolve – both mentally and morally – to take risks and persevere in the face of difficulty. But it’s more personal than that. The root of the word courage is ‘cor’ – the Latin word for heart. Discouragement invades the very core of our being.
The word ‘discourage’ or ‘discouraged’ appears six times in the ESV Bible translation. The first occurrences in Numbers 32:7, 9 highlight its effect not just on a person’s heart but the heart of a people. It takes away our confidence to take possession of what God has given. Isn’t discouragement a loss of confidence in who we are in Christ due to His victory at the cross – not savouring all the victory spoils of our salvation? The other references are connected with being weary, afraid, faint-hearted and quickly thrown into a state of panic.
Good company
As we embark on this journey together, it’s good to know that we’re not alone – and it’s not just the two of us. The founder and former international director of Operation Mobilisation, George Verwer, wrote, ‘Simple, straightforward discouragement is the biggest drain on our spiritual resources. No one is free of it; many suffer from it acutely.’
Everyone with a beating heart battles discouragement, no matter how cool, calm and collected they pretend to be. Nineteenth-century preaching legend Charles Spurgeon and twenty-first-century creative writing genius J K Rowling experienced significant discouragement. Such people are helpful company in unhappy times, which is why this book is broken up by stories of faithful Christ-followers sharing their encouraging insights. They’re
supported by testimonies from our persecuted family around the world. Collectively, they’ve breathed catalytic oxygen into the burnt-out embers of my heart; I pray they’ll greatly bless you, too.
It’s also vital we recall revered characters of biblical history – Moses, Elijah, Job and Jonah – all of whom became so discouraged they wished for death. Overwhelmed by the weighty responsibilities of leadership, Moses cried out to God, ‘If this is how you are going to treat me, please go ahead and kill me’ (Numbers 11:15). Exhausted from intense ministry and intimidating threats, Elijah exclaimed, ‘I have had enough, LORD … Take my life; I am no better than my ancestors’ (1 Kings 19:4).
Interestingly, it was these two spiritual giants who stood beside Jesus at His transfiguration.9 Super saints but also broken believers. But why them? In addition to representing the Law and the Prophets, could it be they were comforting Christ (in His humanity) with the comfort they’d received? Were they helping to prepare Him to face deep discouragement in the Garden of Gethsemane and fearful forsakenness on the cross? Did their greatest ministry, then, come not from their strengths but from their weaknesses?
Kintsugi
My wife took me to a kintsugi workshop in London for my forty-fourth birthday. If you’ve not heard of kintsugi, it’s a Japanese word that means ‘gold joining’. It’s been called ‘the poetic mend’ – making a broken object new and much more precious by filling its cracks with gold. Artist, researcher and former editor of Ceramic Review, Bonnie Kemske, described it like this: ‘an intimate metaphoric narrative of loss and recovery, breakage and restoration, tragedy and the ability to overcome it’.
What if your brokenness could be made beautiful? What if discouragement is designed to make you stronger – as the wind to the roots of a tree?
During the workshop, we each chose a plate or bowl to break using a hammer. What struck me as intriguing was the need for skill, training and careful supervision to ensure that the ceramic vessel didn’t splinter or shatter into pieces. This raises a fascinating parallel: could this be an illustration of how the sovereignty of God operates in our lives through moments of hardship and adversity? ‘We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed’ (2 Corinthians 4:8-9).
Whereas breaking took seconds, repairing each crack with glue and imitation gold dust took fifteen minutes – more than an hour for the complete restoration. This is the expedited budget version: traditional kintsugi restoration can take two to three months! Isn’t that how life often works?
As I’ve reflected on this imbalance between breaking and healing, my thinking is that God permits it so we can spend more time in the arms of the Divine Physician.
Pause!
Where in your life have you experienced a sudden ‘break’ that required a much longer season of healing? How might viewing that slower restoration as time spent in the arms
of the Divine Physician transform your perspective on what you’re going through?
Strength in weakness
The Prince of Preachers, Charles Spurgeon, mentioned above, suffered depression – an anguish his wife, Susannah, described as ‘deep and violent’. But this thorn in the flesh gave unexpected power to his ministry. One Sunday, he preached on Matthew 27:46, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’ – speaking from his own experiences without saying so. ‘I heard my own chains clank,’ he said, ‘while I tried to preach to my fellow-prisoners in the dark, but I could not tell why I was brought into such an awful horror of darkness, for which I condemned myself.’
The next day, a man bearing the marks of despair came to see him. He said:
‘I never before, in my life, heard any man speak who seemed to know my heart. Mine is a terrible case, but on Sunday morning, you painted me to the life and preached as if you had been inside my soul.’ By God’s grace, I saved that man from suicide, and led him into the gospel’s light and liberty, but I know I could not have done it if I had not myself been confined in the dungeon in which he lay.
Disappointment, discouragement, depression and despair should not be seen as disqualifying disorders. Nope, it’s the opposite. Our shared experiences of them, in union with Christ, equip and qualify us for effective ministry. Weakness should not be viewed as failure, because it’s the foundation for strength.
Questions
You may have noticed that you’ve encountered several questions already in this book. I’ve taken this approach because I really value them. As a junior courtroom lawyer specialising in criminal law, I was trained to ask them; they are, after all, fundamental tools of the profession. I’ve also experienced their transformative power as a senior practitioner coach.
In the pages of Scripture, we see God using them to rescue us from the muddy mires into which we can sink. Consider His first, to Adam and Eve after their disobedience. When they were consumed by fear and shame, our all-knowing God asked, ‘Where are you?’ (Genesis 3:9). It was a catalyst for reorientation, an invitation to come out from hiding and enjoy God’s nurturing presence, a call to confront challenging realities with the strength bestowed by heaven. And it’s like Father, like Son: in Twenty Questions Jesus Asked, former Bishop of Oxford John Pritchard wrote, ‘Jesus was brilliant at asking the right questions, the sort that opened up new spiritual space and helped people to listen to whispers and hopes from deep within themselves.’
Questions also serve as a tool for slowing down our hurried pace of life. We often lack the discipline of self-reflection, getting caught up in the perpetual rat race – charging around to keep everyone happy. Not long ago, I got caught speeding and had to take the National Speed Awareness Course. I’m actually glad I did – it was a real eye-opener. The science they shared was challenging: driving faster doesn’t actually save you much time, if any, but it seriously increases the risk of accidents happening. Just one mile an hour over the limit can make stopping distances way longer than we think.
That hit me on a deeper level, too. Life’s the same – we’re always rushing, but at what cost? We can go through life at a million miles an hour, forgetting, as one of the most influential Asian theologians, Kosuke Koyama, reminds us, that we serve a three-mile-an-hour God. That’s walking pace, by the way. This is the deliberate speed God chose to come alongside us – a gentle reminder for us to embrace a slower, more loving way of living that has time for God, ourselves and others.
This book, therefore, is designed a little differently from some. Its backbone is seven restorative questions intended to anchor us to hope (again). These chapters are broken up with pause points and conclude with stop-and-think sections to help us slow down, to reflect on what’s been shared and to encounter God.
David
When grappling with discouragement, a verse that has always captivated my attention is 1 Samuel 30:6. David returned from avoiding fighting for the Philistines against his own people to discover the Amalekites had pillaged his Ziklag homestead. The devastation was overwhelming, with the entire settlement burned to the ground and their loved ones taken captive. David and his men were overcome with grief and ‘wept aloud’ (v 4). Amid this dire situation, however, and despite David’s outraged men talking of stoning him, we find these words: ‘But David found strength in the LORD his God’ (v 6). In the Amplified version the phrase is ‘felt strengthened and encouraged’. According to Strong’s Concise Dictionary, the Hebrew word being translated here can mean:
châzaq, khaw-zak´; a prim. root; to fasten חָ זַק .2388 upon; hence to seize, be strong … be of good (take) courage (-ous, -ly), encourage (self), be established, fasten, force, fortify, make hard, harden, help, (lay) hold (fast), lean, maintain, play the man, mend, become (wax) mighty, prevail, be recovered, repair, retain, seize, be (wax) sore strengthen (self), be stout, be (make, shew, wax) strong (-er), be sure, take (hold), be urgent, behave self valiantly, withstand.
I particularly like the idea of David fastening himself upon and cleaving to the Lord his God. The sense of him repairing himself in the Lord is also intriguing. What word(s) caught your attention?
The big question, though, is, ‘How?’ Right? How did David encourage himself in the Lord?
The essence of this book lies in our collective endeavour – mine and others’, and yours – to address this transformational question. We’ll answer it together by delving into the life of David, drawing insights from Scripture and sharing personal experiences. David serves as an immensely inspirational figure to explore. He grants us permission to feel and weep just as Jesus did, and to pray our pain to God, as exemplified in Psalm 38. David experienced deep discouragement stemming from his own sins, as well as injustices inflicted upon him. Remarkably, he’s called ‘a man after [God’s] own heart’ (1 Samuel 13:14). There’s so much wisdom for us to glean from his life.
Stop and think
- Discouragement poisons our hearts from living courageously for God’s good purposes. Where have external pressures, like criticism, people-pleasing and perfectionism, distanced you from your identity and calling in Christ?
- In moments when you feel like a damaged vessel, how might your brokenness be an invitation to experience more of the gold of God’s goodness? In other words, where could ‘kintsugi’ happen in your life?
