Paul wrote to the Corinthians, “Besides everything else, I face daily the pressure of my concern for all the churches” (2 Corinthians 11:28). The Apostle Paul, like every pastor, knew what it was to carry the burden of concern for others. As a pastor for over thirty years, I understand just how heavy that burden can be, and the emotional toll it can take when it’s carried over an extended period of time. I’ve become convinced that there are certain things you must learn to avoid if you’re going to last in ministry. Allow me to illustrate.
My last church was a recovery church. My heart’s burden was to see every person who passed through those doors experience deliverance from the devastating effects of drug addiction and alcoholism. Such a ministry can be very emotionally frustrating, especially when there are families with young children involved, and the addict continues to relapse. One such case involved a woman who had recently lost her husband and daughter to a tragic accident and had just checked herself out of recovery in the middle of her program.
The future of her young sons hung in the balance as her church support team sat around a dining table to counsel her. It became pretty clear, after listening to how she was going to “work out” her own sobriety program, that every person sitting around that table was more committed to her success than she was.
I finally said, “it’s clear to me this isn’t going to work. We can’t care more about your sobriety than you do. When that changes, let us know. For now, we need to step aside and let you do what you’ve already determined you’re going to do.”
There’s a limit to how much we can and should try to help those who fail to see their own need. When you’re in the caring business, you often have to put a check on your compassion. You can’t care more than the ones you’re trying to help. If you do, you’ll burn out on the wrong people, on the ones that can’t be helped, and you’ll have nothing left for the others.
This is God’s dilemma, as well. He cares for each of us more than we care for ourselves. But just like my alcoholic friend, we rebuff His care when we should welcome it. We do this because we don’t really want to be delivered from our destructive behaviors, from our addictions. So we reject His role in our recovery. We assure Him we’ll do just fine handling it our way. And God, being as wise as He is compassionate, steps aside.
I recently asked a large group of young people at a drug and alcohol rehab center who it was that said "no" to their addictive behavior. The answer for most was a parent. When I asked them which "no" made them most angry, the consensus was the refusal to bail them out of jail. I then asked how this refusal made them feel. They were anger, they were outraged, they responded with resentment and outbursts of profanity, they ranted, they raved, and they made every effort to shame and guilt their uncooperative parents.
When asked if they now understood why it was important that their parents allowed them to suffer the consequences of their poor choices, to a person they said they did. Finally, I asked a question that seemed to surprise them. "Have you thanked your parents for saying no?" Not one of them had.
Clearly, these young people had failed to appreciate the terrible position in which they had placed their parents. What a nightmare for these parents to have to choose between helping their child, or refusing their pleas in the hopes that the pain might work to their good. What a terrible choice for a parent to have to make.
Here is where this lesson convicted me. Although I have never put my earthly parents in such a situation, I have forced my heavenly Father to make a terrible choice. Because of my stubborn disobedience, He had to choose between me and His Son. When Jesus cried out in the garden, "take this cup from me," the Father had to choose, He couldn't say "yes" to Jesus and "yes" to us.
Do you recognize that it was your actions that put Him in that terrible situation? Have you thanked your heavenly Father for saying "no" to His Son so that He could say "yes" to you?
""Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done" (Luke 22:42).
Mitchell Dillon, founder of Illustration Exchange
Years ago, an alcoholic sent famed advice columnist Ann Landers the follow message:
The temptations of life deliver exactly the opposite of what they promise. Jesus, on the other hand, delivers more than promised, more than what we are able to comprehend.
"However, as it is written: "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him" (1 Corinthians 2:9).