It's Hard When Friends Leave

I never knew what happened. Somewhere in the transition from being friends planting a church together to me being the pastor’s wife, our friendship was lost.

We had started off with a church planting team full of close friends. It was exciting and God was doing good things. This was wonderful, having team members who already cared about us and our family, who loved us and supported us in prayer.  And then, down the road, after ministering together, praying together and growing together, some friends left.  It may have been because the church didn’t look like they thought it would. It may have been a difference of opinion in how a church should function or maybe just the romance of church planting had worn off. It may have been something we did that caused hurt or offense. I don’t understand why this happens, but it seems to be a common story. Has this ever happened to you?

Maybe you have never planted a church, but if you pastor a church, you know what I mean and you probably have a story or two yourself. Friends leave.  They may have good reasons for leaving and they may have terrible reasons for leaving. They may leave for a reason that you will never even know, but it will still result in the loss of a friendship.

At that point, it is not really about the church anymore. I mean, we all know that people will leave. None of us is so naive as to think that everyone who attends our church will stay forever. Close friends are different though, and it hurts, especially if it is a bad breakup. Whether the reason for leaving is bad or good, it leaves a wound behind.

So what do we do? I think we mourn for a while, perhaps a long while if needed. We ask God to dress our wound. We process, we pray, and time goes by.

And you know what we don’t do? We don’t write that person off. We don’t forget all the good that existed in that friendship. We don’t subconsciously (or consciously) vow to never open ourselves up to people again.

I have been guilty of this. When my friends left a wake of pain behind them in their leaving, I could not think of anything but that pain. I forgot their support during the church plant, their faithful serving, their prayers and love and the fun times. Don’t do this. It is too easy a pit to fall into and too hard to climb out of. No matter how hurt, how betrayed, how disappointed you feel, do not link that person forever with the pain they caused you. They are more than a cause of pain to you; they are one whom God loves, as much as he loves you. And don’t decide to never have a friend again, because you fear they might hurt you too. Easy for me to say, hmm?

No, not easy, but true. And I want to live in truth, don’t you?

Hey, I need a pastor too.

So, who is my pastor? If you have ever been a pastors’ wife, or a pastor yourself you have probably asked this question.  Maybe you didn’t ask it out loud, maybe you only thought it, but you probably have at least wondered about it.
I think most Christians assume that pastors have some kind of person or group of people that they can go to for personal counsel and advice (This in itself is rarely true, but that is another story). But what about the pastors’ wife?  Should she expect pastoral care from her husband? Is he the best person to pastor her?  

I am not saying that your spouse can’t teach, minister to, pray for and lead you as your pastor. My husband is still my favorite speaker and I have heard him a gazillion times. He still speaks wonderful truth to my soul. He is wise, deep and a great source of spiritual knowledge for me. However, I can remember times when I felt I needed a pastor, but I didn’t want to talk to my husband.  I’m sure many of you have experienced this as well. I wanted  a completely objective person who I didn’t have to live with afterwards.  Maybe your spouse can put aside the fact that he is married to you when you come to him for, well, pastoral advice.  And maybe he can’t.  Or maybe, like me, you just want a different pastor for those times; one you aren’t married to. It can get tricky…

Every ministry couple has their own style of relating to each other and working together within the context of their marriage and church. Some rely on each other for every aspect of their spiritual development and some don’t.  Some pray together daily and some don’t. Some feel that they can talk to each other about anything, and some don’t. There is nothing wrong with needing a person other than your spouse for some kinds of pastoral care.

We need people who can listen well, pray with and for you and then point us to Jesus. We need the care and concern of a friend and sometimes we need practical advice. This can be a hard role for our spouses to fill objectively.  And for many of us, these kinds of people are not plentiful.

If you have one good spiritually mature friend, you are fortunate. If you also have friends who are pastors in other churches, you are even more fortunate.  Nurture these friendships so that you both have someone to talk to when your spouse just isn’t the best choice for the situation.  Making time for these kinds of relationships can easily get put on the back burner. It doesn’t feel as pressing and urgent as so many of the other things we do…until we need that friend, that counsel and support. You are not an island, and you and your spouse together cannot be an island either, even when it may feel like “you and me against the world”. You both need more than just each other.  

It's Tender Underneath

I remember a time when I felt like a tree. Not in a good way, really. I felt as if I were a tree being stripped of my bark with nothing but tender growth underneath. Let me give a little background to this story.

I had been experiencing a wonderful time of closeness and renewal with God. I was feeling His presence, it seemed He was answering my prayers, my husband and children were well and the church was growing and happy. Everything was sweet.  And in that time of sweetness, I asked Jesus to make me more like Him, to change me and refine me and make me into who He really wanted me to be. I prayed that a lot, especially because it was such a sweet time, and I felt so lovey-dovey towards Him.

The sweet time continued for a while and then He decided to really answer my prayer. This is where the tree part comes in. In His gentle but insistent way, He began to reveal my sin to me. Sins like selfishness, pride, self reliance and ingratitude. Not only did He show me these sins, He wanted me to see them, turn from them and to stop doing them.  So much of what He wanted me to get rid of felt like it was a part of who I was. I wasn’t sure I could separate me from my sin. It felt like bark being slowly stripped away from a tree. Layers of my identity, tough and dry, were being peeled back and the tender new growth underneath felt very vulnerable. It didn’t feel very good and I felt a little double-crossed. I had forgotten that I had prayed for personal growth, for His likeness to be formed in me. He was being faithful and I was feeling ill used.  I felt like He had used all the closeness to soften me up so He could tear away parts of me.  I was kind of right.

However, the pain and injury of this process drew me to Him. It could have easily gone the other way. I could have chosen to hold onto my protective bark, or grown more back.  I don’t always cooperate with what He is doing, but that time I did. I told Him “okay”. I struggled a lot. I prayed a lot. I cried and complained and felt sorry for myself at times. And I remembered that really, what He was doing was what I wanted Him to do. That there was nothing more valuable to me than becoming more like Him. Even when it was difficult and made me feel very vulnerable.  And the really surprising thing about that time of stripping and tenderness? It was the sweetest of all.

Let's learn to be honest with each other about the pain and sweetness of this process.  If my story sounds familiar to you, let me know. Tell me about your experience.