Twenty-something months into pastoring through this pandemic on a Thursday afternoon I had to reckon with the thought, “I don’t want to do this anymore.” I don’t want to be a pastor anymore. In 18 years of vocational ministry and nearly 8 years as pastor here, there have been times of burnout and leading from a place of emptiness. But this was different. This had been a season where every decision feels like a bad one and the Church seems divided on every issue imaginable. I wanted out. If “bearing with one another in love” met “seventy times seven,” I felt like I had reached the tipping point. I was done. It wasn’t one thing in particular. It’s the endless drip, drip, drip that had finally worn me down.
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  • Love
  • Church
  • Iss
  • Twenty Something
  • Pastoring
  • Pandemic
  • Thursday
  • Afternoon
  • Vocational
  • Ministry
  • Emptiness