“I’m not leaving, I’m going.”
Such a small phrase but it packs a huge punch. It was posted on the weekend by an account I follow on Instagram #raisedtostay. The timing of her post and the impact it had on me were profound.
You see, we were just about to exit the church we had called home for almost seven years. We had spent many of those years in leadership including three years where I was on staff. The transition out was not easy.
This is a difficult blog to write because the truth is, transitioning well out of a church family is a tough journey. I want to be honest with my words, but respectful at the same time.
I have seen so many people leave a church with their bat and ball in hand, off to find someone else to play with. They get offended or disillusioned for all sorts of reasons and then just leave without explanation or a backward glance. This is not only hurtful but incredibly disrespectful to people who have more than likely invested in them. The problem with doing this is, they take their offence with them and so when the next person at the next place hurts or disagrees with them, they leave again and continue to carry their baggage with them until they either deal with its weight or get crushed under it. Both options are going to be painful, so you might as well deal with it instead of being destroyed by it.
Please don’t get me wrong. I am not minimising genuine church hurt. I know and have seen genuine hurt from both sides of the pulpit. None of us is immune. I also know how easy it is for hurt to become offence if it’s not dealt with. And I’m not talking here about spiritual abuse, which is also real but is often confused with church hurt. Genuine spiritual abuse is a serious issue and must be managed accordingly. Sometimes it’s hard to know the difference.
And here’s where I come to leaving or going. You can leave in your offence, or you can go in your healing.
Can I be honest and say that in the sixteen months between coming off staff and exiting the church, I could have so easily taken my bat and ball and gone home. It was for the most part a lonely transition. I found that people typically don’t know how to deal with someone whose position has changed suddenly. I didn’t even know how to deal with it. How could I expect others to walk with me on a journey none of them had ever walked? How could I expect them to know the grief and the burnout I felt. How could I expect them to understand the loss of identity when you have poured your heart and soul, and sacrificed your own time and family 24 hours a day, 7 days a week caring for others to then sit in the congregation with nothing to do? How could I expect them to understand how it feels to see that life goes on for everyone else while you feel like you’ve suddenly become invisible?
I couldn’t expect them to. But I did.
Until one day when I was confiding in a good friend, ok, venting… I was venting. And she gently helped me see that no one could understand how I was feeling, because they hadn’t been where I was.
When I first joined the staff, I asked someone, ‘who pastors the pastors?’ They told me that when you get to that level of leadership, you need to learn to minister to yourself. I didn’t know how to do that. So, when the phone calls didn’t come and when people didn’t act the way I wanted them to, I didn’t know what to do. I got hurt, then I got mad, then I got offended. Or, as John Bevere puts it, I took the bait of satan. It could have ended really badly.
I’m so grateful for my wise friend who helped me put things into perspective. Then God in His infinite mercy took me through a (long) process of healing to the point where I was comfortable sitting in the congregation with nothing to do. I softened my heart, and relationships were restored. And it was then that I was ready to ‘go’.
We knew we had been called to another church in another town, but it was six months after hearing from God that we were to move on before we actually exited. Because I needed to not leave with angst, I needed to go with freedom. Enter #raisedtostay’s post. As I said in the opening, it was truly profound. In it she writes “I wonder if some of us are afraid to go into the unknown because we’ve worked so hard and so long to be here. We’re afraid to lose status, our reputation, but it’s all meaningless if it’s not where God wants us.
Going isn’t quitting or abandoning anything. It’s letting go of something that was good to grab hold of God’s best.
And though it’s terrifying to let go its exhilarating to see what He has waiting on the other side of obedience.”
BAM.
And just like that, there was the confirmation I needed.
We had spoken to and been released by our senior pastor, and we knew we were being led by God but there was still a sense of abandoning ship, so the day before our final Sunday, this was exactly what I needed to hear.
It was okay to go.
I didn’t leave, I went. I went to go where God is leading me.
I didn’t burn bridges, I mended them. And I’m grateful to say, I exited well.
Let love and faithfulness never leave you; bind them around your neck, write them on the tablet of your heart. Then you will win favour and a good name in the sight of God and man.” Proverbs 3:3-4
Bring on the next season!