Life a Million Pounds Lighter

When the Thing We Love Becomes the Thing We Need to Leave

“I like talking about you, you, you, you usually
But occasionally, I wanna talk about me”

Toby Keith

In almost all of the articles I’ve written, I rarely use the words “I'“ or “me”, because the focus is you. Walking alongside you in this life of divorce you never asked for and being a voice of hope. It’s a privilege.

I’ve been told not to write about myself. But for this piece

“I wanna talk about me, wanna talk about I
Wanna talk about number one, oh my, me my.”

Not sure why I’m on this Toby Keith kick right now, but don’t deny the urge to line dance if you feel led! I don’t even like country music!!!

I have seasons of silence on Substack for some reason. The first being when my dad came down with an aggressive form of liver cancer and passed away within three months of being diagnosed. We were in the middle of a move. He never got to see my house. I wished I could’ve had one more conversation with him.

Recently, I’ve come out of a season of painful clarity. One of those “You know what you need to do but aren’t doing it” seasons. Ministry has been my life for as long as I can remember. Even more, I’ve only ever been apart of one denomination. Who knew there were more Christians out there besides the Assemblies of God?! Oops, I just admitted to being Pentecostal. But I promise I’m not one of those weird ones, I gave up handling snakes weeks ago. Thank God for antivenom.

Here’s the problem: my wife likes cruises. I’ve never been on one. Not a fan of the ocean. Montana suits me just fine. She upped and booked one for our five year anniversary. Apparently she’s never seen the Titanic. But we saw a piece of it on our honeymoon in Vegas! That should’ve been a sign!!

She likes roller coasters. I’m scared of heights.

She likes traveling. I’m scared to leave the church for a week.

This past summer she booked us an actual vacation. A mini one to a water park. She even scheduled it between Sundays so I wouldn’t miss one. A beautiful, miniature blended family vacation. Didn’t think about the church once. Best vacation ever.

I used to hate vacations. Not because they were only ever used to visit family, but because of the knots I couldn’t undo thinking about what crazy church crisis would crash down on me while I was gone. I couldn’t release my mind from the church. I don’t remember a single one where I didn’t have to email, text, or call someone about some “emergency” at the church. I was tethered to it, dreading the fallout upon returning.

Church used to be all I ever thought about or talked about. I loved being a pastor, but complained about it all the time. I loved people in the church, but hated its politics. I loved talking with my pastor friends about our shared frustrations in ministry while silently comparing myself to them. I lived for Sundays and dreaded Tuesdays. I loved the dreams of ministry while being beaten up by its realities.

Did I mention my wife is a true-crimer? These people actually exist. She’s a multitasker who does her accounting wizardry while voluntarily listening to legal gladiators battle it out in court. Then she tells me all about it as though I’ve been on the edge of my seat all day waiting to hear what tantalizing details emerge. Truth is, it’s pretty interesting stuff. Before I know it, I’m not even thinking about my day at the church and who’s expectations I fell far below.

I’ve been jealous of my wife for a long time. Not because she’s prettier than me, but because she’s an accountant. There’s no guess work. When it comes to numbers, your opinion doesn’t matter. Either the books balance or they don’t. She isn’t judged by how fancy her spreadsheets are, but by how accurate they are.

Pastoring, without a doubt is one of the most subjective jobs you will ever have. Everybody has an opinion of what you should be doing and how you should be doing it. And when say ‘Everybody”, I mean all y’all. Success looks different depending on what lens it’s being seen through. Every Sunday is ‘Take Your Family to Work Day.” You’re a human complaint box. EVERYTHING is personal. It’s one of the few professions where a divorce derails your career. You’re never ‘off’.

It amazes me the price some will pay because of a ‘call’. Let’s be clear. Your mental health isn’t worth sacrificing for a ‘call’. I’ve come across too many pastors burnout and bitter because they were afraid to leave the ministry. On one hand your trying to save the world. On the other, you’re losing yourself. Saving the world is addicting. Growing a church is a straight shot of adrenaline that you never want to end. But it will end you before you see it’s side-effects.

Or, as in my case, you watch your church shrink for four years and so much of your value as a person is tied to that. You’re in trouble when your identity is attached to how many seats are filled on a Sunday.

Leo picked me. I don’t like cats. Out of all the humans in our house to choose from, our cat picked the least willing. My wife cannot handle it so we’re looking for a therapist who specializes in feline rejection. She has worked so hard to earn his love and yet he scampers across her and onto my chest everyday. Once he nestles down, he stares at her. And I pay dearly for it. She longs for the affection of our cat. It’s just a cat…but that purring is starting to get to me.

I submitted my resignation letter to my board a few weeks ago. I’ve loved my church and its people. My board has been great to me. But after I hit send, a million pounds came off of me. I didn’t realize how heavy it had become. Hitting send was the scariest thing I’ve done in a long time, because we’re truly living by faith right now not knowing what the next step is. I just know it’s not pastoring. This last year has been filled with massive internal tension, but even as I write this, there’s this sweet release into peace. My wife should be panicking. She’s not. Our life is in the Lord’s hands.

For too long I held on to something that felt too important to let go of. But in letting go, I’m finding what’s truly important. The church I just resigned from: they’re gonna be just fine. Probably better. It’s God’s church anyway. My focus moving forward is making as many memories as I can with those I love most. My wife likes having her husband back.

So we’re going on a cruise. Booking that was a step of faith. My wife has an app counting down the days till our cruise begins. Everyday she’s asking me questions about different things we want to do. I think we’re just floating on a boat and eating food. Apparently it’s much more than that. She got us outfits…and we’re snorkeling. But I like the way it makes her smile.

My focus was on pastoring a healthy church and now it’s gonna be spent on true crime, cats, the Seahawks, teaching my daughter guitar, getting my youngest son the mental health care he needs, house projects, personal growth, loving my wife better, attending a church, getting my dog to stop eating socks, finding a different career path, and learning to be a better dad in a blended family.

My wife has taught me a lot about life, and I’m a better man because of it.

We’re walking out our faith in a way I never imagined, but it feels so much lighter.

Peace,

Dave.