This one goes out to all my brother-pastors who find yourselves, for whatever reason, searching for your next ministry assignment. Due to unforeseen circumstances, the author of this post finds himself right there with you. I trust we are good company for one another.
Regardless of where you are in your search (and depending on the circumstances that led to your search), you have likely experienced the full range of emotions, from excited anticipation about what’s next to a gripping fear that you’ll never get there. Personally, these days I’m especially grateful that the Lord gave us the Psalms through which I can share the Psalmist’s praises and his confidence in the Lord, but also in his lament and verbalized uncertainties.
To be caught between what was and what will be grates against our sensibilities, in part because our pride demands that every step of our journey be accompanied by great clarity and confidence. But this is not the way of faith; no, the way of faith brings us low, not necessarily granting us eyes to see what’s around the corner, but to see the One from whom nothing is hidden.
So as you and I wait, what ought we do in the meantime?
Waiting can leave you feeling a bit like a fool—out on a limb, hoping for rescue before the splintering starts. Each time your phone vibrates or a call comes from an unknown number, immediately you wonder if it might be the contact you’ve been waiting for. It leaves you a bit like Charlie Bucket opening up that next Wonka bar in hopes of finding a golden ticket, only to realize the email was just another LinkedIn update. Disappointment and discouragement set in.
Will it ever happen? Is something wrong with me? Did I miss the Lord’s will somewhere along the way? The questions rush in and patience grows thin. Still, be patient; the Lord will not withhold the good He has planned for his children. As Romans 8:32 tells us, “He did not even spare his own Son but offered him up for us all. How will he not also with him grant us everything?” Rest patiently in his good promises.
Where are you now? I mean, physically, where are you now? Where do you live? What church are you serving—either as a pastor or member? Wherever that is, be faithful there while you wait. In Acts 17, Paul referred to the Lord’s providential work in placing each of us exactly where we are, even at this very moment. “From one man,” Paul preached, “he has made every nationality to live over the whole earth and has determined their appointed times and the boundaries of where they live.” In other words, the Lord knew you would be right where you are and how long you are to be there.
Yes, this may be a season of transition; but honor the Lord by remaining faithful where you are for as long as he would have you wait. Don’t shortchange the people near you by constantly looking over or around them for the next thing.
Prayer is an excellent calibrator. In seasons of waiting, we have a tendency to be sillier than usual. Like Abram and Sarai (Gen 16), we attempt to concoct our own solutions in order to help out the Creator of the heavens and earth with his plans. Because He surely needs it, right?
The very nature of prayer focuses our attention upon who we are and who God is. Each prayer serves as a confession that we don’t know all there is to know, can’t do all there is to do, and that we are not in control; our knowledge and power are woefully insufficient. Simultaneously, in prayer we recognize that God does not suffer such limitations. His knowledge and power are inexhaustible, as are his other attributes; and he is faithful and true. Prayer recalibrates and stabilizes us by reminding us that we are the needy dependents, and He is the great Provider.
A season of waiting can be fertile soil for fear and uncertainty. When there’s no end in sight, doubt creeps in, you grow weary of waiting, and (to borrow a line from King David), you ask, “How long, O Lord? How long?”
But let us not forget the oft-repeated command of Scripture during this time: Don’t be afraid. Oh, how easy it is to look at our seemingly impossible situation and devolve into fear and trepidation. But how gracious our Lord is to us, who “knows our frame; he remembers that we are dust” (Psalm 103:14, CSB), and, coupled with the command not to be afraid, he has promised to be with us and never forsake us. May we never believe his apparent silence or assumed inactivity means His absence. He is with us and he is working all things to the pleasure of his good will, so be of good courage.
As much as we might hate it, waiting is good for us. It takes us by the hand and walks us into deeper dependence on and satisfaction in our Lord. The ministry the Lord has next for us is a gracious gift, yet even it cannot satisfy our deepest need. So remember, even now—in the middle, while we wait—you and I have all we need in our Savior, and we will be better pastors for the waiting.