Standing in the Rain (by Kelly Edmiston)

Standing in the Rain (by Kelly Edmiston) July 1, 2015

Screen Shot 2015-05-21 at 8.09.51 PMI sit on a bench this warm summer day, watching as the sun glistens on the lake making crystals dance in a glorious ballet. The sparkle is so bright that I have to shield my eyes from its splendor. I hear the wind whistle through the trees, rustling the branches just enough to spill leaves onto the lake below. The leaves disrupt the calm of the water and cause small waves to cascade back and forth from bank to bank. The birds begin to chirp as I sway to nature’s rhythmic song.

Suddenly, I am interrupted. Plop. Plop. Plop. Then Pit. Pat. Pit. Pat. Pit. Pat. The falling rain makes deep and wide circular formations in the lake. An intoxicating freshness fills the air. Familiar with nature’s song, I graciously anticipate getting soaked by the fresh raindrops.

I look up and see an old oak tree, its branches extending far and wide over the little bench where I’m sitting. From afar, I can see the rain over there. But I am over here, under the branches of the oak, left dry. Bone dry.

This is how I’d describe pastoral burnout and depression. When we get bone dry. Many of us, perhaps especially those of us who have been in ministry for a decade or more, know the experience of sitting in the rain but not feeling it’s touch. We sit with people through the most defining and sacred moments of their lives but like watching rain on the lake, we are merely onlookers while those around us get soaked. We never actually feel the drops on our own skin.

Perhaps the weight of human emotion is too much to bear continually. We find ourselves in a paralyzing place with too many needs, questions and expectations.

I do not pretend to fully understand the battle of clinical depression, having only struggled with circumstantial depression and anxiety. But I am aware that depression prevents people from experiencing the rain in the same way the branches over my little bench kept me dry.

The images used to describe depression give voice to its inescapable characteristics. It has been called a time-defying sadness. And depression has been likened to a cloud that follows its victim wherever they go.

To these images, I add branches. With every petition to be keep personal opinions quiet, every heart-breaking character critique, every hushed conversation silenced as you walk by, the branches reach farther out and grow thicker until all you see and all you know is the branches and the bench.

These branches-this depression- recently consumed one of our beloved community pastors. He pastored a church of thousands in an affluent suburb and in his more than 40-year career became known nationwide as an influential leader in his denomination.  He was a father, grandfather, husband and friend to many.

Each day on my way to work I drive by his church and am reminded of the remarkably high number of pastors who struggle with pastoral burnout and depression.

According to the Schaeffer Institute:

  • 70 percent of pastors constantly fight depression
  • 71 percent are burned out
  • 72 percent of pastors say they only study the bible when they are preparing for a sermon
  • 80 percent believe pastoral ministry has negatively affected their families
  • 70 percent say they do not have a close friend[1]

Maybe this man who took his own life got stuck under the branches. Maybe they closed in on him until he could not move. Maybe they were branches of loneliness, fear and exhaustion. Maybe they were branches of critics and fans. Maybe they were pressure branches stemming from pastoring people who you will not ever be able to please fully.

Quite possibly, he was just tired of fighting. Fighting branches can be exhausting, especially when you long for the rain.

I wish this pastor had asked for help one more time. I wish a friend had come barreling through the branches, axe in hand, and carried him from the bench against his will. Into the rain. I wish that being a pastor did not make being pastored so difficult. I wish that pastors had the healthiest and happiest families. I wish that all pastors were part of communities interested as much in their pastor’s spiritual and emotional well being as they are in their level of productivity and ability to crowd-please.

In light of this tragic event, I sat around a table with our ministry staff and heard these words from our Senior Pastor:

“We are not a ‘from you’ culture. We are a ‘for you’ culture.”

 He was pleading with us on ministry staff to care for our souls. He was encouraging us not to let any form of depression go unnoticed or undiagnosed.

So when the branches get thick and threaten to close in, call for help.

And join me. I’ll be standing in the rain.

By Kelly Edmiston, the Youth and Family Minister at the First Colony Church of Christ in Sugar Land, Tx

Find her blogging at www.brophytwinspeak.com

[1] http://www.intothyword.org/apps/articles/?articleid=36562

 

 


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