Blessed to Be Burden-Bearers
By Glenna Marshall
We had a tough week of ministry last week. Two different church members had adult children pass away quite suddenly, one right after the other. Additionally, one of my husband’s best friends, a fellow pastor, lost twin daughters. My husband preached what was probably the most difficult funeral of his ministry. Our other pastor lost his mother-in-law just this morning. It was a discouraging week with so much grief and loss in the lives of people we love. I prayed more than usual and cried each time the phone rang with hard news. And in the midst of it, I had the thought—“This is the hard and good part of ministry. Burden-bearing.”
Think about it for a moment. In ministry, we get to walk through people’s worst and best days of life with them. Weddings, births, illnesses, doubts, losses, deaths. We’re there for much of it because our husbands are shepherding church members through those pivotal moments of life—and death. When my husband first became a full-time pastor, we’d been married just two years, and I often felt a little resentful of the late-night hospital visits that pulled my husband away from me. But over the years, I took some time to accompany him on those visits when I could, and my perspective changed. I saw the weight of hope and despair in hospital rooms, witnessed the brokenness of marriages and wayward children in living rooms, and heard many tearful confessions in the church parking lot after services. I’ve even stepped in a few times for my husband when he was out of town. I’ve raced to the hospital to be with a church member in an emergency, and I’ve welcomed a grieving parent into my living room at midnight. I’m not always good in a crisis the way my husband is, but it’s no small thing to join in someone’s suffering. Sitting with someone in silence and prayer is exactly what they need.
After nearly two decades of walking with church members through the most memorable moments of their lives, I’ve come to believe that it is an honor to be a burden-bearer. Even when ministry has been tense because of criticism or misunderstandings, we can put those things aside in a moment of crisis and just be present with our people. Presence is what they need from us. It’s what lifts a tiny corner of their heavy burdens and takes a bit of weight off their shoulders. Presence. In their living room, in a hospital room, next to their car in the church parking lot. I often think of Job’s friends before they turned on him. They sat in silence with him for a week. Just sat there with him. (If only they’d kept their mouths shut after that week was up!) When I’ve walked through my own trials, it isn’t Christian platitudes that help. It’s presence. Remind me I’m not alone. Remind me that you’re with me. Remind me that the Lord is with me and won’t ever leave. We might think that what our church families need from us is a tritely quoted Scripture to put a shine on a difficult trial, but what really helps them bear the burden is sharing the burden. And sharing burdens looks like showing up.
If you’re not in a place to show up physically for your church family in times of crisis, there is still much you can do to help bear their burdens. Prayer is perhaps most important. Now, you won’t get a bunch of Facebook likes for faithfully praying for your people, but the unseen ministry of prayer is vital. Pray for your husband as he ministers—that he’ll have wisdom to know how to respond, care, and love when on pastoral calls. Pray for his protection. I’ll never forget the time my husband was called to a suicide watch. Thankfully, the local police were also involved, but as I prayed for the person struggling mightily with their mental health, I also prayed for my husband’s protection in the process. It’s no small thing to intercede for your husband as he shepherds the flock in crisis. Be sure to tell him before he leaves for a pastoral visit that you’re praying for him.
But also, pray for your church members. Make it a habit to pray regularly for your people, as it will cultivate genuine love and concern in your heart for the body. But in times of crisis, you can be a burden-bearer by setting time aside to pray for your hurting church family. Tell your people you’re praying but be sure to follow through with actually praying. You may not be able to rush off to the hospital because you have young kids at home, but you can pray. You may not be able to visit someone at their home during the day because of your job, but you can pray. You may not be able to drop off a casserole or pot of soup because your health isn’t great, but you can pray. And prayer is no small thing. Interceding for your church is a sacrifice of time that is never wasted. Prayer is a way you can show up spiritually when you can’t show up physically. Prayer can help you be a burden-bearer when your people are hurting and grieving.
My years as a pastor’s wife have changed me, thankfully. The Lord has helped me to see that our life in ministry has blessed us to be in a position to care for people in the hardest moments of their lives. That’s a privilege, honestly. To be swept up in the pain of our church members is hard—there can be weeks when grief piles up so heavily, we’re not sure what to say. And yet, it is a gift to hold vigil in the sacred moments of life and death with people we love. We can sit in silence and pray for Christ to uphold them, knowing He will. We can weep with those who weep, knowing Jesus is well-acquainted with grief. We can assure them of God’s love for them when they doubt it, knowing He has loved them with an everlasting love. What a gift to be the ones who sit and pray and hold on to hope. We are blessed to be burden-bearers.
Glenna Marshall is married to her pastor, William, and lives in rural Southeast Missouri where she tries and fails to keep up with her two energetic sons. She is the author of The Promise is His Presence: Why God is Always Enough (P&R) and Everyday Faithfulness: The Beauty of Ordinary Perseverance in a Demanding World (Crossway, June 2020).