Contentment in a Difficult Ministry
Glenna Marshall
My husband and I just celebrated sixteen years of pastoral ministry in our church. Now that we’re in our forties, it’s hard to fathom those young kids that packed up their lives and moved to this state, this town, and this church so long ago. In truth, we’ve grown up in our ministry here. Had I known on our first Sunday what the years would hold, I would have run for the exit. Had I known that God would call us to stay through years of suffering and difficulty, I think I would have despaired.
Thankfully, we don’t know what our ministry will be like when we first arrive. It wouldn’t help us to see the future, and wherever God has placed us, He has called us to faithfulness and nothing more. There were many times during the dark years of our ministry when I longed for a different set of circumstances. I wanted a larger church, a different church, a kinder church, a more generous church, a more respectful church, a more effective church. But if the Lord had moved us to any other circumstance, I’d have had a similar list because my contentment hinged upon my circumstances. Contentment must be tethered to Christ, or else we’ll always be hoping for bigger, better, or just different. That’s true in both ministry and life, and it’s especially true in ministry life. When Paul wrote about contentment in Philippians 4, he noted that contentment was possible in every imaginable scenario because contentment was found in Christ:
“Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through Him who strengthens me” (Phil. 4: 11-13).
You can suffer and still have Christ. You can hurt and still have Christ. You can be humiliated and still have Christ. You can be hungry or thirsty or financially tight and still have Christ. You can be betrayed by others and still have Christ. No one can take you from Christ, and no one can take Him from you (see Romans 8:35-39). Your ministry can implode, and you can still have Christ. Your husband could be fired, but you will still have Christ. You could be slandered, but you will still have Christ. In every possible church circumstance, you still have Jesus, and if He is your joy, your mainstay, your reason for keeping one foot in front of the other, you can be content in your church circumstances. Elisabeth Elliot said it so aptly: “The secret is Christ in me, not me in a different set of circumstances.”
In 1 Corinthians 7, Paul speaks to those who are single, married, widowed, and bound as slaves in service about their life circumstances. He urges people in all kinds of stations in life to understand that changed circumstances will not make them more effective for the kingdom (see 1 Cor. 7:17-24). God appointed their time, their life position, their status, and He would use them in whatever position they were in to advance His kingdom and sanctify them in the process. I think about the many times I longed for a different ministry, and I now know that the discontent in my heart would travel with me to the next place we served. In God’s kindness, He called us to stay and in that calling, I had to grapple with the lie that I would be different in different circumstances. I wouldn’t be different unless God changed my heart. And that’s what He’s always after, isn’t it? Not changed circumstances but a changed heart. He’s always after our hearts. And perhaps He will use a difficult ministry to go after yours.
Our church members might think that we, the ministry family, come with all the answers and the lessons in godliness and holy living that they need. But truthfully, though God uses our ministry to serve and care for others, I think He also uses our ministries to sanctify us. He teaches us what perseverance is, what faithfulness looks like, how sacrificial love is displayed. And sometimes, if He lets us tarry in one place long enough, He lets us see the fruit of slow-growing contentment.
Today, I opened my home to a group of women from church for our weekly women’s Bible study, and with great joy I looked around the table at the different women from many different walks of life. They talked, laughed, cried, dug into the Scriptures, asked questions, encouraged one another. It was beautiful. It was something I longed to see in my church for years. And it took nearly twenty years before my hope for ministry came to fruition.
Ministry isn’t a race. It’s not a sprint through a few tough Sundays and a fast-approaching finish line where we bask in the glow of our successes. No, ministry is life of slow plodding in quiet faithfulness, trusting Jesus for every step. Ministry involves dying to your dreams, standing firm through trials, and entrusting every endeavor to Christ. It’s loving when you aren’t loved back, serving when you’re slandered, praying when you’re wounded, encouraging when you’re weary. But, oh, the contentment that Christ can teach you when you keep slogging through. Whether or not your ministry improves, whether or not the Lord moves you to another church, whether or not you ever see “success” by earthly standards, know that the calling God has placed on your life as a family is a good one. He loves you, He is with you, and He is sanctifying you. If your joy is anchored in Jesus, you’ll find that He never disappoints.
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).