Serving When You're Lonely
By Glenna Marshall
One Saturday last year, I had the pleasure of attending a gathering for pastors’ wives. Though I’ve been a ministry wife for almost twenty years, I was the youngest woman in the room. I hoped to glean some encouragement from the more seasoned wives seated around the table. As the women took turns introducing themselves and giving brief accounts of their years in church ministry, I noticed both an immediate spirit of camaraderie and a desperation to feel safe in that room. Without exception, every woman in the room teared up as she shared about her husband’s ministry. Some told stories of betrayal by women to whom they’d invested years of relationship and prayer; others were still broken by how hard their early years at their church had been. They were quick to say how much they loved being in ministry, but they were equally quick to express how hard it has been. Long-held emotions seeped down wrinkled faces, smudging glasses and soaking a stack of tissues.
Some of these women had been in ministry longer than I’ve been alive, and I was caught off guard by the grief of deep-seated loneliness in so many women for such a long time. It was clear to me that they loved Jesus and His church, but every woman in the room had resigned herself to a life of loneliness. I understand that sentiment, for I too have accepted the blessings and sufferings of ministry. The rewards of serving Christ and His bride are eternal, but they are not without cost.
As a pastors’ wife, I’ve longed for deep relationships in ministry. Often, what I have perceived to be friendships turned out to be mediums for lodging complaints to and about my husband (and me, at times). I’ve had more than one friend turn her back on our church—and me by extension. I remember one particularly bad stretch in our ministry when I needed a babysitter so my husband and I could meet with some folks who were leaving the church. I literally could not think of one safe person to call. I laid in bed that night with tears soaking my pillowcase as I tried to decide if I should ask my parents or in-laws to drive a few hours across state lines to babysit. I’ve felt isolated when we aren’t invited to go and do things with church members because we can’t afford to tag along on expensive outings. I have experienced exclusion from certain events or get-togethers because our mere presence brings some kind of discomfort to others. I bet some of you are nodding along as you read this. It’s a peculiar kind of loneliness that we find in ministry life.
There is a certain extent to which you can be sure that ministry will be lonely. And yet, I think most of us in ministry don’t necessarily want to quit because of that loneliness. I truly don’t want my husband to step away from ministry; I love that we get to serve the Lord in the local church. The joys of ministry outweigh the wounds. But the wounds do hurt. So, how do we serve Christ when we feel that persistent ache for friendship? Here are some things I’ve learned in my own ministry as well as from other, more experienced pastors’ wives.
Pray for a friend for this season of ministry.
I’ve had several “safe” friendships (from both inside and outside the church) during different points in our ministry. Each of these in-person friendships have been cut short by moves to different states or cities, yet they came at just the right time when I was drowning in loneliness and desperate for someone to talk to. I prayed for safe friends, and the Lord answered. Would I have liked for those relationships to continue indefinitely in-person? Of course! But, the Lord ministered to me through those friendships at the times I needed them most. He provided encouragement through their words and presence, and I can now see them for the gifts they were at the time. We may not all get lifelong, in-person friendships in ministry. But we can pray for friends in specific seasons and thank the Lord when He answers those prayers. There may be someone in your church right now who can meet that need for this season. Pray that the Lord would make that clear.
Invest in the friendship in your marriage.
No one understands your loneliness in ministry like your partner in ministry. No matter what’s going on in your church, you and your spouse are on the same team. While my husband can’t fulfill every need I have (nor I for him), we must seek to be for one another. Your marriage might be the only place you can speak freely, grieve openly, and be yourself without recrimination. When you are feeling lonely, consider the last time you and your husband took a walk together or shared a conversation over coffee without distractions. If you haven’t had time for a good heart-to-heart, consider what you might do to make that happen on a more regular basis. Pray daily for your husband and ask him to pray for you. Pray together. Seek to make your home a respite for your souls. You are gifts to one another.
Befriend other ministry wives.
When I sat around that table last year with all those pastors’ wives, I felt a kinship with them. Though we might come from different backgrounds and methods of ministry, we are all carrying a similar load. Looking to some sisters in ministry might be an encouraging way for you to forge safe friendships. While we must be careful not to speak poorly of our churches, we can still share the state of our hearts with women who understand. Does your denomination have some kind of regional association? Is there a meeting for local pastors’ wives in your area? If not, maybe you can start one. Look for potential relationships with women in your area who are living the ministry life like you.
Look to Jesus.
One of the gifts of Jesus’ sacrifice at the cross is the promise of God’s persistent presence. In Hebrews 10, we see the free access we have to God because of Jesus’ death and resurrection. As believers, the Holy Spirit lives in us at all times. There is never a time when we are truly alone. The gift of God’s presence is one we often overlook, but it is something He regularly promised throughout the whole story of Scripture. He went to great lengths to keep that promise. His presence means something! When we are struggling with loneliness, we can look to our Savior who can truly carry the weight of our heart’s sorrows. He walked this earth in ministry; He knows what it is to be lonely and rejected. We can turn our hearts to Him, seeking Him in His Word and pouring out our loneliness to Him in prayer. When we draw near to Him, we will know more confidently that He will never leave us.
We make sacrifices in the Christian life, and though they can be costly, they aren’t even comparable with the glory of knowing Christ in His sufferings. In ministry, we may at times make more sacrifices that those around us. We can rejoice in these sufferings, not living as “victims,” but looking at how the Lord has seen fit to stretch and grow our faith. We lean harder on the Lord when we are lonely, and perhaps that is His gift to us in this season: more dependence upon Him.
Is it hard? Absolutely. Is it worth it to forsake the comforts of earth in order to know Christ more? Undeniably. Does the Lord see and know our hearts? Unquestionably, He does—with compassion and steadfast love. You may have seasons when you feel especially lonely in ministry, but sister, you are never truly alone. Human relationships might ebb and flow, but Christ is ever true.
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).