This month’s moment is by Alex Deuscher, a City to City church planter in Berlin who cares deeply about spiritual formation and founder of Quiet Heart Journey.
This is a somewhat odd question, I find, and most days, it’s not something I think about. As someone in ministry, my focus is mostly on my plans, hopes, and strategies—the most effective way to reach new people, the best way to set up this ministry, how to deal with the latest crisis. But just recently, I couldn’t escape the question anymore.
To give some context: For the past few years, I have delved deeply into Systems Theory and its application to leadership, faith, and a quiet heart. This stuff has become really meaningful to me. So, when I got invited to lead a small group of people through my learnings, I was very excited. I poured my heart into crafting five great sessions. And what can I say? I thought they went really well, and that everyone received lots of food for personal and spiritual growth. Or so I thought.
But, here’s what happened next. The group got together (without me) to evaluate the sessions, and when I got their feedback, it was absolutely crushing! Those Germans don’t hold back, let me tell you. From what was shared with me, no one got anything out of it. At all. They found the content flat, uninspiring, and unhelpful. Despite my best efforts and many prayers, God didn’t seem to speak to anyone in any way through our times together. I’ve received plenty of bad feedback before, but this one hit hard.
And it stung. For weeks, I carried it in the back of my mind like a dishwasher running in the next room, always making noise, infiltrating my thoughts, influencing my mood. I had countless imaginary conversations with individual members of the group, trying to figure out which malign motives might make them downgrade my work like that. I made grand plans to redo the workshop, become super famous for it, and someday show them how blind they were to the gold I’d offered. I also prayed about it repeatedly, giving it to God over and over and over again. Nothing helped. It was still there.
Here is what I know by now: This experience has great potential to shape who I am becoming. Not consciously, of course, but subconsciously. Because eventually, the noise in my head will fade. If I try to move on, keep my phone close to distract myself whenever unpleasant thoughts come up, and just focus on what’s next, I’ll be “fine” again soon enough.
But if that’s the route I’m taking, it will be horrible for my soul – and, in turn, for my leadership … because I would simply be pushing the pain deeper underneath the surface and allowing it to drive me subconsciously from here on out. It would keep me slightly uneasy, always feeling the need to prove that I have lots of great wisdom to offer, and therefore charge every workshop and sermon with way more significance than they actually have. This in turn would make me work extra hard, be extra focused, and thus not be present with my kids or the people I’m currently around. Every morning, I would be tempted to check how many people have signed up for my stuff, how many downloads my sermons had, or how intensely others might be experiencing God on my retreats. The pressure would be on! In other words, if left unaddressed, I will become more driven, tense, affirmation-seeking, and critical – it’s not a pretty picture.
But here is what I’ve felt God gently reminding me of over the past few weeks: my ministry “successes” and fruitfulness are not his primary goals for me. In fact, His definition of fruitfulness is quite different from ours. Think about it: God apparently found it quite fruitful to keep Moses in the middle of nowhere for 40 years watching sheep. So many years with nothing to show for! So much wasted potential. And yet, something was happening underneath the surface that Moses probably wasn’t even aware of. He was being formed into God’s likeness. God was shaping him to become a human being who would, if you encountered him, leave you with a lasting sense of what God must be like. In all his leadership, Moses’ key contribution was never his winsomeness, strategy, or ability to cast a great vision – but who he was as a human being, and his intimate familiarity with God.
So, back to my harsh German critics. As said above, I know that enough distraction and focusing on what’s next will make the pain go away. But my soul will be wandering on an unhealthy path. And thankfully, there’s an alternative. It’s not an easy alternative, but I’ve found that it starts very simple: All I need to do is admit to myself (and others) that this criticism hurt! It hurt a lot. I need to sit with that, allow my heart to hurt, and bring the pain to God. I need some time alone, a long walk, or an afternoon by myself without any distractions. I might need to cry, or scream, or both, or neither. And then, if it still hurts, another walk. And another one after that. We want to be so efficient with our souls, but that’s not how they “function.” This inner work takes time.
But it is essential! And, more than worth it. Because eventually, here is what did happen for me: another still, small voice started speaking. A voice reminding me that I am not my successes or failures. In fact, my worth is entirely separate from how “fruitful” my work may or may not be. My Father said that I am His beloved son, with whom He is well-pleased (thank you, Jesus, for giving me that status!). I am Alex, a human being in whom he delights. He does not care whether my workshop connected with the audience or not – he cares that I offered my gifts and my learnings, and the rest is up to Him. And, as for me: Isn’t there so much life in His presence to be enjoyed in the meantime?