Back in the olden days (read: before mid-March 2020), every pastor new to a church would experience a twelve-month cycle of firsts. There would be your first [insert liturgical season here], your first [insert signature congregational event here], your first conflict, your first death of a church pillar. Through all of these events, the clergyperson and congregation would get to know each other’s gifts and passions and quirks much better, and hopefully this deeper knowing would solidify the pastor-parish relationship going forward.

Well, if you’re a minister who started a new call later than April 2019, you had a pandemic dropped into your initial twelve months, meaning you might not have experienced (or maybe even learned about) that obscure but much-loved Easter tradition or the unexpected level of activity in the summer months. Your cycle is incomplete. So what does this mean?

If we’re able to re-gather physically when that first comes around next year, you’ll have a learning curve. Remind people that you haven’t experienced it. Otherwise, they might expect you to know all about it, leading to hurt feelings.

You might feel really excited to participate in that first you missed - or you might not. That event could represent a return to something resembling “normal.” On the other hand, your level of commitment to it could be low.

You’ll get to probe the importance of that event you missed. You’ll have the blissful lack of awareness to ask any question you want, and you’ll have built more trust so that you can probe deeper.

Be gentle with yourself when you don’t feel too attached to what you missed, and allow yourself to grieve what you anticipated at your new call but didn’t get to enjoy. Pandemic-flavored ministry is hard for everyone, but in some ways it is hardest for those pastors who changed congregations just before or even during the outbreak.

Photo by Photos by Lanty on Unsplash.

Two months after most of the United States began feeling the sucker punch of Covid-19, states are moving at various speeds to “re-open” the economy. I have a number of feelings about this, many of them related to the dangers faced by vulnerable populations and the likelihood that we’ll all be sheltering at home again soon.

And then, there’s this: the reality that many of the people whose work drives the economy will be unable to return to their positions because childcare is so scarce. (It was virtually non-existent pre-Coronavirus in my rural Alabama county, where there was one daycare, no extended day at the schools, and no summer programming.) Schools are closed for the rest of the 2019-2020 academic year, as are many childcare centers for the foreseeable future. Parents can’t ask neighbors or family to look after kids because of the possibility of spreading the virus or because they’re taking care of their own children.

We all know what this means, right? Disproportionately, the responsibility of caring for kids in the absence of outside help will fall to women. Women generally earn less, so they’re the ones to give up their jobs when there isn’t adequate childcare. Both women and men have internalized misogyny that characterizes childrearing as women’s work. And these two issues are for two-parent households. Single parents face a range of additional barriers to work when reliable childcare is out of reach.

We simply cannot lose women’s work in any sphere, ministry included. We cannot sacrifice their innovation, their perspectives, their gifts, their tenacity, their tendencies toward collaborative leadership - especially now, when the world is topsy-turvy and demands grit and fresh thinking. I don’t have any answers for solving the childcare dilemma, unfortunately, but I would urge that women consider the following:

Accept that the ongoing crisis is hard for everyone - and that its not changing anytime soon. It would be easier to ride out a time-bound frustration, but there’s no expiration date on this pandemic. We need to make shifts, then, where we’re able.

Notice ongoing and new patterns that de-prioritize your vocation. The pandemic is exacerbating pre-existing problems at every level of society and creating new fault lines. Reflect on what is happening in your household and community so that you can make the aforementioned shifts.

Ask your partner (if you have one) clearly for the time and space you need to work. I, for one, have a bad habit of believing that if I sulk enough, my spouse will intuit the nature of my resentment. It never works.

Support other women in naming what they need. When we encourage one another, it becomes easier to say hard things and harder to take the easy (but soul-crushing) way out.

Raise your voice. The lack of available (and affordable while still paying workers fairly) childcare is a long-running problem, and we’re about to see what happens when an untenable system collapses entirely. Raise a ruckus with those who might be able to do something about the short- and longer-term needs.

Moms, I see you. You are trying to care for kids with big feelings and help them with schoolwork and squeeze work in here and there and maintain your own physical and mental health. Don’t be afraid to seek out whatever support is available to you right now.

Yesterday a clergy friend shared this article about a church in Calgary. The congregation had gathered at 25% of the building’s capacity, observed social distancing, and was careful about handwashing. In other words, those present - none of whom had symptoms or had been around (to their knowledge) anyone with the virus - had taken all the precautions recommended at the time. Within two weeks, half of the attendees had tested positive for Covid-19. Two have since died.

This incident highlights the danger of gathering as church in person too soon. And yet, pastors are under duress to re-open as soon as possible. Some of the pressure comes from knowing that other sectors of society are easing restrictions. Some comes from church members, who are eager to see people they have missed and to enjoy the comfort and routine that worship offers. Some comes from ministers’ own worries that they will be perceived as too cautious or even lazy for not moving church back to the building at the first opportunity.

It is an odd sensation - and an emotional burden heaped on top of those that clergy usually bear - to know that our decisions have impact on people’s very existence. And yet, here we are. So how do we navigate the messages and lead faithfully at this critical juncture?

I am offering a group coaching session via Zoom on Wednesday, May 20, from 1:00-2:30 pm CDT. We’ll use this time to process the external and internal messages participants are receiving, consider what pastoral leadership looks like when ministers' decisions impact public health, discuss what that means for how you function with faithfulness during this time, and identify sources of support as you navigate the tension.

This session will be limited to no more than five participants. The cost will be $25, payable via PayPal or check. Registration is available here. If you have questions, I welcome you to contact me. Together we will reflect, learn, and reinforce one another's abilities to do hard things.

Several clergy have mentioned lately that they are putting together surveys to distribute to their church members around easing back in to in-person gatherings. I’d like to suggest a few things to keep in mind as you create these surveys:

• Be clear with yourself about what you hope to gain from the survey. Now is not the time for busywork. Ask the questions that give you the information you need.

• Overcommunicate the purpose of the survey, the means of completing it, the deadline, and the people who will lay eyes on individual submissions. This takes more effort in a time when we cannot physically be together, but establishing expectations builds trust. That trust will be essential as you make hard decisions in the coming days.

• Don’t include anything that isn’t up for negotiation. This is very important. If you won’t budge on a matter for ethical or theological reasons, don’t ask for opinions on it. You might get backup for what you think needs to happen, but soliciting feedback could also backfire.

• Make sure the survey is accessible in a number of ways. You’re getting to be a pro at using all the ways to connect with people! Use them to distribute the survey.

• Utilize the results. This goes back to the first two bullet points. Don’t make more work for yourself - you’ve got enough - and don’t blow trust by asking for feedback and then disregarding it.

Finally, I want to give you permission not to survey the congregation about issues related to re-opening. Surveys are most helpful when they attempt to glean what the takers experience, think, or believe or what they’re willing to do. We’re currently dealing with a public health situation in which the main focus cannot be personal preference. The priority must be placed on what will keep the people in our care safe. It is ok to trust yourself, your lay leaders, your judicatory, and the scientific community in order to do just that.

Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash.

Two weeks ago I offered a couple of webinars for search teams addressing the challenges of looking for a pastor during a pandemic. The responses were very positive. I received questions from several searching clergy, though, asking whether the content would be helpful for them as well. I welcomed them to participate - and then I began mulling whether a separate resource might be more useful.

As a result I have just released a 43-minute webinar providing searching pastors with pandemic-related questions that search teams are asking, questions for candidates to ask search teams, questions for candidates to ask themselves, new opportunities for telling one's story to search teams, new challenges for searching, and things to consider when starting a call during a new normal.

Access to the webinar is $10 and can be purchased here. (Note that I have also created a recording of the version for search teams, and it can be found here.)

I hope that these resources about the particular considerations the pandemic has prompted will be useful to you. I am available for coaching around these challenges as well, and you can schedule a free exploratory call here.

Let me be clear. Priority one during this pandemic is simply to make it through. If this is where you are hunkered down, then I say - with all sincerity - “You’re doing great. Keep it up.” Full stop.

If you have the privilege of breathing space, though, you might have some new awareness on your periphery. It might be about your own functioning or your call. It might be about your congregation’s resilience or the over-programming (now stripped away) that has been distracting from your church’s purpose. Whatever those foggy realizations are, they are Spirit promptings worth clarifying and holding onto for now and for the emerging new normal(s).

On Tuesday, May 12, I am offering a group coaching session to tease out and lock in these valuable gleanings. This call will take place 1:00-2:30 pm CDT by Zoom and is limited to five participants. The cost is $25 and will be invoiced through PayPal (payable through PayPal or by check).

If you’d like to get more information or register, you can do so here. If you have questions, I encourage you to contact me. I look forward to our time together to reflect, learn, and reinforce our ability to do hard things.

The International Coaching Federation has designated Wednesday, May 6, as International Coaching Day. On that day all ICF-accredited coaches are encouraged to offer free sessions in order to introduce those who have not experienced coaching to the personal and professional value it offers.

I am pleased, then, to have blocked off Wednesday morning for 30-minute sessions at no charge. Any minister who has never been individually coached by me is welcome to sign up. You can visit my calendar here to reserve your time. I look forward to talking with you!

I was talking today with a pastor whose church is facing a time-sensitive congregational vote around a big issue. She had thought through the most obvious options - voting virtually or by mail - but neither seemed like a fit for either her people or the subject of the vote. Working with her judicatory leader and church council, then, she developed a way for her members to vote in person. Here is what she came up with:

• Dividing the church directory into much smaller segments (10-12 voting members)

• Assigning each segment a day and a two-hour window to come to the (heavily-sanitized before and after) church to cast their ballots

• Asking people to wear masks and having extras available for those who don’t have access or who forget

• Marking socially-distanced spots on the floor in case multiple people arrive at the same time to vote (and offering reminders as needed to avoid physical contact)

• Having voters pick up their own ballots and deposit completed ones directly into a box

• Making mail-in ballots available on request, with a postmark deadline

Note that it is essential in situations like these to consult your by-laws about voting parameters, to run your plans by your judicatory leader to test for validity and proper safety precautions, and to consider all the risks involved and mitigations required. But an in-person vote might be an option - in smaller congregations, at least - for calling a pastor, deciding whether to sell property, or other big congregational issues.

Photo by Element5 Digital on Unsplash.

Recent scenes from my house:

I am sending emails from my desk, my seven-year-old curled around my feet as he plays with Lego minifigures.

I am wrestling internally with how hard to push my kid to complete the math worksheets assigned by his teacher, even as I seek to lower work expectations for myself.

I am coaching in my office, noting the sounds of my son humming the Jurassic Park soundtrack filtering through multiple walls.

I am closing the lid of my laptop as my child comes to me with a book and a need to snuggle.

I am wondering, as I drift off to sleep, how well I served anyone that day with my attention pulled in multiple directions.

Pastor-parents, I salute you. You are walking a tightrope right now, learning how to do - and doing - all the church things in new ways while your children also need your attention. And, of course, your own exhaustion requires tending as well. How do we strike that balance?

I am offering a group coaching session next Tuesday, April 28, in which we’ll work through that struggle for ourselves. How we want to show up for the people in our care (both at church and at home), what is essential to us right now for both pastoring and parenting, and what shifts would we like to make as a result? The session will take place 12:00-1:30 pm CDT via Zoom and limited to no more than five participants. The cost will be $25. Click here to sign up.

Pastor-parents - I see you. Thank you for the ways you care for the people in your personal and professional lives.

If you’ve been visiting laurastephensreed.com for a long time, welcome back. If you’re new to this site, I’m glad you’re here. I have relaunched my online presence in an effort to serve all the constituencies I serve - clergy, congregations, and pastor search teams - more effectively.

Here’s what you need to know about this new and improved website:

It is easier than ever to get to my scheduler. There are buttons in the footer (and in the main content of many pages) for current and potential coachees.

I update the blog weekly. You can stay current by subscribing to the blog or by following me on Facebook or Twitter.

You can search blog content by constituency. I have categorized all posts as applicable to clergy, congregations, and/or pastor search teams.

My newsletter is designed to be a handy resource for you. I send a monthly edition with links and tools. If you didn’t respond to the pop-up invitation extended when you first arrived at laurastephensreed.com, you can sign up for the newsletter here. (If you signed up on the old website, don’t worry, I’ve still got you on my list.)

As you poke around, I welcome your feedback. Where have I missed a link? What is hard to find? What do you need that isn't there? My goal with this new online presence is to serve you as best I can.

Photo by Belinda Fewings on Unsplash.

I am in awe of the ministry you are providing, and I urge you not to burn yourself out. We'll need your creativity and compassion over the long haul.

After writing Covid-19-related blog posts daily the week of March 16, I have shifted my focus to making brief videos and mini-posts to share on Facebook. I hope that these efforts will encourage you and offer reflection points to help you stay grounded as the Coronavirus crisis continues. If there are other ways that I can support you as a pastor and as a person during this trying season, please contact me.

Currently, pretty much everything is more complicated than it was a few weeks ago. That includes ministerial transitions. If you are deep into a search process or are working out your notice, below is a flow chart to help you think through the coverage of pastoral duties and your own needs. (Zoom in so that you can read the fine print. Alternatively, here is a PDF version.)

Obviously, this chart does not address all of the issues to consider. Here are a few more to mull:

Moving. It is inadvisable at best to change locations right now. That might mean that you stay in place and begin a new call virtually. If so, be sure to negotiate now for time to move later. If you live in a parsonage/manse/rectory, you might end up still living on the property of a church you no longer serve. (The person following you will also be unable to move, so at least that might not be an issue.) Work with congregational leadership on issues related to boundaries. Consult your judicatory leader to help you navigate the issues related to housing allowance and an accountant to find out what the tax implications might be.

Closure. How do you say goodbye when you cannot safely be around other people? Two options come to mind. First, say goodbye the way you are going about all your other relational tasks right now: by phone, computer, or mail. Second, this might be one of those rare occasions to bend the rules around a hard end date. You might be able to schedule an in-person send-off for later, but do consider how your reappearance might impact those beloved church members and the minister in place.

In all transition-related matters, lean on your judicatory or denominational leaders for wisdom. This situation is new for them as well, but they might have a sense of the bigger picture and expertise that can greatly benefit you and your sending and receiving churches.

In his book The Righteous Mind: Why Good People Are Divided by Politics and Religion, social psychologist Jonathan Haidt covers a range of themes about which liberals and conservatives disagree. One is the care/harm theme in which the two polarities differently attribute definitions and causes of hurt and assign the responsibilities of society toward those who are vulnerable. In another, the polarities take varying stances toward people with power.

Our relationships toward these two themes are running beneath the surface of many COVID-19 conversations. Who is to blame for the spread of the virus? Who is supposed to do what about it? How well are our leaders serving us in this crisis? Who is the boss of me and my comings and goings as recommendations for ever more stringent social distancing guidelines are urged?

Right now these questions are only helpful insofar as they reduce the spread of disease. Beyond that, they are ingredients for introducing even more anxiety into a system that is already highly reactive. Still, the questions aren't going away.

For leaders, then, the need to self-differentiate is more important (and difficult) than ever. If we can be with our people rather than react to to them, we'll model ways to manage self and begin to infuse the system with more stability.

What does self-differentiating in a pandemic mean? Here are some thoughts:

Listen deeply to others. When people feel heard, seen, and valued, the tension in a conversation drops.

Stay curious. Seek to understand, whether or not you agree.

Don't try to change minds. Be clear about what you believe, but prioritize the relationship over the position.

Neither under- nor overfunction. This helps distribute responsibility throughout the system, evening out the emotions.

Balance thinking and feeling. You need both, but too much of one or the other will make it hard to keep connected with people.

Stay present with people. If you can be grounded where you are, there is always the potential for care and respect.

Take care of yourself. Self-differentiation is hard work. Shore up your support system as needed.

Your leadership matters. While others panic, blame, or scoff, your self-management is helping make it possible for those in your care not just to cope, but to assign meaning to this unprecedented experience.

I recently finished reading Ada Calhoun's book Why We Can't Sleep: Women's New Midlife Crisis. It was pretty on-the-nose about how I feel these days - stretched thin, anxious, and simmering with low-grade rage most of the time. Calhoun points out the myriad reasons why many women of my generation feel this way. Among them are having so many more career possibilities (expectations, even) without much additional support for parenting and managing a household, coming of age professionally during financial crises that ultimately let to fewer and lower-paying job opportunities, being dismissed by much of the medical community around peri/menopause symptoms, and caring for young kids and aging parents simultaneously.

And yet, as many memes have been reminding me lately, Gen Xers are uniquely qualified to manage in a pandemic. Our expectations are low, partly because we're used to being invisible to others. We're able to entertain and take care of ourselves. We've partaken of our fair share of dystopian films and novels, so not much surprises us.

I think that Gen X clergywomen in particular are suited to this moment in time. No, the pressures common to our generation have not lifted. But we have the Gen X survival skills paired with the grit, wisdom, faithfulness, and creativity that come from having to make our own way in the church world. (Yes, we owe much to the clergywomen who came before for blazing the path. We have the benefit/challenge, though, of figuring out how to lead and be valued in ways authentic to us, not just imitating the guys like our forebears had to do.)

And so I would remind you that you are likely crushing it, even when you don't feel like it, and urge you to tend to the three steps Ada Calhoun recommends:

Get support. Don't go it alone. Lean on your laypeople to share the congregational care load and seek out clergy with whom you can vent and share best practices.

Reframe the situation. What's another narrative you can lift out of the current crisis, for yourself and others? What expectations do you need to lower since we're all feeling our way along?

Wait. The pandemic won't last forever, just like middle age won't. Life will be different on the other side.

If I can support, resource, or encourage you in this time - of pandemic, of season of life - please drop me a line. 

On the best of days, many churches have long spent too much energy on what they do not have, usually a balanced budget and pews bursting at the end caps. The COVID-19 crisis has ramped up that fear about scarcity. Not only do we not have an offering plate to pass or full sanctuaries, we cannot safely gather in person at all. We do not even have the incarnational comfort of physical proximity.

Ok. All of that is true. All of that is hard. And, it is not the only story. Abundance still exists. You might just have to look a little harder or get more creative to find it. But once you do, you can build on it in ways that will benefit your congregation far beyond the passing of this immediate crisis. Here, then, are some places where you might take stock:

Tech savvy. Who are the people in your church who know how to connect others or disseminate information in a variety of ways by technology? What platforms or equipment might they have access to that your church could use to gather constituents virtually at various times?

Connections to denominational partners. Your denomination (including publishing houses, benefits boards, and more) or middle judicatory has probably sent information out to churches. What resources are on offer? What resources might you ask about, such as mini grants to set up online platforms?

Time. Some of your church members are extra busy right now as they work from home (and possibly try to homeschool their kids simultaneously). Those who are home and cannot/do not telecommute, though, might have availability that they might not otherwise. How might they use that time to serve others, perhaps by calling or texting individuals or hosting virtual gathering?

Individual connections. Who do the people in your church know, whether from school, work, volunteer efforts, professional networks, clubs, or businesses they frequent? How might those connections be leveraged remotely to help those in need, whether within your congregation or beyond?

Individual talents. What are the people in your church good at - whether those are life skills or for pure enjoyment - and that they might teach others to do by phone or video? What can they make and share (with proper precautions) with others, such as poetry or meals or activity kits for kids?

This is not an exhaustive list, but it does provide examples of ways to think more deeply about strengths your church can leverage in a greatly changed context. Getting creative about ways to connect has the added advantage of moving your congregation forward into an increasingly digital world - pandemic or not. And it further trains us to notice where God is at work among us, a habit that is spiritually transformative.

Let’s not mince words. This whole COVID-19 business sucks.

That suckage covers a big range, too. At one extreme, there’s the physical danger to immunosuppressed people and to those living in poverty, who might have difficulty feeding themselves as schools close and shelves empty at food banks and at stores that take government benefits. At the other extreme, people lament the (hopefully very short-term) loss of all that makes life enjoyable, such as birthday parties and trips and worship services and the NCAA basketball tournament. And these are only the immediate impacts.

So we’re all feeling the pinch in some way. The mortal danger is, of course, the exponentially greater concern. That’s why institutions of all kids are taking precautions and recommending safety guidelines to leaders and individuals – including pastors and church members. Talk about the things they didn’t teach you in seminary: many a minister is struggling to tend both to concerns about vulnerable people and frustrations about closures in a context that is now changing hourly.

Fully acknowledging how much the situation stinks, there are a couple of opportunities to keep in mind.

First, the church is not the building where your congregation is used to meeting. The church I attended in seminary had (and probably still has) a sign that said, “Oakhurst Baptist meets here.” It was a way of separating the congregation from the physical location. Many a church struggles to do that. After all, how many conversations about sanctuary carpet or the color the youth want to paint the walls of their meeting space become seemingly all-consuming, to the detriment of actual ministry? With many churches canceling in-person gathering for at least the next few weeks, there can begin to be more daylight between the people and the place.

With that in mind, how can you help your congregation members see in new ways that church is about relationships, not a facility? How will you equip and encourage your people to tend to those connections in the absence of a physical gathering place?

Second, the church as it was has been dying for some time. Many pastors know that, yet it can be hard to imagine what a new iteration of church might look like. And even if we can visualize it, how in the world can we inspire our people to be courageous enough to attempt it? Well, this pandemic offers a laboratory for that. We can’t conduct business as usual. We thus have unprecedented permission to discern new ways of connecting to one another as we seek to grow in our relationships with God.

So what expressions of the scattered church have you wanted to play with but heretofore haven’t dared? If you’re not sure what you’d like to experiment with, how can those who are accustomed to relating to people who aren’t physically present (e.g. youth ministers, digital natives, tech professionals) show us the way?

I am praying for you, pastors, and I am confident in your faithfulness, compassion, and ability to innovate. Lean into those strengths – you might be surprised by what emerges. And as you attempt new things, give yourself permission not to have all the answers immediately. We’re all feeling our way along in this brave new world.

At the height of Michael Jordan's NBA career, Gatorade launched the "Be like Mike" campaign. If we replenished our electrolytes with the same sports beverage as Jordan, then we could hope to lead our teams to NBA titles, be named the NBA's MVP, and take home multiple NBA scoring and slam-dunk championships.

It's important to have role models, people who broaden our imaginations about what's possible. At some point there becomes a danger, though, of feeling like a fraud if we compare ourselves to those role models - or even to those who don't seem to be putting in the work yet reap the rewards of their positions - and judge ourselves as coming up short. There aren't enough gallons of Gatorade to make up for gaps in privilege or charisma or opportunity or raw talent.

Even in 2020, many clergywomen are treated as if we are "playing at" pastoring, as if we don't deserve to live into the fullness of God's call on our lives and aren't capable to exercise the fullness of God's equipping for our vocations. While we often feel like we are treading water, toiling for our authority every day, we see others gaining bigger platforms.

Enter impostor syndrome: what am I doing here? Is someone going to realize I don't belong and call me on it? Does my effort even matter, since I might never be the Michael Jordan of ministry? (Spoiler alert: YES.) Impostor syndrome is widespread and insidious. It makes us feel like our gifts and ministries aren't valuable to God or God's people. It urges us to lead in ways that are not authentic to us, which means we don't leverage our God-given strengths as faithfully as we could. It causes us to doubt our decisions instead of using outcomes - whatever they might be - as fodder for ongoing discernment. It causes us to compare ourselves to others, which prompts discouragement that can eventually lead to our departure from ministry altogether.

From 11:00 am -12:30 pm central time on May 13 I will be offering an interactive workshop for clergywomen on managing impostor syndrome. Within a theological framing, we'll name what impostors are. As counterpoints, we'll discuss how we came to be where we are, what our impact is on our ministry settings, how we can remember our worth, and how we can develop mutual support networks to bolster one another when symptoms of impostor syndrome emerge. Participants will take away awareness and practices they can put in place to live out of God's call on their lives and God's love for God's people rather than out of the (sometimes internalized) expectations of others.

The cost for this workshop, which will take place via the Zoom online platform, is $20. There will be an option to add on three 1-hour coaching sessions, at a discounted rate of $225 (total for all three sessions), to help you apply what you learn. Click here to sign up.

Discernment is reallllly hard.

Discernment is also reallllly important.

Here is a link to the audio of a sermon I preached two Sundays ago about the why and the how of discernment. I was in the pulpit at First Baptist Church in Memphis, Tennessee, which is between settled pastors. In my role as the FBC’s transition facilitator, I was speaking directly to the challenge and the gift of discerning along the way to calling a new minister. The sermon also applies anytime we as clergy or congregations feel the internal or external pressure just to get on with it.

There is more than one way to assess the dynamics at play in conflict. We have the intrapersonal elements: what is going on within each person? Internal struggles are sometimes good fodder for conversation with a therapist or counselor, a professional who helps individuals understand how their current reactions are shaped by past experiences. Once that awareness emerges, healing becomes possible.

In conflict there are also the interpersonal aspects: what is happening among people? I don’t know of an approach that offers more insight into relationships than family systems theory, which explains how different emotional units interact in healthy and unhealthy ways.

To be certain, the intra- and interpersonal overlap when conflict threatens to boil over, and a basic grasp of both is essential to pastoral care at multiple layers. But I think an additional filter is helpful when we’re dealing with issues at the congregational level. Otherwise we can quickly get into the weeds, analyzing who is where in the system or what each person’s triggers are, so that it’s hard to zoom back out to the big picture. Meetings grind to a halt and initiatives die because we’re so focused on managing problems at the micro level.

In my mind, then, congregations live on an x-y axis. Individuals are points on the plane. Family systems theory orients us along the horizontal axis, helping us see how one person relates to the next. The vertical axis can in turn offer us a deeper though perhaps simpler way in to focusing what’s going on by taking us from symptoms at the surface to underlying issues.

At the outset we deal with logic. What are the arguments the involved parties are making? What are the counterpoints? If conflict is not resolved through reason, through adding up pros and cons and taking the most apparently advantageous path, then something else is going on.

The next level down to probe, then, is emotion. Who is feeling what and why? How might those feelings need tending? Whose heart or relationship needs mending?

If conflict remains after working with logic and feelings, then there is a struggle for power, whether or not it’s acknowledged as such. Who has control in certain situations? How did they get it, and how do they maintain it? What would it look like to give some of it up, and who would benefit? What would it take to convince the powerholders to cede some of their stake?

This approach, adapted from Sarah Drummond’s book Dynamic Discernment, provides a more streamlined on-the-spot assessment and offers a way to think about what it would take truly to get conversations and plans moving in a helpful direction. So the next time you’re blindsided in a conversation or banging your head on the conference table during a stalled-out meeting, travel the vertical axis of reason-emotion-power, taking care as you have breadth to tend to the pastoral care needs of individuals and emotional units.

Many clergywomen find themselves in the position of needing to re-invent themselves at some point. There are many reasons why. We are geographically limited. Or congregational ministry positions are drying up as church budgets shrink. Or we have small children or aging parents who need more of our attention than full-time congregational ministry allows. Or we’ve been scarred by church work. Or we have yet to find a venue that fully utilizes our gifts. Or God is at work in us, shaping a vision of what we’ve been made for. 

And so we dream about – or are forced to consider – what an out-of-the-box ministry could look like. Let me say (as someone who has been there) that I am in your corner. I’d offer these steps to you as you mull and plan.

Define your purpose in ministry. What is it that God is nudging you to do? The specific tasks aren’t as important at this point as what your overall aim is. “I create spaces for people to grow their relationships with God and one another.” “I help churches navigate change with clarity and hope.”

Free yourself up to think broadly about ministry. Many seminaries are geared to drive students toward traditional congregational ministry positions. There’s more than one way, though, to live out your purpose in ministry. What way(s) suit you and your strengths?

Consider the environment you need. What kind of space does your ministry require? Do you work best with people or on your own? What supports and/or accountability will allow you to make the most of your gifts? What equipment or resources can undergird your efforts? How important is location to your success?

Think about your financial requirements. Creating your own ministry often means leaving the world of steady pay and benefits. How much fluctuation in income can you tolerate, at least in the short term? How will you secure health insurance? Remember too that business expenses will now likely come out of your gross income, and be sure to figure that in to your projections.

Identify to whom your ministry would be good news. If God is inviting you to consider a new venture, your efforts will be valuable to others as well. Find those people, tell them what you’re mulling, and listen deeply to the feedback as you gauge their level of excitement.

Pray on it. After you’ve done all of the above, turn your data and your shoulds and coulds over to God: that would you have me do? This is a time for discernment, not decision-making.

Promote yourself. “Noooo…” you might be thinking. “I don’t want to do that. I can’t do that.” But remember those people you talked to who saw great potential in what you were thinking about. Letting those who need your ministry know that your help is available is a service to – not a burden on – them.

Set attainable targets for yourself. You have very little control over whether you net a certain number of new clients per month, so a goal like this is a recipe for frustration. You can absolutely make so many new contacts or spend X number of hours per week working on a particular project, though. These kinds of mileposts keep you moving forward.

Celebrate the flexibility you have when times are lean. Hustling is hard. It requires tenacity. You will wonder many times if you heard God correctly when you stepped out on this limb. And, you will be so glad when you don’t have to plan time away, whether it’s to attend an event your child’s school or to get away for a few days, around a million other concerns.

Find colleagues. Even if you work well alone, don’t allow yourself always to be alone. Look for people with whom you can provide mutual encouragement, space to vent, and brainstorming time.

Keep learning and growing. There’s a lot of trial and error in starting up a new venture. Instead of letting the errors discourage you, use them for further discernment. What about this particular try helped me be faithful to my purpose? What distracted me from it? Use those reflections to refine your ministry.

Be patient with yourself. You are brave. You are wise. You are innovative. You have much to offer. And, it will take time to build your ministry. Release yourself from the expectation – and the pressure that comes with it – of going from 0 to 60 in a few months.

I have found great joy in reimagining what ministry looks like for me. That does not mean it’s always been easy. It took a long time to build toward sustainability, but I can now confidently say it was worth the effort. So all the best to you in your new season of ministry. Know that I am here to help if you need it.