When you work for a church...

“When you work for a church, you’re supposed to have your life together. When you work for a church, you’re not supposed to sin, and especially not the same sin twice. When you work for a church, you’re not supposed to have struggles, doubts, or questions.” This was my internal, unconscious dialogue during the majority of the first 9 months of my residency. That’s why, in the last 9 months, I’ve only written one blog post. I tend to write about the questions or the lessons that the Lord has placed on my heart, and I was afraid that those things would be too raw and ugly for a church worker to have. Wasn’t I supposed to have my life together?

When I moved to Fort Collins to do vocational ministry 9 months ago, I began experiencing the old, familiar feeling of insecurity, which didn’t make sense to me. I thought I had overcome this issue, and I knew that I was in God’s will, so why was I experiencing so much self-doubt? I felt like my middle school self again, terrified that people wouldn’t like me, or that I wouldn’t be good at my job. And because I work in college ministry, I felt like my job was to be a good person—to be someone who exemplifies Christ, who is worth imitating and listening to. As a 22-year old, freshly back from 6 months overseas, I moved 13 hours away from home by myself to do a job that I felt extremely unqualified for.

During this major life transition, I felt a lot of uncertainty and insecurity. And when I feel these things, I tend to go back to the equations that have worked for me since my childhood. I learned at a young age that hard work + time = results. These results then, could be used to convince people to notice me and approve of me. I thought that if I impressed people by being good at something, then I could earn their love.

In high school, this meant practicing basketball for hours a day, because over time, I could improve my shot so I could perform well in my games, and then people would notice me and like me. I would study hard to get good grades to impress my parents, friends, and teachers. When I went to college, the variables changed a bit, but the equation remained the same. I would put hard work in at the gym, and eventually, I would see physical results, and I could then use my body to gain attention. Once I started following the Lord, I could still use the equation. I put time into studying God’s word, discipling younger girls, and serving at the church, and through that, I could earn the approval of the people in my college ministry. This equation has always worked for me—just put more work or time in, and eventually I would be able to impress people enough to earn their respect, approval, and affection. So when I moved to Fort Collins, I was quick to begin my equational living.

But what I’ve learned in these last 9 months, is that ministry, and life in general, is not equational. Ecclesiastes 2:12-17 rang true for me, as it talked about how you can do the right thing, but still have no control over what happens in your life. If I’ve learned anything about vocational ministry, it’s that you can never control the results of your work. You never reach a point of completion or closure. There’s always more that can be done, because there are always more people who need to hear the good news of Jesus, and often, you don’t get to see the results of your efforts. So here I was, 22 years old, working in full time ministry, my heart itching to prove my value by performing, but my equation wasn’t working.

My heart was starving for attention and affection, and I began to look to people for the approval that I longed for. I wanted my boyfriend to convince me that I was worthy of love. I wanted my boss to tell me that I was good at my job. I wanted my family to miss me and to be proud of me. I wanted my friends to be impressed by me. I wanted my students to look up to me. But none of it was enough to satisfy the question deep in my heart: “Am I enough?”

I recently came back from a 2 month mission trip to Albania, and as soon as I arrived back in Fort Collins, the familiar insecurities washed back over me. I felt burnt out and had so much self-doubt and apprehension for my second year in vocational ministry. Then I read a quote from a book that said:

“Identity is not something achieved by your performance or by your control or by how people perceive you. Identity is a gift that is received from a loving Father who adopted you because He wanted you and chose you to be in His family.” (Soul Care by Dr. Rob Reimer)

Even though I had heard this truth a hundred times, it struck my heart in a new way. I realized in a deep and real way that in Christ, my identity is not achieved, but received. I had spent the last 9 months, and honestly most of my life before that, trying so hard to achieve a valuable identity. What I was missing was that the issue of my value was settled at the cross. Because He gave His life for me, I have inherent value. It doesn’t matter that I work for a church, it doesn’t matter what I do or who likes me, or how good I am at my job. None of that can ever change my value, which has already been proclaimed and sealed in the death of Jesus.

In this revelation, I am realizing that the assumptions and expectations I had about the identity of church workers, and about who I should be as a church worker, were all wrong. When you work for a church, you still mess up, you’re still broken, you still have questions and doubts and insecurity. But that is not my identity! My identity is as the daughter of the King, the bride of Christ, His chosen child, and nothing I can ever do can change that.