Ever heard the phrase, "It's like putting an alcoholic in a bar?" I found myself sharing those words a few months ago when a mentor asked me what my experience has been like as a senior pastor. I said, "It's like putting an alcoholic in a bar." He looked at me in a caring, confused, and curious way. I responded to his curious look with these words...
 
"I struggle with anxiety. And, I was unprepared for just how difficult, challenging, and anxiety-inducing pastoral work can be."
 
"Anxiety-inducing pastoral work."
 
Hi. My name is Paul and I struggle with anxiety.
 
Being a pastor who struggles with an anxiety disorder is like being an alcoholic in a bar. Why? Because, the temptation to drink for an alcoholic is similar to the temptation of a pastor to allow others' anxieties to trigger their own anxiety. Pastoring is anxiety-inducing work. In any given week, a pastor could be called on to do deal with the following anxieties which other people express...
 

• Deal with a staff member who is anxious about trusting you
• Counsel a church member who is anxious about their marriage
• Hold the hand of a person who is anxious about their terminal diagnosis
• Hug a person who is anxious about their loved one's terminal diagnosis
• Perform a funeral for a family who is anxious about moving on without their matriarch or patriarch
• Listen to a church member share their anxiety about the lack of pictures in the church

 
I wish, I beg, I plead often with God that he would take away my anxiety. Walking the floor at 2 o'clock in the morning because I cannot sleep, having a tight chest and fearing I am having a heart attack, wanting my mind to slow down but cannot get it to do so, have all led to times where I have cried out to God in a very raw, angry, sad, and vulnerable way. "God, I cannot do this...".
 
I feel like a slave sometimes to anxiety, like it owns me. I am controlled by it.  I hate it. I hate feeling like I cannot escape it. I feel so overwhelmed and helpless. The anxiety may not kill me now, but I wonder if it will kill me later.
 
Yet...
 
In a weird twisted way, I sometimes see anxiety as a gift. A gift that causes me to not only read the words of 2 Corinthians 12, but to actually digest and mediate upon and wrestle with the deeply hopeful words of Christ, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." When I am up at 2 o'clock in the morning pacing the floor, when I find my mind and heart racing, when I cry out to God in mental pain, I realize that I am a very, very weak individual. And then, I cling to God's promise, "My power is made perfect in weakness."
 
"My power is made perfect in your anxiety."
 
To quote St. Paul, "Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me." Anxiety sucks. I mean it really really sucks. But, if it causes me to be more dependent upon Jesus Christ, then I see it not only as a burden, but as a gift.
 
The above words are not some pie-in-the-sky theology or philosophy. Again, I often find myself most angry at and sad towards God when I am experiencing an anxiety attack. But, from the depth of my being, the above words are true. I have a richer, strong, and more honest prayer life because of my anxiety.
 
Back to the bar analogy...I think churches often forget that their pastors are human beings who struggle with their own struggles. And if your pastor struggles with anxiety, please see them as human and ask yourself, "Does my pastor really need to know this today?" Every time a church member walks up to a pastor and casts their anxiety upon him or her, that church member is doing two things; not casting their anxiety upon Christ and metaphorically giving their anxious-ridden pastor an anxious drink. If your pastor politely turns and walks away, don't be offended. We encourage alcoholics who walk away from bars. Let's encourage anxious-ridden pastors who walk away from anxiety.
 
“Cast all your anxiety on him (God) because he cares for you.”
1 Peter 5:7 (NIV)

    We were up one with eight seconds left on the clock. Our small forward had just knocked down two free throws to take the lead. The other team inbounded the ball, advanced it to half-court, and called time out. As the opposing coach drew up her desired play, our staff decided to stay in man-to-man defense, but to switch every screen. We emphasized over and over during that sixty second time out for our players to TALK and make sure they knew who they were guarding and to TALK through switching every screen. I even asked each player to say the number of the player they were guarding before we broke the huddle. Every player identified an opponent she would defend. As our players walked out to half court, I felt hopeful. If we could defend for one more possession, we would win a hard fought game. 

    I watched as the official handed the inbounder the ball and quickly turned to watch the opponent’s offensive play develop. It was a “screen the screener” play, one which we had reviewed the day before in practice. We should have been ok, but, two of our players failed to TALK through a switch that should have occurred on a screen. As a result of not TALKING through the switch and to my disappointment, a girl on the opposing team curled towards the corner of the floor and got off a wide open seventeen foot jump shot. Nothing but net. 

We lost because we did not TALK through the play.

    I was attending the practice of a Division One women's basketball program when I heard a very irate head coach abruptly stop a drill. She shouted, “Ladies! I am going to tell our staff to not recruit anyone who doesn’t TALK on the floor! I’m tired of you all NOT TALKING. We cannot win if we do not TALK to one another.” 

“We cannot win if we do not TALK to one another.” 

    Most of the time when I am on the practice floor instructing my team to talk, I think about prayer because prayer is simply talking to God. I agree with the coach who said, “We cannot win if we do not talk to one another.” I would paraphrase her words this way, “We cannot win in life if we do not talk to God.” James, the brother of Jesus, said, “You have not because you ask not.” Jesus said, “Come to me all who labor and are heavy laden and I will give you rest.” Jesus, the creator of the Cosmos, has given us an open invitation to TALK to him and tell him what we need.  

    I once had a parishioner tell me, “I feel like God doesn’t exist and if he did, he wouldn’t listen to me.” I asked the parishioner, “Well, have you tried talking to him lately?” His reply was, “No.” (I immediately went back to that last second play when my team did not talk through the switch. We won not, because we talked not.) I looked at him and said, “You have not because you ask not. Give God a chance and TALK to him again. You never know what his response might be.” 

    Sometimes God answers our prayers with a “yes,” sometimes with a “no,” and sometimes with a “not yet.” I often grow frustrated when I feel as if his timing is off. When I pray or TALK to God, I sometimes focus on the answer over God. It doesn’t matter. No matter how often I pray or TALK to God, no matter my level of frustration or faith, and even when I struggle with focus, God still calls out to me, “Come. Pray. TALK to me.” 

We have not because we ask not.
We have not because we pray not.
We have not because we talk not. 

Ask, pray, and talk to the one who cries out, “Come to me.”  
    

"Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a workman who does not need to be ashamed and who correctly handles the word of truth." 2 Timothy 2:15

I was a young high school assistant coach tasked with creating the scouting report against the best team in the region. Our program was on the rise, but we still needed to notch a marque win verses a higher ranked opponent. Our next game was our first chance to show area teams that we were for real and it was my job to let our team know how to stop and attack the best team in the region. So, I set about watching film and looking for tendencies. 

I also received a certain gift as I developed my scouting report. Another coach contacted me and said, "I have a gift for you." And then they sent me our opponent's FULL PLAYBOOK.  "Where'd you get this," I asked. He replied, "From no one. I've been scouting them all year and this is what I've discovered." I was amazed that he had put in that much work, excited that there was so much detail in the scouting report, and thankful that he'd made my job easier. 

I still watched tape on our upcoming team to make sure that I agreed with what the other coach had given me. I did agree with that coach, made a few slight adjustments, and set out creating a practice plan that would prepare our team to exploit the other team's tendencies.  We had a great two days of practice leading up to the game and our team spent a significant amount of team studying the other team's playbook. Our staff was both nervous and excited. We felt we had a chance to beat the best team in the region.

Game time... 

Every time the opposing team's coach called a play, our girls were extremely prepared. They were so prepared that they would beat the opposing team's players to their offensive spots. I will always remember one play where a girl from the opposing team made a basket cut, but our power forward jumped to the exact spot of the cut, and stole the pass as if she was the offensive player who was supposed to receive it. She "beat the player to the spot" and disrupted the offense. We scored off that turnover and went on to beat the best team in the region by 15. It was a great night for our program!​

Scripture tells us to study to show ourselves approved by correctly handling the word of truth. The only way we can correctly handle the word of truth is by studying God's playbook like our team and the other coach studied our opponent's playbook. When we study God's playbook, we know how to attack the opponent. 

I think of how Jesus confronted his opponent, Satan, in the wilderness. Every time Satan tried to tempt Jesus, Jesus quoted Scriptural truth back to Satan. How different would our lives be if every time we were confronted by evil and temptation, we were able to "correctly handle the word of truth" in that moment of temptation? What if God's playbook truly became the lamp to our feet and a light to our path, guiding our way through life? 

"You missed her! She was wide open! Pass the ball!" The incensed father yelled from the stands at what I assumed was his daughter. At the same time the father was yelling at his daughter, the coach was trying to get her attention. The coach was waving his arms wildly, shouting her name. I felt bad for the girl. She was a very talented high school point guard, but the competing voices were keeping her from playing within the rhythm of the game. There was a look of confusion and frustration on her face. She couldn't get a break. Her dad was embarrassing her.

I wish I could say that I've only seen such an incident once. Sadly, I've seen it multiple times as an athletic director, coach, parent, and pastor; a parent or family member yelling at their child to do something better, whether it be pass, shoot, dribble, or play defense. And, almost always, I see a look of confusion and embarrassment on the face of the athlete. They're confused because there are competing voices vying for their attention and they feel torn. "Should I listen to my dad or my coach?" And, they're embarrassed because it feels like everyone is looking at them as their parent or family member yells at them.

My dad was both to me; a father and a coach. Ironically, he was never my coach because he coached girls basketball at another school. Yet, he was my coach in the fact that he would always attend my games when his team wasn't playing and he would always provide critiques after watching me play. (Sometimes very difficult critiques that made me wish he hadn't seen me play.) But, it's what he didn't do that I still remember and hold dear to this day; my dad, the coach, never ever spoke while watching me play. Never. Not once. My dad never yelled from the stands, never criticized, never encouraged. He simply sat there and watched. When I asked him why he was so quiet in the stands, he replied, "I want to give you space to play the game. I'm not your coach. You need to be listening to him."

I want to give you space to play.

I'm not your coach.

You need to be listening to him.

Dad knew that it was important for me to focus on playing and listening to my coach. He didn't want to be another competing voice in the midst of a game. His silence empowered me and simplified my responsibilities on the court.

Play the game. Listen to your coach.

Play the game.

Listen to your coach.

Now that I have a daughter who is a competitive gymnast, I find myself attending her competitions and being tempted to coach her through critique and praise. But you know what I do? I simply sit and watch. Don't get me wrong. I'm squirming inside with excitement and trepidation. But I do not speak because I want my daughter to focus on two things...

Play the game. Listen to your coach.

My daughter and I debrief her competitions, but I want to continue to practice the discipline of being quite while she is competing. I don't want to be a source of confusion or shame for her. I want to give her the space to play and listen to her coach.

My goal is the same for my children when it comes to the game of life. I want to give them the space to be who God created them to be and so that they can listen to Him, their true coach. Yes, God has placed parents on this earth to raise children in the proper way, but doing so means that we train them to ultimately listen to Him. That means that we sometimes must remain quiet and encourage our kids to listen to God when they are faced with a tough decision or circumstance.

I am not saying we abandon our kids during difficult moments. Are you kidding me? It would take the U.S. Army to take me away from my children in crisis. Nor am I saying that we withhold praise. I've always believed people, especially kids, respond better to praise than criticism. However, the sobering reality is that we, as parents, will not always be around when our children face crisis. We prepare them for those crisis by teaching them now how to listen to and spend time with God. So, please be teaching your children how to take a break from the world, pray to God, and listen to him. Teach them how to simply live life while listening to God. In essence, teach them to...

Play the game.

Listen to your coach.

"And in despair I bowed my head: 'There is no peace on earth,' I said, 'For hate is strong, and mocks the song of peace on earth, good will to men.'

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep: 'God is not dead, nor doth he sleep; The wrong shall fail, the right prevail, with peace on earth, good will to men.'"

It has taken me a while to understand why the words above move me so deeply. I've always felt drawn to this song, but have never been able to identify why. This year, I am starting to understand why these words stir me so.

Yesterday, I sat down at our extended Christmas table and had an amazing dinner with extended family. It felt perfect, wonderful, and...peaceful. Everything felt right in my world. Yet, as I bowed my head to say grace, it occurred to me that I have friends whose worlds are not at peace.

I have a friend whose mother is battling cancer.
I have friends whose little toddler is battling pediatric heart disease.

Cancer. Pediatric heart disease.

Cancer. Pediatric heart disease.

I get it now. When I reflect upon a world that has a place for cancer and pediatric heart disease, I want to sing the first stanza quoted above, "And in despair I bowed my head, 'There is no peace on earth,' I said, 'For hate is strong, and mocks the song of peace on earth, good will to men.'"

Hate is strong...and mocks the song of peace on earth, good will to men.
Cancer is strong...and mocks the song of peace on earth, good will to men.
Pediatric heart is disease is strong...and mocks the song of peace on earth, good will to men.

Are the words pronounced by the angel in Luke 2 even true, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men?" How can God's good will be resting on a family whose less than one year old child is battling heart disease? How can God's good will be resting on a family whose mother has had to battle multiple past cancers and is once again fighting for her life?

"There is no peace on earth," I said.

If the story ends with cancer and pediatric heart disease, I'm out.

But then, I am reminded of what the little baby in a manger was/is all about...God with us. To quote the angel that appeared unto Joseph and the Old Testament prophet, "Behold, a virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel, which being interpreted is God with us."

God With Us.

That little baby that was laid in a feeding trough would grow up and quote the following words from the Old Testament:

"The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the broken-hearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised, to preach the acceptable year of the Lord."

"He hath sent me to heal the broken-hearted," including less-than-one-year-olds whose physical heart is literally broken.

"He hath sent me to set at liberty them that are bruised," including those bruised from IVs and chemo lines.

"He hath sent me to preach the acceptable year of the Lord."

That little baby was not just a little baby. That little baby was Emmanuel, God-with-us.

God with the parents whose little baby is sick.

God with the children whose parent is sick.

God...With...Us.

A God-With-Us is not dead nor doth he sleep. A God-with-us will make sure that the wrong shall fail and the right prevail, and that there will be a day when there will once again be complete peace on earth, good will to men.

We may grieve and ache and hurt until that day. But we anxiously wait, just like the prophets of old waited for the promise of Emmanuel to be fulfilled. We wait until that day when the following words will be true...

“And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people (Emmanuel), and he will dwell with them (Emmanuel). They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God (Emmanuel). ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”” (Revelation 21:3-4 NIV)

God will once again be Emmanuel and there will be no more death, no more crying, no more pain, no more little children battling pediatric heart disease, no more moms fighting cancer. The old order of things will pass away and that same gift and promise we celebrate today will be once again, God-With-Us.

Emmanuel.

Merry Christmas!

​Lee, Morgan. "Here's How 770 Pastors Describe Their Struggle with Porn." Gleanings | ChristianityToday.com. Christianity Today, 26 Jan. 2016. Web. 30 Nov. 2016.

"Making the Connection: Trauma and Substance Abuse." Nctsn.org. The National Child Traumatic Stress Network, June 2008. Web. 30 Nov. 2016.

"PTSD: National Center for PTSD." How Common Is PTSD? - PTSD: National Center for PTSD. U.S. Department of Veteran Affairs, 3 Oct. 2016. Web. 30 Nov. 2016.

Scott (or Franklin). Mike. Scott. Dennis. Four names of four coaches who will always hold a very special place in my heart. They were the first four coaches I ever worked with on a full-time coaching staff. Man, did we grow close. When I think about these guys I think of two verses from Proverbs, “Iron sharpens iron” and “There is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.” These guys were my iron and we were brothers.

    I remember the time we were tied with less than 10 seconds left. Scott, our head coach, called a timeout. After discussing, as a staff, the proper play for the moment, we decided to draw up a play calling for our best shooter to catch the ball in the corner off a pin-down screen. We had executed that play MANY times in practice. It was a sure and wise decision. 

The girls listened intently as Scott purposefully and artfully drew the play on the dry erase board. We, the entire staff, were confident that the girls would execute it to perfection for a game winning shot. We broke the huddle with a hopeful all-hands-in “team” cheer and then we, the staff, waited for our girls to display our coaching prowess.

    The girls set up in the right formation. The ball was handed to the official. The screener went to set the screen and then…Our shooting guard, who was supposed to go under the screen, went over top of the screen, allowing her defender to deny her the pass. Our screener panicked and instead of trying to re-screen the defender, just stood still. The eyes of the girl in-bounding the basketball grew wider and wider as the horror of the play breaking down took place before her eyes. The other two offensive players started running around like chickens-with-their-heads-cut off, doing, what I am sure they thought, were productive basketball moves. As a staff, all of our faces turned ashen white. The play we thought was fault proof was unraveling before our eyes. Instead of thinking, “Get the ball and make the shot,” we were thinking, “Dear Lord, please don’t let it be a turnover.” 

And then, somehow, the ball was inbounded to our shooting guard who was supposed to be open in the corner. However, instead of catching the ball in the corner, she caught the ball about five feet behind the three point line, near the hash mark. And, once she caught the ball, she dribbled away from the basket! What was she thinking?!  By the time she made any move towards the basket, there were only three seconds left on the clock. 

“Well, at least it’s not a turnover.” 
“Maybe we can get them in overtime.”
“This is possibly the worst executed play in the history of basketball.” 

Two seconds. One second. Our guard was about three miles away from the basket when she attempted a lean-in, falling down, one foot, with one hand tied behind her back 25 footer (slight exaggeration). Time stopped. (You know those scenes in movies where everything slows down while everyone is following the flight of the ball. I can almost swear that the theme to “Chariots of Fire” was playing in the background too.) 

“There is no way this shot is going in.” 
“Who are we going to start in overtime?”
“If only we would have blocked out more.”

All of a sudden, I noticed something strange. The arch of the ball actually looked like it might end up close to the rim, which meant the shot had a chance of going in. (The music to Chariots of Fire grew louder.) The ball grew closer and closer to the basket. And then, I see the ball bank off the backboard and into the basket. The shot didn’t even touch the rim. The broken play-25 foot-falling down-lean-in acrobatic shot was a success. 

My reaction was to jump into the arms of Scott, who was a good two inches shorter than me. Now, we were the ones running around the court like chickens-with-our-heads-cut off celebrating the victory. Picture two grown men, two short grown men, acting like two little boys who had just defeated Mario Brothers for the first time. We celebrated by eating at Wendy’s. We laughed so hard we cried. Everyone was talking about either the miraculous shot or the two short coaches running around the court celebrating. 

What made that moment so special? Was it the miraculous shot? Definitely. Was it the fact that our team made something out of nothing and won? Sure. But what made it the most special was the band of brothers that I shared the sidelines with. I couldn’t think of a better metaphor to describe my time on that staff; in the arms of my brothers, running around like chickens-with-our-heads cut off, having a great time coaching a game we loved. A great staff can feel like family. These guys were my extended family.  

“As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.” Proverbs 27.17 

“I wish it was easy.” 
“I wish it was easier.”
“I wish I didn’t have to put in all this work.” 
“This sucks.”

    Four phrases that I often uttered as an athlete during pre-season workouts. Four phrases that I still hear athletes say today as I coach. Pre-season is not easy. Athletes are asked to focus on parts of their development that appear to have nothing to do with the sport they love. 

“What do mile runs have to do with my ability to make jump shots?”

“How can sprints possibly be tied to cutting off the player I’m guarding?” 

“Agility drills? I never zig-zag like this during a basketball game.”

“Plyometrics? When will I ever jump on a box in the 4th quarter?”

    Many a basketball player, or athlete, has found themselves wanting to give up in the middle of a pre-season conditioning drill because they are physically fatigued, are in pain, and do not understand that, if properly built upon, hard work pays off. What does a basketball player, or any athlete, do when pre-season conditioning gets tough? They lean in. They embrace it. They believe that the pain and hard work has a purpose.

In life, I sometimes find myself saying, “I wish this were easier.” “This” could be my role as a pastor, being a parent, being a husband, being a friend, being a coach, being a doctoral student, etc. I have often thought that if “this” were easier, my life would be better.

However, the older I get, I am finding myself starting to say a different prayer in the midst of pain, “Lord, use this pain to teach me what it is you want me to learn.” There are still many, many days where I still say, “I wish this were easier” or “This sucks.” But, the older I get, the more I believe that growth is not possible without experiencing pain and hard work. And, I believe that God primarily uses pain to grow us.

“Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be perfect and complete, needing nothing.” James 1:2-4 (NLT)

That athlete on the track during pre-season who is tired of sprinting—the pain and hard work will pay off by increasing their endurance. 

The parents who are wrestling through a tough parenting season with a difficult child—the pain and hard work will pay off by increasing their endurance.

The pastor who is fighting battles from all sides—the pain and hard work will pay off by increasing their endurance. 

Pre-season workouts could be easier, but there would be no increase of endurance. 

Life could be easier, but there would be no increase of endurance. 

So, when, as a point guard, parent, pastor, or spouse, life is full of hard work and pain, lean in because you are in the blessed crucible of growth.