Leading With A Limp
by: Elita Friesen
“I’m not ok.”
I was standing in my kitchen talking to my husband when these three words made their way out of my mouth. I hadn’t exactly planned to share my feelings this particular way or at this particular moment. It was late, after all. I was tired. The kitchen was still a mess from feeding our four young kids who’d long-since gone to bed. I was already thinking about what time I’d have to wake up the next morning in order to fit in all the ministry and motherhood hats I was wearing. But there I was –a dirty dish towel in one hand and a compost container in the other –and the words were out before I could stop myself.
For months leading up to that night in our kitchen, several things had been happening in our family that required us to navigate new, difficult territory. We were doing ok but had found ourselves in a season of life that was just flat out hard. Exhausting, even. It was a private, delicate battle that only a precious few had been invited into.
As all of this was unfolding in our personal lives, I suddenly found myself feeling very insecure when it came to the ministry side of my life. How was I to lead others when my world felt flawed? To be clear: I knew no one expected me to be perfect. But surely there was at least a certain level of “okayness” expected in church leaders?
So, I pushed all the emotions down. Like, way down. I buried them, ignored them, and denied them; I may have even rebuked them a time or two. Like Elsa (or is it Anna?) in Frozen, my unspoken mantra became a weird version of conceal it, don’t feel it. It sounds incredibly unhealthy, I know. Which is why that night in our kitchen, my confession of “not being ok” rushed out of me like a bottled-up geyser.
My husband isn’t in ministry. He builds houses and owns a construction company and would quite often rather be in the mountains praying than sitting in church on a Sunday. But every now and again that man can preach common sense right to my heart. He did it that night when he looked clear across the room at me and said: Elita, it’s ok not to be ok.
Phew. Thank God for good husbands who aren’t afraid to say it like it is.
The next morning, I found myself in 2 Corinthians. It’s that great passage about Paul navigating his own tough, potentially debilitating issues. He writes:
Concerning this, I pleaded with the Lord three times that (these thorns in my flesh) would leave me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is perfected in weakness.”
2 Corinthians 12:9 (CSB)
Funny how something you’ve read a thousand times can hit you square between the eyes. Christ’s power is PERFECTED in weakness. The implication being that our weaknesses – our not being ok – has the potential for Christ’s power to flourish. Turns out that leading with a limp isn’t a bad thing; actually, it can be the most beautiful thing in the world when it shows off his strength.
By no means am I saying leaders shouldn’t be held accountable; they absolutely should AND will be (see James’ sobering warning in James 3). But the reality I learned, am still learning, is how to keep leading whenever I experience a new limp.
To my fellow friends in ministry, remember:
We are not superheroes.
We will have problems.
Seek wise counsel.
Hire a Godly therapist.
Have a meeting(s) with your pastor/boss.
Tell your spouse or some trusted friends.
Rather than thinking every minute imperfection disqualifies you from ministry, learn how to let your weaknesses drive you to Jesus.
Keep walking.
Keep leaning on Jesus as you lead.
Limping towards a finish line is better than not finishing at all.
Elita and her husband Ryan live in the lower mainland of BC with their four wild but wonderful young kids. As a writer and Bible teacher, she has served in ministry for the last 10 years. Elita currently serves on the teaching and pastoral teams at The Way, a church plant located in the heart of Vancouver.