Pastors often carry personal burdens no one sees. We counsel, preach, visit, pray, and lead even when it feels like our own lives are unraveling.

We rejoice in answered prayers, but wonder why our suffering continues. We preach resurrection victory, while struggling to hold onto hope.

I experienced such a season during my ministry.

My son, Joey, grew up in church and had a vibrant faith. As a teenager, he hosted Bible studies and consistently made good choices.

But after leaving home as a young adult, Joey suffered a series of crises and began to spiral. His mental health declined, and he turned to substances to cope. In time, Joey became an alcoholic and drug addict.

My husband, Adam, and I prayed constantly. We intervened, talked with Joey, offered resources and support, and did everything we could to help.

At one point, Joey recommitted his life to Christ and came home to be baptized in water. It felt like the breakthrough for which we had been praying.

Just days later, however, we learned Joey was binge drinking and unable to function sober. We drove to his apartment, hoping our son would agree to get the professional help he needed.

Walking into Joey’s bedroom was one of the most jarring experiences of my life. The smell of alcohol hung in the air, and drug paraphernalia littered the floor. On the door hung a picture our daughter had painted of Joey’s favorite childhood cartoon character.

It was a painful juxtaposition of who our son had been and how addiction was changing him.

My mind went back to a prayer I had written in my journal months earlier: “God, even if it’s scary, do whatever it takes to save our boy.”

Although hesitant, Joey knew he needed help. We sat with him in his apartment as withdrawal and sickness began, our hearts breaking.

The next day, our church was launching its Kingdom Builders missions initiative. It was one of the biggest events of the year for the ministry department I lead.

I walked into church exhausted and emotionally drained, doing my best to function as if nothing was happening in my personal life.

The weight became too much, so instead of walking into a meeting with volunteers, I stepped into a co-worker’s office and cried.

I felt like I was falling apart. Yet even then, God was teaching me valuable lessons as I served and sowed with tears.

Faithfulness

Faithfulness rarely seems victorious in the moment. Many times, it means showing up when you’d rather disappear, and returning to God even when you feel empty.

Joey soon entered rehab. It was a difficult time for all of us. For days, Adam and I couldn’t speak with our son. We worried Joey would quit and relapse. We waited and prayed, continually surrendering the situation to God.

Meanwhile, I kept pastoring — helping others through crises, preparing missions teams, and teaching Scripture.

Ministry doesn’t exempt us from difficulties. Jesus himself is the ultimate example.

Hebrews 4:15 says, “We do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are — yet he did not sin.”

Following Jesus’ baptism — when heaven opened and the Father declared, “This is my son, whom I love” — the Spirit led Him into the wilderness to face temptation (Matthew 3:16–4:1).

Jesus’ identity was affirmed in the water, but His faithfulness was demonstrated in the wilderness.

Faithfulness to His redemptive mission took Jesus all the way to the Cross, which He endured “for the joy set before him” (Hebrews 12:2).

Trust

One of the greatest challenges in any spiritual journey is managing expectations. We anticipate certain outcomes on specific timelines, expecting God to move in familiar ways. When those expectations don’t align with reality, frustration grows.

Faith never gives up. It keeps taking steps of obedience even when it’s difficult.

In our missions team meetings, I often repeat the acronym MARF: Maintain Absolute Rigid Flexibility. It’s a tongue-in-cheek way of reminding volunteers to release their plans to God.

This is not passivity, but surrender. Letting go of our agendas creates room for God to move in ways we didn’t predict.

When Adam was diagnosed with kidney cancer, he said, “It’s a win-win. If I die, I get to be with Jesus. If I live, I get to be with family.”

Adam’s motto became, “We need to trust God’s character more than we trust His plans.”

Releasing expectations doesn’t mean letting go of hope. It means staying hopeful without demanding a specific outcome and trusting that God is working even when we don’t see or understand.

In Scripture, Abraham carried a promise for years before Isaac’s birth. Hannah prayed and clung to hope through tears. David, already anointed as king, slept in caves and tried to make sense of God’s timing. The apostle Paul wrestled with unanswered prayer as he asked God repeatedly to remove the thorn that remained.

These stories serve as reminders that waiting isn’t a detour from spiritual formation. It’s often where God does His deepest work.

Waiting seasons force us to wrestle with uncomfortable questions: Am I trusting my timeline or God? Do I want the Lord’s will or my plan? Is God good only when life feels good?

These questions don’t shame us; they mature us.

Psalm 103:14 says God “remembers that we are dust.” He knows our frailty. Instead of demanding perfection, God asks us to trust in His.

Honesty

Authenticity is not weakness, but witness. It’s one of the most powerful forms of discipleship and evangelism.

People are desperate for what is real. They don’t need pastors who pretend to be unshaken. They are looking for leaders who will show them what it looks like to cling to Jesus amid the shaking.

When we are honest about our fears, exhaustion, and questions, we make room for the Spirit to work. Our testimony becomes something God will use — not only in us, but through us.

Obedience

During times of crisis, emotional paralysis often creeps in. We hesitate to take any action because we’re afraid of doing the wrong thing.

When I walk with someone through a difficult decision, we return to the same anchoring questions: What honors God? What does Scripture say? What wise counsel are other believers offering?

After prayerfully working through those questions, it’s time to take a step — not recklessly, but obediently.

Galatians 6:9 says, “Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”

Faith never gives up. It keeps taking steps of obedience even when it’s difficult.

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Sowing with tears can look far more ordinary than we might imagine. It’s often a matter of showing up, doing the right thing, trusting God’s timing and plan, living authentically, and following the Spirit’s lead.

God’s goodness, steadiness, and presence do not waver even when circumstances leave us feeling overwhelmed.

Staying the course in life and ministry is less about holding everything together and more about holding on to the One who does.

I’m thrilled to share that Joey is now sober, serving Jesus, and attending church. He shares his testimony with unsaved friends and is planning to participate in two missions trips during 2026.

The story isn’t finished — not for my son, not for Adam or me, and not for the people we lead. We may not know the next chapter, but we can trust the Author who is working in all things for our good (Romans 8:28).

Psalm 126:5 says, “Those who sow with tears will reap with songs of joy.”

This article appears in the Winter 2026 issue of Influence magazine.