One of the occupational hazards of being a pastor is sometimes your words come back to you. Pastors talk a lot. Pastors often give counsel. Pastors instruct, teach, and preach. With all this talking, there are many directives and admonitions given. And so, it is not uncommon for someone to start a conversation with me with the words, “Pastor, you said.”

In the past week, this has happened twice. One was a comment made without recognizing that they were rebuking me, and the other was a direct and clear corrective word. Both were received as precious blessings and profound encouragements.

I recently read that the average length of service for pastors in Protestant churches in America is about four years. If accurate, it makes sense why so much of the advice to pastors concerning church leadership seems to be directed to the early years of ministry. From seminary professors to denominational leaders, I have often heard encouragements to pursue a long pastoral tenure. These encouragements often included descriptions of the benefits that come from long tenures. In last week's blog post, I wrote on eight blessings I have experienced after pastoring Central Baptist Church for over ten years. But I have also discovered that having pastored here for more than a decade has also brought some burdens. Here are three burdens that have come from pastoring Central Baptist Church over ten years.

A successful pastorate is as much dependent on the church as it is on the pastor. Since 2012 I have been privileged to pastor Central Baptist Church in Waycross, GA. There have been seasons of great joy and great sorrow, but there has not been a day I was not thankful for this fellowship. Recently, I have been reflecting on how pastoral ministry differs once you pass the 10-year point. Below are my observations of eight blessings that have come from pastoring CBC over ten years.

Preaching the gospel is a strange thing. Observing from a human perspective, it seems rather simple and powerless. And yet, the humble appearance of preaching is in contrast to what Scripture declares it to be. Vested in the humble act of proclaiming the word of Christ is the power to save.

The church we attended while in seminary had a ministry at a local nursing home. They would send someone out each week to conduct Sunday services. Several times I was asked to lead these services and preach. It would just be me and someone who would play the piano. The nursing home staff would assemble the residents in the dining room where I would lead the singing of a hymn then preach. Some of the residents were aware that they were participating in the service, while others were not. Some would grow tired and fall asleep before I finished leading the service. I preached with all the effort and skill that I had but often wondered what real effectiveness or eternal impact I had.

My first solo hospital visit as a pastor did not go as planned. In fact, it went so badly that I hoped that the lady, whom I was visiting, did not remember the visit. I never even told her that I came to see her that day.

I was serving as an associate pastor of a little church while attending seminary. I was primarily responsible for student ministry. But on this occasion, our pastor was out of town, and I was covering the hospital visits. This was to be my first official pastoral visit. Sure, I had visited the hospital before, as well as gone with other pastors on such visits, but this was to be my first solo visit. I had no worries, why should I? Every other such visit I had been a part of seemed easy and tame. How could I have imagined that on that day, my experience would leave an indelible mark on my memory but one I would never reveal to the person I was visiting.