And yet, and yet…

Charles Spurgeon wrote in his Lectures to His Students an entire session on something he called the Minister’s “Fainting Fits.” It occupies the 11th lecture. I paused when I read that, thinking, “What does that mean?” While Spurgeon was partly referring to a lack of physical strength and weakness, in a greater fashion “fainting fits” referred to the depression that ministers so often face.

What is remarkable about Spurgeon’s thoughts on “fainting fits:” the first one he details is in the “hour of great success.” He goes on to say, “When at last a cherished desire is fulfilled, when God has been glorified greatly by our means, and a great triumph achieved, then we are apt to faint. It might be imagined that amid special favours our soul would soar to the heights of ecstasy and rejoice with joy unspeakable, but it is generally the reverse.” Further, “Excess of joy or excitement must be paid for by subsequent depressions.”

The above information seems ludicrous. Why would we not absolutely celebrate when we experience successes? Yet, as a pastor it is incredible how close this hits to my heart. Often after we’ve experienced a huge success or see a project come to a close, there follows for me something of a trough of emotion. It is a sad thing for those around me; they hope to celebrate success but can’t understand why the “fainting fit” hits. In the minds of most, this would be chalked up to an emotion that “nothing is ever good enough.” It can seem like cynicism or ingratitude. But it is a negative emotion that we can’t shake in the short term. The frustration is difficult.

Spurgeon does a great job covering how this works from Paul’s thorn (2 Corinthians 12) to Jacob’s hip (Genesis 32). There is a part of our hearts as ministers that we pour into the things we do. When we preach, when we serve, when we organize, when we encourage, when we mourn alongside, when we teach, when we press on, we give a portion of our hearts. By investing to that level, Spurgeon is absolutely correct that we’re left drained. This drain doesn’t come from despair, or for a lack of gratitude for the great things God has done. It is simply the backswing of what happens when we pour our affections into our ministry. Consider also Elijah’s journey from the mountaintop of his greatest success to run to the desert asking to die in 1 Kings 19. To every mountaintop success, there will be a desert to survive. For every piece of our hearts that we give away, there will be a time of recovery.

Stepping out of the spotlight, the backstage can be the darkest.

With this being the case, I exhort you: in moments of success, find a way to encourage a minister. Look beyond the circumstances to the person, to the heart. Lay down the plans of strategies to come and give them room to breathe. Encourage them to seek the Father in special ways after success. Love him/her as a person who has poured himself/herself into something so much greater.

It may seem odd to console those who have presided over massive success. But it may be that you can be that person to console the minister in the backstage with water for the journey and strength for tomorrow.

“‘Arise and eat, for the journey is too great for you.’ And Elijah rose and ate and drank, and went in the strength of that food forty days and forty nights to Horeb, the mount of God.” 1 Kings 19:7b-8 (ESV)