When It's Hard to Open Up

My husband and I were recently having a conversation one morning while I was busily buzzing around our kitchen putting away dishes. I don’t remember what the specific conversation was even about—probably nothing of any major consequence—but I looked up from what I was doing and noticed he seemed confused.

“What is it?” I asked. 

“It’s just, “he began, “You never finished your sentence. And I don’t think you recognize how many times you’ve been doing that lately. You start to say something while we’re having a conversation, and then just stop mid-sentence without completing the thought.”

I immediately started to recall conversations that we had shared together earlier in the day and discovered to my surprise that he was right—there were a handful of times that day in which my words would trail off without me finishing a complete thought. It was as if I was expecting him to fill in all the gaps because I assumed that he knew exactly what I was about to say—which is a horrible way to communicate with someone you love. 

I jokingly replied, “Well, of course! Can’t you read my mind?!”

It got me thinking about how so often, I tend to hope that my brothers and sisters in Christ know my husband and me well enough to know how we’re feeling or how we’re holding up with the pressures of ministry or just the stressors of everyday life; but the truth is, without us explicitly explaining how we feel, I cannot expect our church family to be able to read our minds and know the hurt our hearts are feeling. People don’t know what they don’t know, and they won’t know if we don’t share our feelings.

The problem is, of course, is that being vulnerable with your feelings can feel difficult when, as a minister’s wife, you recognize that your husband’s job could be negatively impacted if your words are misunderstood. It’s that very idea that can lead ministry leaders and their families to sometimes feel disconnected and discouraged because they feel the need to carry their burdens privately. Whether you want to consider it wisdom, fear, or a well-seasoned defense mechanism, I’ve certainly experienced moments myself in which I stopped myself mid-conversation while talking to friends at church to reel in my vulnerability a bit when worrying I’ve “said too much”. 

If this is something you are currently struggling with, Sister, may I attempt to encourage you for a moment?

Please know that you’re not alone in this complicated place—I will be the very first to acknowledge that finding the balance of communicating your heart without “rocking the boat”, so to speak, can often feel tricky when your husband is called to a church leadership role. But what I love so much about the group of ladies that write the articles that you receive in these emails each week is that, generally speaking, we “get it”—most likely, most of us have found ourselves in this uncomfortable place before, too. We are a sisterhood of sorts – not just through the redeeming blood of our Savior, which is, of course what it’s all about, but also a sisterhood of wives whose families have dedicated themselves to sharing the love of Christ through ministry. 

We understand. There may be times in which sharing deep and personal hurt with your friends at your home congregation might feel too difficult when emotions are high and feelings are raw…and when that happens, please know you have a safe space here to share your heart.

I also want to reassure you that your Shepherds and church family likely want to care for you on a deeper level than you might expect. I’ve found, often to my amazement, that when I’ve prayerfully allowed myself to open up about my personal struggles with trusted friends and mentors at church, I’ve almost always been met with open arms and deepened friendships. And the more I’ve experienced that grace, the more I’ve learned to feel more trusting and confident that I can do it again. 

Does this mean I’ll never feel disappointed in the way in which my burdens and vulnerability are received? Unfortunately, no—I can’t confidently say that, because my church family and church leadership are just as flawed and human as I am. 

I also recognize that “hurt people hurt people” and sometimes if I speak my hurt to friends before I go to the Father about it in prayer, I might do more damage than good for all parties involved. But God knows that as Christians, we need one another, and when one member of the Body of Christ is hurting, it won’t take long for the whole body to suffer over a festering wound. That must be why it seems that sharing one another’s burdens with gentleness and humility wasn’t just a suggestion when Paul made in his exhortation to the early church in Galatians 6:1-3, but rather an instruction to “obey the law of Christ”.

But how? My personal experience has taught me that I need to take my hurt to God in prayer first, and then prayerfully ask for wisdom and open doors to lead me to the right people within my church family who will listen and support me while I share what is burdening my heart (openly or privately, depending on the need). The Father is faithful to grant wisdom (James 1:5) when we ask for it—what a blessing!

The church this side of Heaven will never be perfect, but I’m convinced one of the biggest reasons God instituted it is for our personal benefit as his children. The encouragement and support we’re able to provide for one another as the body of Christ is unlike anything else on Earth, and that benefit is intended for you too, Sister. I’m rooting for you and ready with a listening ear if you need it.

Melissa Flanagan | Huntsville, AL