By Elizabeth “Liz” Moore
November 29, 2023
“God,” Lauren prayed, “help us to know when it is time leave this work for the next thing. And when it is time, would you call us into something, anything, rather than just having us drift away from this work.”
We were in our second and final year of a fellowship program designed for post-college graduates who were discerning their vocation in youth ministry. The program was meant to give us some training for the work of youth ministry, as well as provide community for folks navigating faith into young adulthood. Truly, we needed all the help we could get sorting out the strangeness of becoming young adults while attempting to sort out calling and vocation.
I can’t exactly remember the context of this prayer of Lauren’s, only that we were a bunch of eager youth ministers on a retreat, which is to say, yeah, we prayed. What I do know is that almost 15 years later I still remember this prayer, and the wisdom in it has guided me through times of desolation and transition.
At the time, I remember thinking how strange it was that some of my friends were already considering leaving ministry after two years. Why would you leave the best job in the world? I wondered. I knew that the cost of the work was harder for some than others, but leaving was the furthest thing from my mind. I was just getting started.
Fast forward: leaving was all I could think about. Sure, I was tired from nearly a decade in campus ministry, but I loved youth ministry—I enjoy it still. Thinking about leaving looked more like daydreaming than quitting with a dramatic exit. I would find myself walking around my hometown of New Haven, daydreaming about studying theology—a daydream I knew most 20-somethings don’t have even if they consider themselves Christian.
Thinking about leaving looked more like daydreaming than quitting with a dramatic exit.
Realizing that God might be trying to get my attention, might indeed be calling me to something else, I started paying attention. I noticed where my mind would roam in these moments, paying attention to how exhausting the work felt and how I felt excited and hopeful at the prospect of graduate school. But would I know it was time to leave something I loved?
With my church community, with my friends, I started to discern what God was up to in my life. It took about a year to sort out that, yes, it seemed as though God was calling me to the next thing: theological education. And, I should add, not theological education as a means to a particular end. What would follow graduate school felt deliberately obscured for me, but I felt an invitation to “rest and play” by God through theological education. So, I went.
Fast forward: once again, I was considering leaving meaningful work that I felt called to and wanted to flourish. Only, I wasn’t doing well myself. This time, I was discerning closing a church plant that I had been leading. This time, the stakes of leaving were higher—if I left, the plant would close—but the cost of staying was crushing. I wondered if the problem was me. Did I lack the faith that God could make this happen? Was I disappointing my team by even thinking of leaving? Was God disappointed in me?
While my theology told me, for example that God wasn’t disappointed in me, my emotions said otherwise. I knew that I needed external help to unravel the knot of my faith, vocation, and work. I started meeting with a ministry coach and a spiritual director to help me with measurable tasks and remind me of God’s kindness toward me. Once again, along with my team, I decided on a year of discernment to see what God was up to in my life and in my church’s life.
This year of discernment required me to examine the cost of ministry on my mental health, my physical health, and my financial health. I asked friends and church family how they really thought I was doing—that they could support me by telling me the truth. I prayed and I cried, often at the same time. Before I could begin to imagine what could be next, I had to take serious stock of where I was emotionally and learn to parse, with help, the differences between the challenges of ministry and unintentional organizational harm.
I chose this process of discernment because I wanted a “third way” of leaving. Something between quiet quitting and the martyrdom of staying. Though it was clear that I needed change, I also needed time to start daydreaming with God again about what might be next, hear again from outside myself that God is gentle with the tenderhearted—a bruised reed God will not break. And in that time of discernment, I found my way to a job where I see my colleagues say in a variety of ways “help is on the way” to beleaguered folks working in ministry. God is funny like that.
Though it was clear that I needed change, I also needed time to start daydreaming with God again about what might be next
Perhaps, you also need a “third way” of leaving. A way of leaving that invites your loved ones to tell you what they see and seasoned experts/professionals to advise you on how things could be. A way of leaving where, though things have been difficult, you can still celebrate the work that God has done within you and through you and be glad for the work that God will continue beyond you. A way of leaving where we can rest in our belovedness and hear echoed back to us the ways we are known and loved by God as we are called into the next thing.
One final note: You may be thinking of leaving and feel in your bones that you do not have the luxury of a process of leaving—if so, get out! But I sincerely hope that you won’t venture into the next chapter alone. We need each other—especially in the holy moments that follow a courageous act, a sorrowful hour, or a win (of any size) demanding celebration. May God send you the community you need.
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Elizabeth “Liz” Moore, Assistant Director of the Institute for Youth Ministry
Liz (she/her) is the assistant director of the Institute for Youth Ministry at Princeton Theological Seminary, where she oversees the Certificate in Youth and Theology Program and develops training and resources for youth workers. Liz has more than a decade of experience in youth ministry and pastoral leadership, most recently with the Vineyard. A sought-after teacher and preacher, Liz is passionate about listening, prayer, sustainable ministry, and social change. Liz is also an accomplished cook and believes in the profound connection between ministry and hospitality. She holds a BA in Religious Studies from Trinity College in Connecticut and an MDiv from Duke Divinity School.
