A Theology of Ministry Heartbreak
Heartbreak isn’t just something we reserve for romance. It shows up when you’ve invested yourself, when you’ve given your heart, when you’ve dared to imagine a future. For ministers, heartbreak often comes in the context of calling.
Searching for a new church or ministry context isn’t quick or easy, it’s slow, like courting or dating a ministry, discerning whether a covenant relationship is going to work, you can love it, but if it isn’t healthy or sustainable, then you’d be unwise to go further. To do it properly, it takes months of prayer, conversations, interviews, preaching visits, personal investment, and perhaps crucially, advice from wise counsel. Somewhere along the way, you begin to fall in love with a people, with a place, with the possibilities of what God could do through you together.
And sometimes, after all of that, the answer is no. Your heart might scream yes, they might be equally enthusiastic, but if it’s not sustainable, and everyone around you is encouraging you away from the opportunity, then maybe this covenant isn’t meant to be.
That’s where I found myself. I had been offered a role at a wonderful church, with good people and a bright vision. The church had the struggle of having sold its manse to sustain itself, and wasn’t able to meet the cost of living in their city. I was so ready to live simply, I found a basement apartment that I would make work, and I was ready to live there for the foreseeable future, to pour myself out for the gospel in that community knowing full well that the chances of my salary increasing to provide for life and family were incredibly low. It took outside advice to snap me out of the romance—when I listened to the wisdom of mentors, seasoned pastors, even denominational leaders—the flags I had ignored started to show more clearly. It wasn’t sustainable. I could have gone, but I wouldn’t have lasted. The advice from every corner was the same: don’t go.
It was the first pastoral call I’ve ever declined. And it broke my heart.
Why heartbreak is holy
Scripture never pretends heartbreak doesn’t exist. Israel felt it in exile, longing for home (Psalm 137). Paul felt it when he wrote of his “great sorrow and unceasing anguish” for his own people (Romans 9:2). And Jesus himself, looking out over Jerusalem, wept (Luke 19:41).
The truth is this: heartbreak is holy because it means we loved. The only way to avoid heartbreak is to avoid love, and that’s not the way of Christ. Heartbreak is holy because God determined it was necessary to create humanity with freedom and choice, God chose to create us, knowing we’d reject him, knowing that his Son would be nailed to the cross to overcome that rejection and rebellion, and knowing that even with that sacrifice, many would continue to reject his love. No one knows heartbreak the way our Father knows heartbreak.
C.S. Lewis put it bluntly in The Four Loves:
“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken.” (C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves, HarperOne, 2017 edition, p. 121)
What heartbreak teaches us
Heartbreak doesn’t feel like a gift, but it does teach us.
Heartbreak is a mark of love. Jesus wept at Lazarus’ tomb even knowing resurrection was moments away (John 11:35). The tears meant he truly loved.
Heartbreak refines calling. Sometimes the Spirit guides not through open doors but away from closed ones. Paul himself was “forbidden by the Spirit” from entering Asia (Acts 16:6). The “no” is as holy as the “yes.”
Heartbreak is not the end. Jeremiah’s words to the exiles, written to a heartbroken people, still ring true: God’s plans are “to give you a future and a hope” (Jeremiah 29:11).
Sharing in Christ’s heartbreak
At its deepest level, heartbreak is a participation in Christ. Isaiah called him “a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief” (Isaiah 53:3). To walk with him is to know both joy and sorrow, both hope and heartbreak.
When we feel heartbreak in ministry, it reminds us this was never about career progression. Ministry is covenant love—for God, for people, for the gospel. Sometimes the covenant means staying. Sometimes it means letting go.
One Last Thought
A recruiter once told me, “It’s better to break up while you’re still dating than after you’re married.” That’s true in relationships, and it’s true in ministry. Saying no early may be the most faithful act you can do—for yourself, for the church, and for the kingdom.
And when your heart breaks in the process, remember: it is not wasted. It is a sign you dared to love, and a place where Christ himself promises to meet you.