Precision Pastoring: Nourishing the Caregiver’s Soul

Precision Pastoring: Nourishing the Caregiver’s Soul

With their deep understanding of the brutal realities of my life and the potential dangers that lurk, my pastors do not “motivate” me; they shepherd me. Modeling “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God” (Deuteronomy 8:3,  Matthew 4:4). They preach the whole counsel of God provided in the Scriptures.

“Are we serving you well?”

The unexpected question from two pastors caught me off guard, prompting a moment of reflection. As pastors of a large Nashville church, their humility in asking about their ministry’s impact on my life deeply touched me. Despite being one of several thousand members, their concern for my well-being amidst the challenges I faced as the sole caregiver for my wife with severe disabilities was both surprising and humbling.

The context, however, contained the impetus. As the sole caregiver for my wife with severe disabilities and a medical history that now spans forty years and 85+ operations, they recognized the strain on my life. They also knew that our circumstances would not get easier with age and that my wife’s broken body and amputated limbs would not be reversed this side of Heaven.

Reflecting on what they inquired, I answered them in a way that seemed to surprise them.

“I am in the congregation and listen to every one of your sermons—and you know my challenges. If your preaching and teaching don’t effectively help me better understand the Gospel and how it applies to my life as a caregiver, then what’s the point of the message?

As they listened intently, I explained, “My journey as a caregiver is all-encompassing and spans a lifetime. I know how to “care-give,” but do I know how to live? Do I understand the principles and precepts of scripture as they apply to me as someone who watches someone suffer daily? What do I do with fear, guilt, despair, and a host of other issues that caregivers feel?

While the men nodded with understanding, I concluded, “Your clear, concise, and precise teaching of the scriptures is what equips me to endure—this is how you are caring for me.”

Those pastors, whom I count as dear friends, still invest in my life even though I moved across the country several years back. With great clarity and sincerity, they spoke to the heart issue I bear—and that all caregivers carry: We struggle with a good and loving God who allows the suffering and misery we often see daily.

That conversation with those pastors remains a seminal moment in my understanding of effective pastoral care for hurting congregants. Despite a question that might have opened the door to criticism, their simple inquiry led to “precision pastoring.”

I’ve heard too many pulpits preach a message of “You’re going to get your breakthrough” or “Your challenges are a set-up to a step-up” style sermons. Bluntly speaking, those kinds of topical, motivational messages with a “Jesus” flair mean nothing to me—nor to the thousands of caregivers I’ve talked to over the years.

Jesus told Peter to “feed my sheep,” not entertain or inspire them.

Our friends who live near our home in Montana run a ranch filled with cattle, sheep, and goats. During the lambing season, I love to stop and watch the baby goats and lambs playfully hop, prance, and dance around while their cautious mothers watch them, ensuring they stay in line and safe from harm. During this vulnerable time, they remained protected from predators within an oversized pen. At the pen’s center lies a large circular feeder, where the ewes gather around to fuel themselves with ample hay deposits to meet their young’s demanding needs.

The new mothers require lots of sustenance to meet the extreme needs of nursing and protecting their babies. When the weather is cold, and the sheep are at their most vulnerable while giving birth, the watchful ranchers feed and protect them. In warmer weather, they move to pastures where they can live a little more independently.

Numerous accounts share how our savior referred to himself as the shepherd and us as the sheep. I can’t imagine the apostle Peter not understanding the context of raising sheep while listening to Jesus’ command.

Our rancher friends provide an up-close view of “precision shepherding.” Their ranch’s survival depends upon properly feeding the sheep quality food—particularly during harsh climates. If the power goes out, the water troughs can freeze—and during Montana’s often brutal winter climate, the ice requires breaking, a backup generator, or all sorts of other emergency tasks to ensure the livestock’s survival. During those vulnerable times, the ranchers don’t motivate the sheep; they intensely care for them. They only “motivate” them during the warm, relaxed time when they move them from pasture to pasture.

With their deep understanding of the brutal realities of my life and the potential dangers that lurk, my pastors do not “motivate” me; they shepherd me. Modeling “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God” (Deuteronomy 8:3 & Matthew 4:4). They preach the whole counsel of God provided in the Scriptures.

They help me better understand (and anchor my life) in God’s sovereignty, provision, and faithfulness, strengthening my faith to trust Him with the daily grind of my life. They actively engaged, protected, fed, and nourished me with a profound understanding of the Gospel, providing the sustenance that has carried me through the most challenging times.

They still do.

Peter Rosenberger hosts the nationally syndicated radio program, Hope for the Caregiver. His newest book is A Minute for Caregivers—When Every Day Feels Like Monday. www.HopeforTheCaregiver.com

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