Quit Pastoring Your Church
“If you are reading this and wondering about becoming a pastor, this is the point where you think twice. I love my job. But there is a vulnerability I experience that is both exciting and terrifying. You cannot fake this job and live at peace.” (page 48)
As it turns out, authoring a book like the one I wrote has also been an experience of vulnerability and terror.
When I began writing this book five years ago it was mostly about wanting to capture some of my memories before forgetting them. I called it a “book,” but didn’t think much of it ever being published. It was more about just getting things out and recording them without much thought for what would happen next. Mostly I thought it might make a good gift for my kids someday or perhaps a sort-of historical reflection for my church. This means in those early days of writing it was more journal/diary/memoir. As the project progressed and as others started encouraging its completion and the idea of publishing, it started to take on a different shape, looking more like it does today.
As time moved along and the writing, editing, and shaping of the book came together, it slowly moved from journal/diary/memoir to project. And like many projects, by the end, you just want to get it done. While writing was always a good and fruitful experience, it became a task. None of this is out of the ordinary, I have found. Every author I’ve talked with through this experience has expressed the same thing. Writing a book doesn’t happen quickly for most, especially when it’s not your main gig. It takes a lot of time and commitment. I’m sure many good books die before completion. And I know first hand that without the encouragement and support of those around you, it doesn’t stand a chance.
All of this means that the last year has been a journey of editing, tweaking, re-working, reading my own words over and over again, listening to feedback, working with the publisher, figuring out a cover design, getting an ISBN, finding endorsements, photoshoots, budgeting, and more nuts and bolts of the publication process. And after all of this, I don’t know how authors even remember what they wrote. Like I said, it’s a task — in my case one that took five years — and you just want it to be completed.
This is why the last few weeks have been a bit jarring. Because the book is published. Remarkably people have purchased it. And read it. And many of these people have sent me messages commenting on its content. Thankfully all positive (so far). In fact, it’s been a very humbling and encouraging experience. BUT… the responses have reminded me of the book’s content. The story within the book has always been a window into my life: my failures, moments of darkness, doubts, fears, and mental health struggles. As mentioned, so much of my purpose in writing was to capture memories and stories I didn’t want to lose. And most of those stories come from a place of vulnerability and pain. Whether it was disclosing my failure as a tree planter back in my college days or letting the world into my darkest days of suicidal depression, it’s all in there. So now that I’m getting responses from people mentioning those aspects of the story, I’m realizing — perhaps foolishly — for the first time that I’ve opened up the file on Aaron Gerrard for all to see. I feel a bit exposed. I’ve always been a fairly open book (no pun intended), but that’s been with people I know. And usually face to face. This is something very different.
Of course, there’s no one to blame but me. I wrote it. I worked to get it published. What on earth did I think was happening? But now it’s all become very real.
But here’s the thing I’m already seeing happen in the first weeks of the book’s publication: vulnerability breeds vulnerability. Opening ourselves up — which is a risk and as we all know doesn’t always go well — is so often the fertile ground of healing. As I mention in the book, bringing things into the light is the only way darkness is destroyed. Darkness cannot exist in the light. Writing it down, saying it aloud, sharing it with others: this is so often what breaks the darkness in our lives or at least begins the process towards light and new life. While vulnerable and terrifying, opening ourselves up is where the Spirit so often does her best work. Spirit sees our vulnerability as the possibility for the truth to set us free. What is so clear from most of my stories in the book is that this usually isn’t an easy process, but it’s so liberating. So good.
Just yesterday I received this message from someone who’d just finished reading the book and was telling me about things they’re learning. “My eyes have been opened especially to how gentle, caring, and considerate God is as he relates to us as his children.” And that’s the truth of how Spirit will care and work with us as we open ourselves up to him and each other. There is something so sweet and gentle in that space of difficult vulnerability and truth-telling.
May you be encouraged to let in the light. Open up. Take the risk. Talk to a friend. Talk to Spirit. Embrace the terrifying vulnerability where on the other side is truth, liberation, and light.
Join us for the Virtual Book Launch of Quit Pastoring Your Church on January 28, 2021.
