My Dear Shepherds,

I had no inkling—when we first unloaded eight sheep into the fields at Knoll Farm nearly twenty-five years ago—of the impact that learning to be a shepherd would have on me.[1]

Pastors know that feeling. Now here we are, some of you with only a couple of years under your belt and others of us old shepherds needing our staff to lean on more than we need it to manage the sheep. But one thing is true for all of us—we’re thankful to God for the impact being a shepherd has had on us, for what we’ve seen God do among the people we’ve pastored.

In almost every letter Paul wrote to churches and fellow pastors he thanked God for them. (Galatians was the exception, and some pastors know that feeling too!) Like you, I’m thankful for each flock I’ve served, including that first unruly youth group. But Paul’s thanksgiving had a focus I tend to forget. He thanked God for what only the gospel had made possible. For example:

We always thank God for all of you and continually mention you in our prayers. We remember before our God and Father your work produced by faith, your labor prompted by love, and your endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ. (1 Thess. 1:2–3)

Other people may reminisce about the work their team accomplished, the relationships they enjoyed, and the ways they persevered, but what fuels our gratitude to God is how such things, done in league with brothers and sisters in Christ, got their unique gospel boost. We thank God because his grace, truth, and power made our lives together eternally productive. I’ve been reading lately a little about the building of the pyramids, but they have nothing over the quiet, mighty miracles of God we’ve seen among the people we’ve served.

What accomplishments do you recall through your Christian fellowship that only came to pass because God answered your prayers of faith (even when your faith was flimsy)? Remember when your Christian love prompted that ESL class, the outreach to the neighborhood kids, the sacrificial giving to fund the homeless shelter, or your ministry at the nursing home. Stir up those memories and be thankful.

And how about memories of “endurance inspired by our hope in our Lord Jesus Christ,” those fellow believers who persevered through terrible illness, tortured relationships, or seemingly fruitless seasons of ministry because they (and you) trusted that God’s promises were true and hearing his “well done” would make it worthwhile?

I have a clock set in a wide, weathered board from a South Dakota snow fence. I carved into it the words, “Things take time.” It hung in my study as a pastoral reminder. We thank God that, however slow the start or modest the work he gives us, we can

. . . always pray with joy, because of your partnership [koinonia] from the first day until now, being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. (Phil. 1:4b–6)

I know you’re grateful for those partners and friends with whom you’ve shared ministry over the years. We all have stories about those whose spiritual gifts and talents blended beautifully with ours, those who held up our weary arms with their prayers and presence, those whose faith shaped and fortified our own, and those whom we will meet again on that great Day! (I’d love to hear one of your favorite stories: leeeclov@gmail.com.)

Be ye glad!

[1] Helen Whybrow, The Salt Stones: Seasons of a Shepherd’s Life.

Lee Eclov recently retired after 40 years of local pastoral ministry and now focuses on ministry among pastors. He writes a weekly devotional for preachers on Preaching Today.