On May 15, I was listening to a sermon via podcast by Adrian Rogers. Something he said seemed too good not to share. So, I opened my Facebook app and shared the quote with a personal reflection.

A few days after that, a lady posted a comment underneath my original post. To folks who didn’t know her, it seemed cryptic, like there was more to the story. But to me, it immediately got my blood boiling. I asked the Lord’s forgiveness, and then blocked her from my Facebook account. Why? Because I refuse to allow my page to be a free microphone to people who hide behind a keyboard as they try to harm others while only giving half (or less) of a story.

First, I’ll share the post but I’ve hidden her name and blurred her picture (my purpose is not to harm her). Second, the rest of the story. And third, some final reflections.

The pastor she was talking about was me.

But she conveniently left out quite a bit. I’m so glad I journal so I can often look back and see what actually happened.

Yes, she came to me with marital problems a few months after I arrived as the new pastor of her church. She periodically called me to share some of the specific struggles she had in her marriage. I prayed with her over the phone and repeatedly told her that I was willing to come to her home and speak with both her and her husband. I despise it when marriages fall apart and always want to think that I can play a small part in mending a broken marriage.

Her periodic phone calls (about once every month or two) were soon dwarfed by COVID. Any pastor will tell you that the Spring of 2020 was a nightmare. Church facilities were completely empty on Sunday mornings and pastors wondered how many of them would ever come back. Further, every pastor knows that virtually every decision he made during that time (masks vs. no masks; meet vs. don’t meet; etc.) would potentially split the congregation down the middle – half agree with him and the other half opposed.

So, during the Spring and Summer of 2020, I was trying to lead a church through a very dark time while ministering to church members’ individual needs – including the lady with the marital problems.

After she finally got her husband’s approval for a meeting with me, we set a date (July 6, 2020). Because of some concerns, I asked a deacon to go with me to their house on that day. As we began to talk, I quickly realized that their marriage issues were too far gone.

That is often the case. A pastor usually isn’t brought into a marital problem until the bags are virtually packed. The divorce papers are ready to be signed, but they want to be able to say that even the pastor couldn’t fix it, so they call him up at the last possible moment. Given the pride of the human heart and each spouse’s desire not to continue feeling hurt, reconciliation is virtually impossible when a couple finally calls a pastor.

I continued to speak periodically with her on the phone from time to time and prayed for her.

In January 2021, she called me to say she was moving out. I had previously told her that folks at the church stood ready to help her if needed. So, she called to ask for men to show up to help load all of her things into a large U-Haul truck. I sent a message out to the men of the church – and only two of us showed up. A deacon and I busted our tails moving heavy furniture and making dozens and dozens of trips back and forth from the house to the back of the truck until it was finally loaded.

The place she moved to was over an hour away from the church (she stopped attending after she moved). She continued to call, treating me like her pastor and expecting the deacons to continue to minister to her. So, I encouraged her to find a local church where she could become part of a Christian family that could be there to help her. I offered to help her with that search. She was speaking of emotional struggles, so I offered to help her find a local Christian counselor if she desired.

And to my surprise, she started aiming her anger and frustration at me. All that I had done and was doing was not enough. She wanted someone to be upset with, and since I appeared to be one of the few who were giving her an ear, I became the object of her anger.

In my estimation, I went above and beyond what a pastor was to do. But with some folks, no matter what you do, it’s never enough. And when they get a chance, as they continue to violate Jesus’ commands involving forgiveness (Matthew 18:21-35), feeling entitled (Luke 17:7–10), and so much more, they hide behind a keyboard and fire at the one person who actually tried to help them.

I believe this sort of thing is what sheds light on John 2:23-25.

John 2:23-25 (CSB): “While he was in Jerusalem during the Passover Festival, many believed in his name when they saw the signs he was doing. Jesus, however, would not entrust himself to them, since he knew them all and because he did not need anyone to testify about man; for he himself knew what was in man.”

Essentially, people were trusting Jesus, but Jesus wasn’t trusting them. Jesus was fully trustworthy so their trust in Him was well-placed. But Jesus knew human nature. So, He set up a boundary regarding trust in others that He only crossed if it was prudent.

So, my friend, if your pastor (or anyone else you know) feels like they remain a bit distant from everyone, it may be because they have been hurt before and have learned to set boundaries. When boundaries become walls that shut people out, that can be a problem. But healthy boundaries acknowledge that some people are not worthy of trust so the relationship can only go so far.

Anyway, I suspect that if you have read to the end of this post, you have also been hurt by someone and know what it’s like to set up boundaries as a result of that hurt. Feel free to leave comments or counsel in the “Comments” section below. I always try to respond to each one.