My daughter Sophia recently went through a heart procedure.

It was one of those seasons where everything feels slightly closer to the surface than usual. Where you are grateful, anxious, steady, exhausted, prayerful, and on edge… sometimes all in the same hour.

In the middle of that, Sophia said something so simple it almost stopped me in my tracks.

She looked at me and said:

“I’m excited and angry at the same time.”

No explanation. No attempt to resolve it. Just truth.

And I remember thinking, this is something children do so naturally, and something so many of us in leadership quietly unlearn.

Especially pastors.

Especially the ones who are always the steady presence for everyone else.

When your life is always held in service of others

If you’re in ministry, your days are often shaped by other people’s moments:

  • Their grief

  • Their marriages

  • Their questions

  • Their crises

  • Their breakthroughs

  • Their quiet in-between struggles

You become someone who holds space, steadies rooms, interprets Scripture, offers perspective, prays when words run out.

And over time, there can be a subtle internal pressure to simplify your own inner world so you can keep showing up for everyone else.

To be okay.
To be clear.
To be resolved.

But most pastors I know are not living simple emotional lives.

They are living layered ones.

Sophia’s unexpected pastoral insight

Sophia didn’t say her words as a lesson.

She said them because she was in it. Recovering, processing, noticing her own inner world without needing to fix it.

“I’m excited and angry at the same time.”

Both were true.

Neither needed to cancel the other out.

And I realized how often, in ministry contexts, we accidentally teach people the opposite:

That faith means choosing one feeling over another quickly enough to be “healthy.”
That hope replaces grief instead of sitting beside it.
That peace is only real when tension disappears.

But real life rarely works that cleanly.

And neither does real faith.

The quiet weight many pastors carry

There’s a version of leadership that is rarely named out loud:

The internal pressure to be emotionally coherent.

To not confuse people.
To not “over-share.”
To be the stable point in the room.

But inside that role, many pastors are holding:

  • Deep joy for what God is doing

  • Deep concern for what is still not okay

  • Personal fatigue they don’t fully articulate

  • Faith that is steady and still stretching

  • Gratitude and grief braided together

And the longer you lead, the more you learn how to carry contradictions without letting them spill into the spaces you serve.

But carrying them quietly is not the same as processing them well.

What it means to hold two things at once

Sophia’s sentence wasn’t theological language, but it holds deep pastoral wisdom:

“I’m excited and angry at the same time.”

Not “but.”
Not “or.”
Not “after I figure it out.”

Just both.

This is something we see reflected throughout Scripture as well:

  • Lament and trust

  • Fear and faith

  • Sorrow and praise

  • Confusion and devotion

The Bible doesn’t rush emotional resolution. It makes space for emotional honesty.

A different kind of pastoral presence

What if one of the most healing things we offer people isn’t resolution but permission?

Permission to be layered.

Permission to not sort themselves too quickly.

Permission to say things like:

  • “I love my life and I’m exhausted.”

  • “I believe God is good and I’m struggling.”

  • “I’m grateful and I’m grieving.”

Not as contradictions to fix, but as realities to hold.

Because sometimes the most pastoral thing we can do is not move someone out of tension too quickly.

It’s to stay with them inside it.

A word for the pastor reading this

You spend so much of your life helping other people name what they feel.

But you may not often be asked where you are carrying more than one thing at once.

So here is a gentle question, not as a task but as an invitation:

Where in your life are you holding two truths at the same time?

And what would it look like not to resolve them immediately… but to acknowledge them honestly?

You don’t have to become simpler to be faithful.

You don’t have to become resolved to be effective.

You don’t have to turn yourself into a conclusion.

A closing reflection

Sophia is still recovering from her heart procedure, and in many ways, so am I. I'm learning what it means to live in a season where clarity isn’t always immediate, and where gratitude and concern sit side by side.

Her words have stayed with me:

“I’m excited and angry at the same time.” Excited to move forward, closer to healing. Angry that she has something to heal from.

Maybe that’s not something to solve.

Maybe it’s something to honor.

And maybe, for those of you who are constantly holding space for everyone else, it’s also permission to remember:

You are allowed to be more than one thing at once.

 

About Sarah Proemsey & Love Your Story

Sarah Proemsey, LPCC, is the Founder and Clinical Director of Love Your Story Therapy, a Christian counseling practice serving children, teens, adults, couples, and ministry leaders throughout California. As a licensed therapist, pastor's wife of more than 20 years, and mom of three, Sarah is passionate about helping people embrace the whole of their story—with evidence-based care, compassionate support, and a faith that makes room for both hope and honesty. Through counseling, training, and practical resources, she equips pastors, parents, and families to navigate life's complexities with greater emotional health and deeper connection one chapter at a time.

At Love Your Story Therapy, we believe pastors deserve care, too. We provide faith-integrated counseling, assessment, and practical resources for pastors, ministry leaders, and their families throughout California. Because the people who spend their lives caring for others need spaces where they can be cared for, too.

Want to connect? Email sarah@loveyourstorytherapy.com or follow us on Instagram @loveyourstorytherapy.