On February 27, 1860, a young statesman from Illinois stood before a packed crowd at Cooper Union in New York City. His topic? The end of slavery in America. Over the next few hours, this politician with no formal education proceeded to electrify the audience with his rhetoric and reasons for the abolition of slavery. He proposed that slavery was in fact against the spirit of American principles enshrined in the constitution. The speech was so riveting that later historians would call this the watershed moment for the young politician’s career. His name? Abraham Lincoln.

Lincoln was a great debater. His frontier debates with Stephen A. Douglas over the issue of slavery are legendary. The Cooper Union speech was no different. He was so well-received in New York that he was soon getting invitations to speak in other states. All of this publicity would undoubtedly help Lincoln achieve the Republican nomination for the presidency of the United States. There was one problem: Lincoln was nervous about speaking.

In an unpublished letter, written in response to an invitation by the New Jersey state Republican committee, Lincoln writes:

“I have over staid my time – have heard something about sickness in my family – and really am nervous and unfit to fill my engagement already made here in Connecticut. Will you please excuse me?’

This letter provides a window beyond the mythic invincibility of Abraham Lincoln. It reveals a man with self-doubts and anxiety about his one of his greatest giftings. Here was a man known for his legendary oration, and yet he felt uneasy about it. He felt “unfit.”

Pastors can sympathize with Lincoln. In many ways, what people see of us on Sunday morning rarely captures the agony and self-doubt we face in quieter moments. Even when congregants say, “Great job today pastor,” we are consistently asking ourselves, “Did I do a good job?” Pastors, it seems, are perpetually stuck in self-evaluation mode.

Self-evaluation is good. How else would Pastors gage their effectiveness? But as often happens, much like Lincoln, we naturally skew the results towards self-deprecation. We often replace “I can improve” with “I am unfit.” Why do pastors – and great individuals in history for that matter – wrestle with this question of “fitting in?”

God Loves A Misfit

Scripture repeatedly reveals a fascinating detail about God’s call: He consistently calls misfits to lead His people. Think about Moses, Gideon, Jonah, or David; none of these men seemed overly qualified to lead when God called them. Each of them had certain quirks or deficiencies. Moses could barely talk without stuttering (not to mention he was a murderer). Gideon was a skeptic. Jonah was stubborn. And David was a loner who tended sheep. These are not traits that conjure in us images of quality leaders. Consider Jesus. Who does he get to lead the Church? Primarily uneducated women and men, former prostitutes, murderers, thieves, and religious zealots. We are consistently confronted by an undeniable truth: God loves a misfit. So why do we wrestle with fitting in?

Comparing Ourselves with Other Misfits

Instagram and Facebook have revolutionized the way we communicate. But for all the beauty of instant connection, we are instantly connected with a mirror image of reality. The image of reality others want us to see. As pastors, we are tempted to look at other pastors as “having the right stuff.” Maybe those pastors have a big church with a big staff, great branding, and a state-of-the-art building. Is this really what we define as the “right stuff?” Nevertheless, we can look at other pastors as invincible to failure. “They must be doing something right,” we say, but such a statement suggests that we must be doing something wrong. In truth, the pristine pictures of “successful ministry” floating around social media betray a powerful truth: those successful pastors feel just as unfit for ministry.

Ashamed of My Gifts

In 2012, I began a six-year journey in youth ministry. By the time I completed that journey, I was one of the longest-serving youth pastors in my denomination. I felt completely unequipped and consistently felt like I did not fit. I was not loud, a bit nerdy, and unapologetically academic. These are not the traits we typically associate with vibrant youth ministries. I grew ashamed of my gifts. I grew ashamed of my desire to educate youth theologically rather than devotionally, my desire to mentor rather than entertain, and my desire to do worship services rather than game nights. Everything Think Orange, Hillsong, and other youth gurus were telling me was completely opposite of my temperament and gifts.

Time reveals the truth. Despite my feelings of being unfit, the reality of youth ministry defied my expectations. My kids were incredibly intelligent, not overly fond of game nights, and responded more effectively to mentorship. The truth is, I didn’t fit the typical image of youth ministry, but I fit the needs of my students. I wasn’t like pastor so-and-so running that vibrant ministry over there on Facebook. That was okay, I didn’t need to be. My students needed me to be Pastor Dave with all his quirks and imperfections. America didn’t need another well-educated, seasoned politician. America needed a self-educated, nervous misfit from Illinois. America needed an Abraham Lincoln.

The trap of comparison is a deadly game. It only reinforces the false narrative in our heads that we don’t belong. In truth, none of us belong, but we were called to the pastorate for reasons only God knows. When you tell Him that you’re not qualified, He says, “Don’t worry, you will be.” When you argue that you’re unequipped, He says, “You have my Spirit.” When you find every reason to back down, walk away, and throw in the towel, He says, “Let me help you complete the task.” If God knows our weaknesses, has he not provided sufficiently for them? Has He not decided that our weaknesses are truly His greatest asset? Sometimes our weaknesses are actually our greatest gifts to the Church. Don’t be ashamed of them.

In the end, you are called to where you are called. God has no interest in debating how “unfit” you are. If you study Scripture (which, as pastors, I am assuming you do) then you know God is probably using you precisely because you don’t fit  the mould of a pastor. This is simply the way God chooses to operate. You better get used to it.