Compelling: Managing Three Key Emotions of Leadership Succession

By John Hampton

Early in my ministry, I read James Dobson’s Emotions: Can You Trust Them?  

*Spoiler alert: you can’t.  

His central claim was simple: “Don’t believe everything you feel.” As a young preacher, I took that to heart and tried to ignore or downplay any feelings of sadness, anger, or fear.  

**Second spoiler alert: that doesn’t work . . . at least not for long.  

Suppressing emotions is like holding a beach ball underwater; eventually they resurface, often at unexpected and unhelpful times.  

Over time I learned that, while emotions shouldn’t be the dominant voice in my life, understanding them is a wise choice for my life. Emotions can help us intelligently interpret how significant life events are affecting us, especially one as profound as stepping aside from a long-held ministry role. A 2023 Barna Group report revealed that one-quarter of American pastors hope to retire in the next seven years. That transition stirs powerful emotions, and if those emotions go unrecognized or unprocessed, they can overwhelm us.  

Three emotions were particularly striking when I stepped aside from local church leadership. 

Sadness 

Even with a carefully planned succession, leaving a role I held for over 42 years brought more grief than I expected. Pastoral succession has been described as attending a wedding and a funeral simultaneously. There is excitement for the future under a new leader, but there is grief for the beloved leader who steps aside. The deeper the connection with the congregation, the stronger the sadness.  

That sadness often shows itself in subtle ways: your name disappearing from the website, walking into the building without stepping onto the stage, hearing a sermon series you didn’t help shape, or watching the church thrive without you. At other times, the grief cuts deeper, such as when struggles arise after your departure, or even worse, seeing the successor you trusted and the church you loved part ways.  

Sadness is not weakness; it signals the strength of your bonds and the depth of your calling. As my counselor said about sadness, “Don’t turn from it. Learn from it.” Almost every pastor I know has an ungrieved loss, an unhealed wound, or an unforgiven offense. Each carries a unique sadness that can teach us a great deal about what’s happening in us and what God wants to do through us.  

Confusion and Uncertainty  

Pastors often learn to operate on “leadership adrenaline,” a drive to solve, share, start, or stop something. Losing that role can leave you bewildered about what comes next, how to use your gifts, or your relationship with the church you are leaving. Kenton Beshore, longtime pastor of Mariners Church, said to a group of soon-to-be-retiring pastors, “I used to be able to pick up the phone and make stuff happen!” Letting go of that influence is difficult for almost every leader. 

To manage this emotional bundle, consider four areas: 

• Where can you solve something with your accumulated experience and distinctive skills? 

• Where can you share something you’ve learned, lived, and loved? 

• Where can you start something using your years of “crystallized intelligence” to make a kingdom difference? 

• Where can you stop something—biblical illiteracy, shallow preaching, shoddy leadership, dysfunctional governance—that will help churches thrive? 

Every exit is an entry somewhere else. John Maxwell said, “Never (just) leave something. Go to something. There’s a difference between ‘I have to leave because I’m going to something else’ and ‘I have to leave because it’s over here and I have nothing else planned.’” 

Relief  

I was amazed at how quickly the stress and pressure I had felt for so long melted away when I stepped away. It wasn’t an overnight thing, but I felt relieved sooner than I expected, and I liked it!  

I recall a conversation I had with Bob Russell about preparing for retirement. He smiled and said, “You won’t miss the pressure, John.” Whether you lead a church of thousands, as Bob did, or a church of dozens, there is a unique pressure to preach, pastor, produce, and prioritize well week after week, and it never goes away. Someone said, “Pastoring can feel like you are responsible for everything and control nothing.” 

And that pressure has only intensified. Pastors today face constant volatility from political polarization, acts of violence motivated by hatred, inflammatory social media rhetoric, and the ongoing struggle to discern what to say, what not to say, how to say it, or whether anything should be said at all. It can leave pastors feeling frustrated and exhausted. I don’t miss that.  

But just because I don’t miss it doesn’t mean I didn’t love it. It simply means there comes a time to let someone else step in—bringing fresh energy, new strategies, and a Spirit-inspired vision to lead the church forward in ways I never could have imagined. 

Final Thoughts 

To suppress our emotions is to silence our soul and miss what God wants to say to us. 
We shouldn’t trust them without scrutiny, but we should listen to them with sensitivity and manage them with self-control, especially during the shifting season of succession. 

Recognizing sadness, navigating confusion and uncertainty, while also embracing relief, are key to a healthy leadership transition. By facing these emotions honestly, pastors can honor their legacies, steward their future opportunities, and allow God to speak through their experiences with authenticity—both to them and through them to the next generation of leaders. 

For over 42 years, John Hampton pastored churches in Kentucky, Mississippi, Ohio, and Florida. He now serves as Pastor Emeritus of Journey Christian Church and as the Program Director of the Compelling Preaching Initiative at the Christian Church Leadership Network. John and his wife, Melinda, live in Apopka, Florida, and have two children and three grandchildren