Smile With Your Teeth
The hidden weight of ministry, and the courage it takes to stay
I love music, all kinds of it. Especially smaller, lesser-known bands that say something real. One of those bands for me is Gable Price and Friends. They have a song called “I Need You,” and the lyrics say:
“Smile with your teeth
Your bruises make a lovely accessory
Have some guts kid, this is ministry.”
A friend of mine sent me those lyrics this week, and they carried a weight I had not felt before.
Over the years, I have seen the highs and the lows in ministry. I have had moments where I thought, I could do this for the rest of my life. I have also had moments where, without the right people around me, I might have walked away. Welcome to ministry.
If you have been there, Galatians 6:9 stops sounding like a nice Christian slogan and starts sounding like oxygen: “Let us not get tired of doing good, for we will reap at the proper time if we don’t give up.” Some weeks, that is not a verse you underline. It is a verse you hang onto.
Ministry will mark you
I love ministry.
There is nothing like preaching the gospel, walking with people through pain, watching someone take a real step toward Jesus, or seeing life change up close. It is a privilege to do this work.
It is also costly.
Ministry will stretch you, expose you, and wear on parts of you that people never see. It will hand you joy and heartbreak, sometimes in the same week. If you care deeply, this work will leave a mark.
I have preached with a full heart and I have preached while carrying weight I could not talk about from the stage.
That is why those Gable Price and Friends lyrics landed.
Smile with your teeth
“Smile with your teeth…”
Sometimes the smile is just you deciding not to quit.
That is ministry too. Not just the sermons that connect, the wins you celebrate, or the stories you tell later. Sometimes ministry is simply showing up when your heart is tired and trusting God to meet you there.
Your bruises make a lovely accessory
“Your bruises make a lovely accessory…”
Bruises are not lovely. They are bruises.
I remember deciding to drop in on a four-foot skate ramp once, despite the tiny detail that I had never skateboarded in my life. It looked easy until it very much was not. I hit the hardwood, bruised up my whole side, and could not sleep on my right side for a week.
Bruises have a way of reminding you what happened.
Ministry does too. Not always physically, but emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. The bruises show up in disappointment, criticism, misunderstanding, betrayal, and the slow weight of carrying people while trying to stay healthy yourself.
They come from disappointment, pressure, criticism, misunderstanding, betrayal, and the slow wear of carrying people while trying to stay healthy yourself.
Theologian Charles Spurgeon put it this way: “Who can bear the weight of souls without sometimes sinking to the dust?”
If you stay in ministry long enough, you will get bruised. Not because you are failing, but because this work is real. People are real. And loving people always costs something.
The bruises are not the goal. They are not a badge of honor. But they are often part of the cost of staying in it long enough to love people well.
Have some guts kid
“Have some guts kid…”
That part made me laugh a little, mostly because some days blunt is exactly what you need.
Because ministry takes guts.
It takes guts to tell the truth when it would be easier to stay vague.
It takes guts to stay tender when cynicism would be easier.
It takes guts to keep showing up when your heart is tired.
It takes guts to apologize when you get it wrong.
It takes guts to keep loving people without letting pain turn you cold.
It looks like prayer, faithfulness, and doing the next right thing when nobody sees the internal battle.
The right people matter
One thing I know after more than two decades in ministry, nobody makes it on calling alone.
You need the right people around you. People who can tell when you are tired. People who care about your soul more than your role. People who help hold you steady when ministry starts messing with your head.
I know that because I have needed those people.
There have been moments where the presence of the right people kept me from making a decision in exhaustion that I would have regretted later. That matters more than most leaders want to admit.
Calling matters. No question. But the right people around you can make the difference between pushing through a hard season and walking away from something God never told you to leave.
This is ministry
“…this is ministry.”
Not the polished version. The real one.
Ministry is joy and heartbreak, purpose and pressure, laughter and heaviness. It is beautiful work, but it is not light work.
Maybe that is why those lyrics landed on me this week. Because ministry has a way of reminding you that you are not the Savior, and that is good news.
You were never meant to carry everything. You were never meant to be unshakable.
Ministry is one of the quickest ways to learn how much you need Jesus. Not just His help for the work, but His presence in the middle of it.
So what do we do with the bruises?
We tell the truth about them.
We do not pretend everything is fine when it is not.
We bring the bruises to Jesus. We let trusted people in. We rest. We get honest. We stay close to God, not just busy for God.
And then we keep going.
So yes, smile with your teeth.
Not because nothing hurts, but because hurt does not get the final word.
This is ministry. Beautiful, heavy, costly work. So have some guts, stay close to Jesus, and do not lose your soul trying to help everybody else with theirs.

