Broken but Healing; Waiting but Envisioned
In January of this year (2011), the pastors of the church I attend, invited the congregation to join them in a forty day fast. While I have done extended fast in the past, I did not feel particularly called to fast this year. I have had some medical problems during past fasts, and had concluded that I would not do another extended fast. As January approach, I felt the nudge of God to fast with the church simply out of obedience to my pastors, and so I did.
For the first time, I was able to give myself more fully to prayer and reflection and the presence of the Lord was sweet and at times overwhelming. Midway through the forty days one of the pastors asked me if I was hearing anything from God. “No”, I responded. In fact, I hadn’t been listening and didn’t have an expectation that God was going to be speak. When I got home, I asked God if there was anything He want to say. For the
remainder of the fast, I listened.
Within a day or two, I got a clear word that the fast signaled the end of a season of life and the beginning of a new season. God did not draw a clear picture of this new season of life, and that has been ok with me. I have lost my need to for a detailed map of my future. I no longer desire a big or important ministry. Over the last two years I have come to a place of peace about my life. Since September of 2009 when I last wrote, God has transformed me through His love and a renewed and deepened understanding of His Kingdom in this world. Those segments of my journey
will require their own post.
As the time of fasting finished, God ask me several questions. First, would l be willing to serve him even if I did not have a title or position to minister from. Second, would I see it as significant and worth my time if God wanted to use me to minister to any person He brings to
me. Third, would I be willing to do any task, no matter how small, simply to serve Him. And, fourth, would I let go of my personal ambitions for opportunities and influence, and live the rest of my life out in simple service for His Kingdom. With each question, my heart softened—and stung because He even had to ask me.
February began with a settled peace about the future and a steady stream of individuals who have graciously allowed me to walk a short distance
with them as they face questions, struggles and sometime profound pain. It has been a great honor to be a place where heaven and earth touch—a little taste of the coming Kingdom.
The year is half over, and with it increasing places to minister. It is truly beautiful to minister under the leading of God. In the past, ambition drove me to seek opportunities that were not good fits, and fueled my striving for importance. God has opened a door for ministry that is a perfect fit, and my heart is full of peace and eager anticipation. I am stunned by His presence in my life.
Who is Roger?
I have been a pastor by call, gifting and vocation for the past twenty-eight years. I have ministered in three churches during that time. Despite the normal and sometimes unique challenges, I love being a pastor. In July of 2008, I made the difficult and painful decision to close the church that I led. This happen on August 31, 2008. At this moment, I do not see the possibility of remaining in traditional church ministry and that deepens the grief and fear. I will write more about that and the choice to close the church in future blogs. The reason that I set up this blog is to give voice to the many pastors who leave the ministry they love every year and then disappear. I believe that there is a quiet despair for these people no matter the reason for leaving. Even now, I find myself vanishing; people don’t call, I don’t have meetings to attend or run. I feel out of place in the different ministerial groups in which I once was a strategic member. My opinion is no longer sought and the opportunities for ministry have dried up. My presence in the church community and people’s lives is being erased. I must quickly note that I do not think people are purposefully trying to erase me from their lives, but I am not the same person I was and they don’t how to fit me into their world now. And I’m not certain that I know how to fit into their world. I know that what I am experiencing now and have yet to experience in not uniquely mine.
“That’s depressing,” you may say, but I hope that my honesty will bring some out of isolation and alienation and open a door to real hope. Right now, I feel like the Psalmist when he ends his lament with, “I will yet praise the Lord.” I know that my God lives and will be faithful. I am not sure what that will look like. I just know that at the moment, I am overwhelmed with grief, doubts, fears and questions. I welcome any traveling companions on this journey.May we hold on to hope for the Light while honestly facing the darkness.
