Sabbath Eve Solitude

Fifteen months ago I set out to Arizona to help a friend—to make a difference.  I left behind the better part of my heart to do it.  My traveling back and forth from Arizona to California and Penny’s itinerary in reverse was the price I paid for the honor of serving this conference.  I have given the fine people of this church constituency the best that I could have, given my personal limitations.  I do not believe this school system is the same as when I arrived.  Our dream was to make our school system one of excellence, empowering students to lead in the church, their community, and their world in the name of Christ and for the Kingdom of God.

We have only begun.  We have taken baby steps.  The process of improvement (like sanctification) is the work of a lifetime.  It is also a work of God.  Without Him our efforts are futile and they are destined to fail.  With God nothing is impossible!

I have been involved in ministry for the better part of thirty years.  I am acquainted with naysayers and doubters.  I have worked obstructionists and complainers.  I have experienced the best that ministry can afford, and I have also tasted moments of abject emotional pain.  I would not wish those moments on anyone.

Given all that, I have always been able to detach myself from these annoyances by simply accepting people and situations for what they are—uncontrollable.  I cannot control people or events—they happen and act as they do.  I have also been cognizant that I also share in the dynamics and thus I am a full participant in whatever happens, bad or good. 

I have guided my ministry by two basic principles:  I will never forget who I work for (God), and I will never lose sight of why I do what I do (people—mostly the young).

In this moment of Sabbath Eve introspection I am beginning to doubt my future.  I have taken the best shots aimed at me with as much grace as I could muster.  However,  I begin to wonder if the battle is worth it.  Can it be that what we bring is not what is needed?  Is it possible that what we are attempting to elicit is unwanted and unappreciated? 

Here is the rub—can it be that I am the cause of all this animosity?  Have I come to believe in what I am trying to accomplish so much that I have become someone I always said I would never become—a person who values results and goals and things more than he values people?  I cannot bear the thought.

I am going to spend a sleepless night in prayer.  I am going to take a long walk and reassess my standing.  I did not canvass for this position.  I responded to a need because that is what I taught my children to do.  But nothing is so important that it warrants surrendering your faith and salvation.  If I have truly hurt someone because of a decision or choice made, I truly apologize.  To think I may have acted to others as some are choosing to act troubles me and makes me think that it is time to reconsider my choice.  In spite of my failures and shortcomings, and they are many, my family is most precious to me. 

Please pardon my frankness.  Perhaps it’s being alone again that has my heart feeling especially heavy.  Pray for the children of our church; they are a most precious element.  Without them we have no future.  May you be part of the wave of support they need to know Jesus and to develop as solid citizens of this world and of the Kingdom of God.  I sign off. Happy Sabbath! (225.2)