Wednesday, July 3, 2024

From a Pastor's Heart

Yesterday I was told a long-time member of our church has decided to leave us for another church. It happens. However, this one seems to sting a bit more. Probably because I was never told. I heard through the grapevine a few vague excuses for their absence the past several weeks. But I never received a call, a text and conversation...even after requesting some time. 

I'm sure they have their reasons. A wise mentor once told me, "Never be disappointed with the will of God." But days like today makes that statement a true proclamation of faith...because I'm not feeling it.

It's the not knowing...the mystery of where I may have failed, had a blind spot or unknowingly caused an offense. "Where did I drop the ball?"

Maybe I didn't. Maybe it really is God. Maybe it's them. What did our church not do, not offer, that left their needs unmet? What about all the friendships that they had cultivated here over the years? Do people really just walk away from those bonds so easily?  Maybe it wasn't easy for them. Maybe it was.

God knows and He most likely will never tell me.

The first pastor I worked for many moons ago once said, "Whenever someone leaves your church, it's always a bit personal."

He was right. There's always that twinge of failure, the proverbial slap in the face, the personal feeling of rejection. 

The tough part as a pastor? We get to process it all alone. We are left alone to "figure it out" or to simply move on, shake the dust off our feet and press ahead. Not as easy at seems.
He'll simply ask me to pray for them and release them into His hands. He loves them more than I ever could. He knows every part of their heart. He knows every part of my heart too.

In the short existence of The Altar, we've seen people come and go. Many of the original core planting team is still here. Many came for a time and moved on. I'm normally fine with that. I find it a privilege to serve whomever God brings for however long they remain. I really do.

But I come back to my original angst: the sin of comparison. I struggle with it as others do. God has done a deep work in me in this area over the years.

Just this morning, not knowing my current malaise, a pastor friend sent me this meme.  

Pastor, you may feel inadequate and overwhelmed. But slow down and focus on what God is doing for you, in you and through you. Run your own race. Stay focused on His particular calling for your life and ministry. The ones He has brought to you are there for a purpose much greater than yourself. Serve them well. Love them unconditionally and trust Him every step of the way.

(Wow...I feel much better now.)








Thursday, February 8, 2024

The Apology

 


January 2023

THE APOLOGY

Gary Chapman, famed for his landmark relational book, “The Five Love Languages” has another wonderful study called “The 5 Apology Languages.” Chapman lines out the reasons and methods of apology as well as the powerful effect it has on relationships. 

Apology comes easier for some. Based on personality type, it can be a needed bridge to healthy relationships or a trepid barrier. 

In November of 2015, two and a half years after my difficult departure from Believers Tabernacle, my brother and I received an email. It was addressed to both of us and it was an apology, pure and simple. It was difficult to read at first. A couple of years had passed and I was working hard at healing and recovery. It prompted face-to-face meetings in which the contents of the apology were hashed out. It was rough. It was sincere. It changed everything for me.

The email came from my life-long friend whom I had hired to be my Executive Pastor years previously. Our families had been close since we were five years old. My brother’s first job was working on their family farm. He called my mother “mom” after his own mother had passed away from cancer decades before. We hunted together, went to school together, grew up in church, in the altars praying together. We were tight. He was family and the feeling went both ways.

He opened the letter by saying, “I can’t keep living like this, with this cloud hanging over me.” He detailed how he played a key role, passively and actively in the mess and confusion of the event. He stated how he wished he could change things, could have done everything different by “standing up and stopping it.” “I could have,” he wrote. “I should have.”

It was raw. It was honest. It was real. At the time, he too was dealing with a similar fate of being pushed aside and he was angry and frustrated. Maybe he felt comfort in letting it all out so he could construct his own response to the disappointing pressure. He was feeling abandoned and alone. I had been there and he knew it. He didn’t like the feeling. Neither did I.

I’m not writing this to throw him under the bus. On the contrary, I’m actually writing it to honor him. I desperately needed someone who was there, on the inside, to acknowledge that it didn’t go down the way it was being portrayed to so many. That someone who knew “everything” would finally acknowledge some of the context, the decisions, the board agreements, and other things I was never allowed to share. My friend’s apology really did help. It did more than that. It began a deep healing in my heart. It gave me new life in some miraculous way.

Here's the rest of the story. I saw this important email in my inbox as I sat in Chicago O’Hare airport awaiting the long flight to Bangalore, India, and later to Nepal on a two-week mission trip. When I saw the email, my gut tightened, my heart sank and the familiar fear I had felt so many times in the spring of 2013 was there once again. I made the decision to not read it. I wanted to stay focused on the trip and God’s plan for it and not be sidetracked by the anguish that had become all too familiar.

The trip was incredible. As I sat in my hotel room in Katmandu, India, ready to board my flight home two weeks later, I remembered the email. I pulled it up on my phone and began to read. My nerves were on edge. I didn’t want more accusations or arguments. And, amazingly, that’s not what I got. It was a very important, detailed four pages that brought such healing. I wept.

I kept crying on the flight home in between naps. I remember praying, “Thank you Lord. I needed this. Not sure what I’m supposed to do with it, but I needed this.” He replied rather quickly. “It’s time to get back in the captain’s chair.” What?!

After more prayer and soul-searching. He was gently answering the question I had held in my spirit for several months. Was it time to leave the church that had loved me so much and brought healing and stability to my family for the past two years and once again run with the vision God had given me so many years before? If so, what would that look like? How would that ever happen?

I knew it was God speaking. And so we did it. And…wow God has been GOOD! I’m more content, satisfied, happy and excited about being a pastor than ever. Seriously…I mean it. It’s a wonderful thing when you come through a trial…and you discover God more beautifully for it…and you discover yourself once again. (The testimonies would take many, many more blogs…stay tuned).

The Lord has reminded me many times that this bold move to “move on” would not have been possible without the closure my friend had provided by saying, “I’m sorry.” What a powerful impact those two holy of holiest words can hold. I know without a doubt we could not have planted The Altar and resurrected the ministry of the Dream Center without reading those words.

My friend and I met after I returned home. It was difficult. I could see in his eyes and hear in his own words how sorry he was. I forgave him. Still do. He knew it. My brother was deeply affected by his apology as well. It helped rebuild the lifelong friendship they had enjoyed. Three weeks before my mother passed in 2016, he asked Randy and I for permission to come see her. Mom said, “yes.” They met. They cried together. My mom would never tell me what they talked about. (Believe me, I asked several times.) I’m not sure if she was protecting me, even on her death bed, or just that it was something so personal…for her heart alone. She needed to hear him offer the apology he had given me.

My friend is also in heaven now. He suffered from a brain aneurysm that took him way far too early. We talked on the phone three days before he passed. Tears flowed. But peace abounded. I’ll forever be thankful for that email and healing it brought both of us.

If you’re at odds with someone, make it right…quickly. Life is indeed too short to hold on to the poison of unforgiveness and regret. Be certain, that God may be trying to get a blessing to you, a word, some direction. Unforgiveness can clog the pipes and halt the things He wants to do for you and through you.

If you’re waiting for an apology, please know that it may never come. Your need to forgive and let go is still the imperative.

My friend gave me a sweet gift that God knew was needed for me to launch into a new phase of ministry…a new chapter of life.

I’ll always be grateful.

Loyalty


November 2022

I'm continuing the writing journey of processing parts of my lie and experiences. Nothing fancy, just leaving some stuff for my kids and anyone else that may find the ups and downs, the lessons learned, interesting.

I awoke this morning thinking how blessed I've been to be in church ministry, especially with the some of the incredible people I've worked alongside. It reminded me of many conversations, harrowing conversations and continue friendships. Loyalty is one of the greatest blessings a person can receive. Loyalty speaks to unconditional love in relationship. Let's face it. Many, okay...most relationships we encounter are more transactional than unconditional. IF you are performing at acceptable levels, everything remaining "normal" then we are good. But IF you deviate, waver, stumble...cause the relationship to wander outside the acceptable parameters, then I can't continue in the same manner with you.

We all do it. It's okay. Some are built to ride with you through the tough stuff. Others will fade away...or sprint as fast as they can.

When we went through our “wilderness” experience nearly ten years ago, it was loyalty that helped so much. Two people who suffered through the ordeal never waivered with me. (At least, they never let me know if they did.) Kendall and Kenny were the two most prominent in their generous support. They knew I was hurting, disillusioned, frustrated and lost. Yet, they never let go of me. They sent messages just at the right time. A link to a worship song; an encouraging word, a scripture or a simple, “I’m praying for you today, you’re on my heart. I’m here for you. I’m not letting you go.” They both are still an important part of my life and current ministry. Most importantly, they are both dear, close friends. 

 I was recently watching a news anchor who has his own show on some cable network. Earlier this year he was “unceremoniously dismissed” from his primetime show he hosted for years. I don’t remember what the circumstances were. I happened to channel surf and trip upon his opening monologue for his final Thanksgiving show. I’m so glad I did. He echoed so many of the sentiments, thoughts and emotions I have felt for many years. He was thankful for his family, friends, etc. He listed his producers and other support staff that followed him to his new gig. He was thankful for their belief in him when many others abandoned him. And he ended by thanking those who opposed him, who let him down. He thanked them for forcing some serious introspection into his own heart and life. Although he wouldn’t have chosen the way things went down…he was grateful it did go down. He was especially grateful for knowing clearly who his true friends were and those who weren’t. 

 One former board member told me, “We want to see you become a better pastor than ever.” Sort of the “this is gonna hurt me more than it hurts you” line. But I think he was sincere…not sure. 

 It worked. Instead of destroying me, it focused me. It certainly gave me a spine of steel. As one buddy said to me in the midst of that particular trial, “Sometimes a bully just needs punched in the mouth.” That happened…figuratively…and the next day everything stopped. Peace. Ability to move forward ensued.

But I’m grateful for the recalibrating. I know now, through years of prayer and some incredible Christian pastoral therapy, that I’m not the sum of my ministry. As our counselor told us at Emerge Ministries, “You’ve become enmeshed. You don’t know where the ministry ends and the man begins.” I needed to learn that. I’m thankful I can shut things down now. I can stare at my child playing and enjoy it, rather than being consumed with what else needs to be done at church. I’m glad that Polly and I have discovered other things to talk about when we’re home or on vacation. Most of all, I’m deeply grateful I’ve received a much clearer and deeper understanding of my own, personal identity in Christ. And “pastor” isn’t on the birth certificate. He loves me, not based on my performance, not based on my calling. His love isn’t transactional. He doesn’t look at me and size me up due to my most recent performance. Unfortunately, too many of those sitting in the pews and in the board rooms do that…but that’s okay. 

I chuckle when I think of the ones who told me they would always be with me…but aren’t today. One buddy of mine, a former pastor who I spent many hours with me after he went through a very traumatic church experience is one such friend. He’s a great guy. When he found out we were planting The Altar, he called me and we met for lunch. He was so excited and committed his family to be part of the launch team. He donated thousands of dollars’ worth of sound equipment. He was such a blessings and encouragement. We launched a few months later…and he never has stepped into the doors of our church…never. I’ve never been upset with him. He's a great guy. We’ve drifted and we haven’t talked in a couple of years. But he’s still a great man of God and I’m thankful for his friendship. 

Another key staff member shared a room with me one year at Pastor’s School in Phoenix, AZ. We stayed up one evening talking for hours. He kept pressing on how much he loved the church and how he and his wife were “in it for the long haul.” Three months later at a breakfast meeting he informed me that they were leaving to go back home to his home state. God had other incredible plans for him and who can argue with that? He's still a dear friend. Still loyal and true. 

Understand, loyalty isn’t always a physical presence, but a spiritual one. That kind of loyalty goes much deeper, rooted in grace, love and God’s way of linking us together. 

I’ve felt much the same way that TV anchor felt. I’m so thankful for my family. My beautiful wife, my three awesome boys and their unconditional love, and patience, toward me. I’m thankful for our church and the ministry God allows me to steward. I’m thankful for the new friends God has brought. There’s such a depth and commitment and commonality amongst my current gang of pastors I have the honor of hanging with. True covenant friends. Some used to work for me. Some have moved on to other awesome things. But sweet are the ones who God keeps close to you. I’m doing my best to be as loyal and true as so many have been to me. 

Thankful.

From a Pastor's Heart

Yesterday I was told a long-time member of our church has decided to leave us for another church. It happens. However, this one seems to sti...