While the sights and sounds of the season shout, "Christmas is near," this is not a merry season for all. I think of several groups of people who will struggle this year. While everyone else scurries about with Christmas spirit spreading joy to all, there are some who do not enjoy this time of year.
Let's address those who are dealing with grief. This grief could be fresh with the death of a loved one in the past year. It can also be those who still grieve the loss of a spouse, child, or parent a long time ago. For such people, Christmas will never be the same. Painful past memories are a constant reminder of the void left after their death. The pictures capture the image, but can never bring the person back. Long held family traditions dim in the light of a loved one's absence. Christmas is not the same. Life is not the same. Bravely survivors put one foot in front of the other dutifully going through their days, but not necessarily joyfully. Grieving people have few to talk to about their loved one. The world moves on for others, but when the loved one died, in a way time stands still for those left behind to mourn their loss. Talking helps hold onto the loved one..To revive cherished memories. Others get uncomfortable and want to avoid such talk. The grieving need to talk about their loved one. It is therapeutic.
There is another group who will navigate the nativity season with difficulty. It is the homebound and those in assisted living. Many have outlived spouses, siblings, friends, co-workers and even pastors. Their children are busy with their own lives. They sit alone. The phone never rings. Nobody knocks on the door. They will not get a Christmas card. There will be no present under the tree. From their vantage point nobody remembers and seemingly nobody cares. They will sit through this season as they do all other seasons in isolation. They may feel they have outlived their usefulness. They certainly may suffer the loss of dignity in the way they are treated on rare occasions when they have contact with other people. Only God knows the joy it would bring to a life if people took a little time to find those alone and reach out to them. A phone call. A visit. A Christmas card. A gift could make a world of difference this year.
There is another group I am thinking of now. It is the financially destitute. Those who cannot afford to purchase Christmas gifts. Those who do not want to disappoint their children. Those who lost their job unexpectedly. I have experienced this in the past right before Christmas. It is a horrible feeling. There are those so far behind on bills, they do not have one hope to get caught up, much less get gifts for others. Christmas brings added stress into their already over stressed lives. Jesus said it is more blessed to give than to receive. Maybe you could open your heart and your wallet to someone in need this Christmas season to help them.
I wish I could take away the pain for all these people. I can't. What I can offer is the same gift God sent to us wrapped in swaddling clothes in a manger. No longer a baby, the Son of God has something to offer for all the aforementioned groups. For the grieving He is near to them and heals their broken hearts. He binds up their wounds. For those who feel alone,, I offer the comfort that He promised He would never leave us or forsake us. He is near, present and accessible for all. Finally, for those facing financial woes, Jesus is a provider. He makes a way where there seems to be no way.
I am off. It is time to put this blog into action. To go out and spread a little Christmas cheer to those who feel they have little to cheer this time of year. I hope you will do the same.
Tuesday, December 3, 2019
Critical Crisis
I remember well November 7, 2019. It marked a critical crisis in my journey with Jesus. The day started at 2:45 a.m. with prayer. Something happened in that time and the ensuing day that felt like a torpedo from a satanic submarine. A blind side attack. In the spell of 24 hours, I went from victorious praying to barely able to maintain my grip on faith. Doubts surrounded me like a mine field. I felt trapped and imprisoned by confusion.
Life continued. I maintained my responsibilities. We saw our oldest son play his last ever football game in college. We recently helped our youngest son navigate a knee surgery. Sundays came with preaching and teaching opportunities. Wednesday night also brought additional teaching opportunities. There were meetings and planning. I even squeezed in a short mission trip with several from the church.
All the while, I suffered silently. Something broke in me on November 7th that I did not know how to fix. I read scripture. Tons of Scripture. It did not change my internal turmoil or remove the confusion. One Sunday night I preached from the Psalms. I had been discouraged all day, but tried to hide it from my family and the flock. Preaching through that Psalm moved my heart. I preached myself happy. God met me. That proved a temporary relief. Soon the doubts and confusion resurfaced.
When I tried to pray, I felt I was only mouthing words. I knew my prayers were not offered in faith. I went through the motions of praying, but did not really pray. I was not mad at God. Not even disappointed with God. These were my internal issues. They were not based on anything other than my own doubts and inability to discern God's leadership. Like a person in a maze I could not find my way out. Every direction seemed to lead to a dead end.
My prayers suffered. My faith sank like the Titanic. The iceberg of my critical crisis gouged a hole in my faith that leaked doubt like water faster than I could pump it out. As I'm prone to do, I internalized all of it. It was my critical crisis I did not see the need to concern anyone else. Yet, the critical crisis effected every area of my life. I grew discouraged. God remained silent. Doubt took root in the depts. of my soul sprouting into tender shoots of skepticism. Not at God. At me.
During that time, I did not pray fervently. Desperately yes, but not fervently. In some ways it has felt like I was going through the motions, except when I preached. God gave me His passion for preaching and teaching. I got up and did what I had to do for the other days. My soul felt dry as a desert. The hot wind of skepticism chapped the hide of my soul. I tried, but could not pray fervently. I could read scripture. I devoured a lot of scripture, but could not get free.
Because I did not pray fervently, it effected every area of my ministry. I did not feel the same passion, I did not feel God's anointing nor inspiration. I lost any desire to write. I felt lost in a blackhole of doubt and could not find the way out.
By this point, many will wonder what my critical crisis was. Because I have not elaborated, they will come to some conclusion. They will speculate. They will deduce I got sucked into some sinister sin. They will reason that some specific trial set me back. They will come up with other false accusations just like Job's friend did with him. None of that is true. Not that it is really anyone's business, but my critical crisis came at the point at hearing from God. Something I thought God spoke turned out not be from Him. It sent me reeling. I questioned many recent things I sensed the Lord speaking to me. If I could miss God's leadership at one point, I questioned if I heard Him clearly on other points.
Hearing God communicate is at the very heart of my faith and relationship with Him. Everything hinges on that. As I already testified, my issue did not come from lack of reading the Bible. I misinterpreted something. The fault is mine and mine alone. Doubt is mine. I know this has been a set back but not my demise. God will shine through clearly in my heart again. I shall confidently hear His directions and follow confidently. I shall keep seeking. While my prayer life has been weakened, it is not defeated.
I hesitate to write such a blog. It is too transparent for many. They do not want to hear the real life struggles of the pastor. They prefer the pseudo hide behind a plastic perfect persona. I am not perfect. I am not made of plastic. I am a human. I struggle like other humans struggle. I choose to be honest about that.
I still know God is my refuge and strength and a very present help in times of trouble. [Ps 46:1] I still know the God who called me is faithful to complete it. [I Thess 5:24] I still know God is not the author of confusion. [I Cor `4:33] I still know God is more than able to handle anything that concerns me today. [Eph 3:20]. I know that as one of Jesus' sheep, He knows me and will help me to know His voice. [John 10:27] I know my hope comes from God and I need not be downcast. [Ps 42:5] I also know this long dark night will end and joy will come again soon. [Ps 30:5] I press on in that assurance.
Life continued. I maintained my responsibilities. We saw our oldest son play his last ever football game in college. We recently helped our youngest son navigate a knee surgery. Sundays came with preaching and teaching opportunities. Wednesday night also brought additional teaching opportunities. There were meetings and planning. I even squeezed in a short mission trip with several from the church.
All the while, I suffered silently. Something broke in me on November 7th that I did not know how to fix. I read scripture. Tons of Scripture. It did not change my internal turmoil or remove the confusion. One Sunday night I preached from the Psalms. I had been discouraged all day, but tried to hide it from my family and the flock. Preaching through that Psalm moved my heart. I preached myself happy. God met me. That proved a temporary relief. Soon the doubts and confusion resurfaced.
When I tried to pray, I felt I was only mouthing words. I knew my prayers were not offered in faith. I went through the motions of praying, but did not really pray. I was not mad at God. Not even disappointed with God. These were my internal issues. They were not based on anything other than my own doubts and inability to discern God's leadership. Like a person in a maze I could not find my way out. Every direction seemed to lead to a dead end.
My prayers suffered. My faith sank like the Titanic. The iceberg of my critical crisis gouged a hole in my faith that leaked doubt like water faster than I could pump it out. As I'm prone to do, I internalized all of it. It was my critical crisis I did not see the need to concern anyone else. Yet, the critical crisis effected every area of my life. I grew discouraged. God remained silent. Doubt took root in the depts. of my soul sprouting into tender shoots of skepticism. Not at God. At me.
During that time, I did not pray fervently. Desperately yes, but not fervently. In some ways it has felt like I was going through the motions, except when I preached. God gave me His passion for preaching and teaching. I got up and did what I had to do for the other days. My soul felt dry as a desert. The hot wind of skepticism chapped the hide of my soul. I tried, but could not pray fervently. I could read scripture. I devoured a lot of scripture, but could not get free.
Because I did not pray fervently, it effected every area of my ministry. I did not feel the same passion, I did not feel God's anointing nor inspiration. I lost any desire to write. I felt lost in a blackhole of doubt and could not find the way out.
By this point, many will wonder what my critical crisis was. Because I have not elaborated, they will come to some conclusion. They will speculate. They will deduce I got sucked into some sinister sin. They will reason that some specific trial set me back. They will come up with other false accusations just like Job's friend did with him. None of that is true. Not that it is really anyone's business, but my critical crisis came at the point at hearing from God. Something I thought God spoke turned out not be from Him. It sent me reeling. I questioned many recent things I sensed the Lord speaking to me. If I could miss God's leadership at one point, I questioned if I heard Him clearly on other points.
Hearing God communicate is at the very heart of my faith and relationship with Him. Everything hinges on that. As I already testified, my issue did not come from lack of reading the Bible. I misinterpreted something. The fault is mine and mine alone. Doubt is mine. I know this has been a set back but not my demise. God will shine through clearly in my heart again. I shall confidently hear His directions and follow confidently. I shall keep seeking. While my prayer life has been weakened, it is not defeated.
I hesitate to write such a blog. It is too transparent for many. They do not want to hear the real life struggles of the pastor. They prefer the pseudo hide behind a plastic perfect persona. I am not perfect. I am not made of plastic. I am a human. I struggle like other humans struggle. I choose to be honest about that.
I still know God is my refuge and strength and a very present help in times of trouble. [Ps 46:1] I still know the God who called me is faithful to complete it. [I Thess 5:24] I still know God is not the author of confusion. [I Cor `4:33] I still know God is more than able to handle anything that concerns me today. [Eph 3:20]. I know that as one of Jesus' sheep, He knows me and will help me to know His voice. [John 10:27] I know my hope comes from God and I need not be downcast. [Ps 42:5] I also know this long dark night will end and joy will come again soon. [Ps 30:5] I press on in that assurance.
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