Time

Life is a trip. God put me on the road to service in the Navajo Nation and three months later returned me home. To see how the whole story began click here. I never much minded someone else getting a raise when I didn't. It never came directly out of my own pocket and I tried to believe in fairness and honesty. I was lucky enough to be in a vocation that paid pretty well, based mostly on experience and not education. The Marine Corps trained me in data processing in the mid-60's. That was a time when most households weren't even getting computerized bills, let alone anyone imagining that there might come a day that computers would be almost as common in homes as were televisions. I led in with that paragraph in order to say that I hope you'll be fair with me. I'm set to do some good old belly-aching. I know many people who are so much worse off than I am and I don't mean to take anything away from their problems. I'm certainly not trying to trump any complaints they may feel justified in making. I hope that they won't think that, like the pay raises I mentioned, I'm trying to take anything out of their pockets. I'll try to always have a sympathetic ear, but this is my blog and my complaints, so I'll tell you up front, if you don't want to read them, pass me by right now! My last great day was on Thursday, August 6th of this year. That doesn't sound like too long ago, but let me put it a bit in perspective for you. August 6th was just over 70 days ago. We now have exactly 70 days left in this year. Within the next 70 days, you'll pass out candy on Halloween. You'll eat turkey for Thanksgiving. You'll celebrate the birth of the Christ Child. You'll veg-out in front of the TV and watch a New Year's Day full of football. I will begin work at H&R Block on the 2009 tax season. Are you ready for the next 70 days? I wasn't ready for the last 70 and those seem to have been 70 long days. How do I know that August 6th was the last great day? I know because it was the day before I found out I would be leaving FCNAM and the Navajo Reservation at the end of August. The 2+ months prior to that were packed with great days. The week of the 6th, the Maple Springs UMC mission team was in Window Rock and I spent most of the week with them. I spent one day that week taking my son, Ron, back to Shiprock to see the kind of things I did at work and meet some of my friends. I spent a couple of days doing the kind of things that I had learned helped to make FCNAM run just a little bit more smoothly. I loved them all! I've had a few pretty good days in the last 70 days. The Friday before I left, there was a lunch for me. There were hugs and tears and I knew that I was leaving lifelong friends. On the way home, I was able to visit with Jerry and Lynnette Harris, who have been friends for the past 25 years. Also on the way home, I was able to visit my sister and brother-in-law in Tampa and spend a little time with their sons and daughter-in-law. My brother-in-law, Steve, and I have been friends since 4th grade and he had just had serious cancer surgery. Seeing the family helped fill a real need within me. A weekend ago, Sara and I visited with my son, Ross, and his friend, Danylle, in Lynchburg, VA. All of those were certainly good days. There have been some hours of some days that have been pretty good as well. I've spent some, not nearly enough, time with close friends. I've spent most of a couple of days helping Twyla Pardue and Jeremy Pegram move what seemed like a ton of food from the local food bank to the church food pantry (does it always rain on the days food needs to be moved?) Believe it or not, one of my pretty good hours was at the doctor's office. My friend, Burnie Little, is a PA there. I made an appointment with him because I wasn't sleeping and had a general feeling of malaise (I believe that, without my daily medication, I could drop into depression faster than I could fall off a cliff.) Burnie is a strong Christian who listened to me carefully and then spoke to me wisely. I am sleeping better, but the sense of malaise hasn't abated much. I'm not sure it will until I once again experience some great days. It was just over 70 days between the time I got laid off by Old Salem and the time I was sure that I was going to the Navajo Reservation. During that time, I looked for non-existent jobs, I volunteered some, and I did some small extra part of the household chores. Since I've been back, I've looked for non-existent jobs, I've volunteered some, and I've done some small extra part of the household chores. That has been just 70 long days. I want to be able to see more clearly just what it is that God has planned for me. I daily pray that it won't be the same thing for my remaining years that it has been for the past 70 days. I'm not sure that there has been enough Cymbalta manufactured to keep me together if that turns out to be the case. God hears my prayers. God knows that my desire is to serve Him full time. God knows that I am discouraged. How can I know I am not stumbling off of God's chosen path for me if I cannot see it?

Paths

Life is a trip. For each of us there is only one destination. For each of us there is a path to that destination. None of us walks the exact same path. I know my destination. I do not know the path. The Navajo Reservation was not a destination. It was an area through which my path led. Being back home in Winston-Salem is not a destination. It is a continuation of my path. God will guide our feet along the path if we wish, but He will also allow us to chose to wander from His chosen path. Sometimes the paths are very steep and rocky and the effort of continuing along them is almost more than we can handle. It is often during this time that we blame God for putting us on such a difficult path and wonder why. Sometimes the path winds downhill, is tree shaded, and the birds sing for us. We are prone to pat ourselves on the back for choosing such an easy way and we forget God's involvement. If we are within God's will, often our path will touch the path of another. The best of this situation is when we join as husband and wife. Our paths are not one, but we can reach out a hand to help each other along difficult places when help is needed or we can just reach out a hand in love and companionship. Sometimes, two paths meet for such a very short time that it is possible for us to miss the opportunity to reach out a helping hand or to take a hand that is offered to us. If we are on the path that God has chosen, there is always a reason for the paths to meet. Yesterday, I was working alone in the Maple Springs pumpkin patch. A girl, probably the age of an average Wake Forest coed, stopped by. She asked a question about pricing and then wandered out into the middle of the church yard. In a couple of minutes, I noticed that she was kneeling, head bowed, and shoulders shaking with sobs. I went to her and knelt beside her (a surprise, since my knees usually won't bend that well.) I put my arm around her shoulders and asked if she wanted to tell me what was wrong. All she told me was that she had done something terrible. Her pain broke my heart and I'm positive that it broke God's heart as well. I told her that Christ would forgive anything and would never stop loving her no matter what. In a couple of minutes, she was able to get herself under control, dried her eyes, and asked me to sell her the pumpkin that she had been holding. Before she left, I gave her my email address and phone number and told her that I would like to hear from her that she was okay. I also told her that I would be glad to help arrange for her to talk to our associate pastor, Anne Elmore, if she wanted. She left me to wonder what it was that she had done so terrible and to pray that she would find peace. I didn't hear from her today and really didn't expect to. Our paths touched for only a very few minutes, but I was able to reach out a hand to help. This is God's gift to me. I pray that more opportunities will come and that I will always be aware and ready to respond as God would have me do.

A Holey Man

Life is a trip. God put me on the road to service in the Navajo Nation and three months later returned me home. To see how the whole story began click here. I know that you are thinking that there is a major spelling error in the title of this posting, but you would be wrong. In this posting, I'm going to talk a bit about a man with a hole inside him. I returned from the Navajo Reservation not understanding why God brought me back home so soon, but sure that He had great things planned for me. After all, I had just begun to really fit into life in the Four Corners ministry and feel like a productive part of the team. Why else would I be returned home if it weren't to do even greater things? That doesn't seem to have been the case, or at least I'm having trouble identifying the great things I'm back home to do. Six weeks ago tomorrow, I left Shiprock. I knew then that I wanted to be involved in full-time service to the Lord, but didn't know where or how. Six weeks later, nothing much has changed. If I am a part of God's plan, shouldn't I be doing something? Those of you who know me best and, for that matter, some of you who know me hardly at all, know that patience is not my long suit. I'm ready to do God's work NOW! Why isn't God ready? For about five of those last six weeks the feeling of despair that I would ever again be allowed to experience the joy of being about God's business, the feeling I had when I left the Navajo Reservation, left a huge hole in me. I am the holey man. Within the last week or so, some things have happened that have begun to help me close that hole, at least a little bit. I am schooling to work for H&R Block again this coming tax season. I also fully expect to be picked up again to work on the 2010 census (I worked on it in the spring of 2009.) I continue to search for other jobs and, in the meantime, I am lucky enough to draw a bit of unemployment. This allows me time for volunteer activities, always an important part of my life. As a part of the job search, I asked Rev. Bill Medlin, the District Superintendent of the Winston-Salem District of the Western North Carolina Conference of the United Methodist Church for time to talk with him about my goals and my feeling of being called to full-time service. He graciously and quickly scheduled the half hour I requested and allowed the meeting to stretch to almost twice that length. I didn't know until that meeting, and many of you may not know, that the Methodist Church has a position called a Licensed Local Pastor. A Local Pastor is heavily trained, not nearly so much as those who want to be ordained, which takes a masters in a religious discipline, but trained none the less. A LP is assigned to a single church (charge) and can perform for only that church any functions that an ordained minister can perform for any Methodist Church. A LP preaches, teaches, performs marriages, funerals, baptisms, communion, etc. He or she is just restricted to doing it only for the church assigned. The road to becoming a LP is not quick and an assignment is not guaranteed even after all the training. I have asked Rev. Medlin to accept me on the LP candidacy track. My very best friends and advisers have been straight forward with me. They have advised tempered enthusiasm and patience. They have pointed out many of the trials and tribulations of being a pastor, especially the only one at a church. My friend Jeremy Pegram, a staff member at my church, Maple Springs UMC, and a full-time divinity student as well, advised that I go for it. His thought was that the time is long, the study and training extensive and intensive, and that there is no stigma attached to discovering, after beginning, that I really am not answering a call. He pointed out that anything I learned in the process was bound to benefit me in later endeavors. Anne Elmore, who works hard serving as the Associate Pastor at the church, when she isn't working twice as hard being my friend and confidant, was very straight forward about the life of a minister. She also took the time to talk with me about the hole that I am feeling by sharing a prayer by John Wesley: "Lord, make me what you will. I put myself fully into your hands: put me to doing, put me to suffering, let me be employed for you, or laid aside for you, let me be full, let me be empty, let me have all things, let me have nothing. I freely and with a willing heart give it all to your pleasure and disposal." I haven't slept through the night in weeks now. Part of it is the hole. Part of it is concern over my elderly mother and concern for family and friends who are fighting cancer and other diseases. I scheduled a visit with my friendly neighborhood Physicians Assistant. Burnie Little is another one of those who would probably have more time to do medicine if he weren't so busy working at being my friend. (I guess being my friend could turn into a full-time job if only people who befriend me would allow it to be.) I told Burnie about the hole and that I didn't think God was using me right now and that I couldn't sleep because of that. Burnie told me about a preacher he had read about. This preacher felt a call to move from area to area preaching and starting churches. Although he was very good and felt like he was doing exactly what God wanted him to do, things changed for him. This far, the story reminded me of my time on the Navajo Reservation and how, just I felt good about my calling, things changed for me. To continue Burnie's story, this preacher actually ended up in prison! While he was in prison, he began to write. His writing was to become a large part of our New Testament. This preacher's name was Paul and God changed Paul's plan to God's plan. Some of Paul's churches still exist, no small thing, but his writing became a major part of the greatest selling book in all of history. And now you know the rest of the story. Burnie's point was that God's plan is unfolding in my life, just as it did in Paul's, whether I recognize it or not. After helping to begin the healing in my soul, Burnie gave me a prescription to help with the lack of sleep too. I want to end by sharing something else I read just lately. "Many times, there are angels at work in our lives. When they don't have wings, we call them friends." Thank you, my friends. I love you.