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.