Seeing her relationship status change sucked. I blocked her on Facebook so I wouldn't see any of her status updates or pictures, and I got rid the couple things I had written to her and never sent or written for her and never shared, and began to try and move one. Part of me still didn't want to give up, and so I didn't destroy them, just gave them to someone for safe keeping in the event that I ever needed them back to give to her.
I waited and prayed, not wanting to move on, but at the same time knowing that it was over. I wasn't looking for a relationship, I didn't want to be with anyone else, and at the time I was prepared to be single for the rest of my life (I really liked this girl).
Honestly, there isn't a whole lot for me to say on this one, I spent over an hour at my computer last night trying to write this, and that is all I came up with. The aftermath of this wound was me trying to hold on to something I wanted, something I prayed for, while realizing it wasn't what God had in mind. There were people I had met in Michigan who were sad for me, I was sad for me, and a little frustrated with God. This wound would impact me in a lot of way, and writing about it has helped me see areas that still need some work...
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
Friday, September 28, 2018
Wednesday, September 26, 2018
The Wound from Her, Inflicted
I got home really early in the morning, actually I only made it home thanks to the rumble strips on the side of the highway (I don't think my mom reads this so it's fine to put that on here), and I was feeling really good. We had talked and reconnected, and everything seemed like it was going to be moving forward. I wrote her a letter and didn't hear back. Valentines Day was coming up, and the lady who was my Michigan mom told me to send her flowers, so I did. I was careful, making sure there wasn't any secret hidden meaning in the flowers or colors I selected, and sent them. She sent me a text thanking me for them, and that was the last time I ever heard from her.
I didn't push anything. I didn't flood her phone with text messages, didn't write her letters every other day, and didn't send her any more flowers. Her birthday came, and I sent her a card, she really liked zebras and so I went to countless stores to find one with a zebra on it (you have no idea how few cards feature zebras), but find one I did, and I mailed it to her. I heard nothing back.
At this point I had started to pick up on the hint that she wasn't interested anymore, and then I got the final confirmation, her Facebook status changed to "In a Relationship". That was when it really hit me. This whole thing had been a bit of a roller coaster ever since she went back to school at the end of the summer, but I endured because I really thought she was the one. Now I realized that the first girl I had ever really fallen for wasn't falling back.
I feel like the term "heart broken" is cliche, and as a guy who doesn't show a whole lot of emotion it feels weird to admit, but that's where I was. I was heart broken...
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
I didn't push anything. I didn't flood her phone with text messages, didn't write her letters every other day, and didn't send her any more flowers. Her birthday came, and I sent her a card, she really liked zebras and so I went to countless stores to find one with a zebra on it (you have no idea how few cards feature zebras), but find one I did, and I mailed it to her. I heard nothing back.
At this point I had started to pick up on the hint that she wasn't interested anymore, and then I got the final confirmation, her Facebook status changed to "In a Relationship". That was when it really hit me. This whole thing had been a bit of a roller coaster ever since she went back to school at the end of the summer, but I endured because I really thought she was the one. Now I realized that the first girl I had ever really fallen for wasn't falling back.
I feel like the term "heart broken" is cliche, and as a guy who doesn't show a whole lot of emotion it feels weird to admit, but that's where I was. I was heart broken...
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
Monday, September 24, 2018
The Wound from Her, Setup
I never date all that much. My first girlfriend was a girl from high school, but be didn't get together until the summer after graduation. That lasted a few months, but being 18 and going to schools in different states, it didn't last. In college I dated a girl for almost two years, it was one of those relationship that went on too long, and wasn't a healthy situation. After we broke up I met a girl at a wedding, and we went out a couple of times, but nothing ever materialized.
When I graduated college I was single, and there was really no one I was interested in, but I was ready for a relationship. At one point early on in the summer I got set up on a blind date, and it was the most awkward experience I have ever had on a date. The circumstances surrounding that set up should have been warning flags, but I figured I had nothing to lose and so I went with it, and at least I ended up with a story, although now that I think about it, it really isn't that interesting.
I went on from there and tired to just be content. I'm not the most outgoing person, I'm a pretty big introvert, and asking girls out wasn't something I did. I always waited until I knew she would say yes, and only then would "risk" putting myself out there. At that point I wasn't anywhere where I met people, and I was uncertain about where my life was going as I was still looking for a job.
I went back to the church I had interned at the previous summer, and towards the end of July the youth pastor reached out to me and asked if it would be ok if she set me up on a date. Coming off of my previous blind date experience I was a little hesitant, but when I thought about it I realized this situation would be different, I still had nothing to lose, but this time the person doing the setting up actually knew me (it's part of the story of the disastrous first blind date). I said yes, and waited for details.
We met at the youth pastor's house and had dinner, then went to a birthday party for the pastor's son, and then got roped into babysitting the youth pastor and worship pastor's kids while they and their spouses went to a movie. The kids went to bed before they left, and we decided to watch Braveheart, or rather have Braveheart playing in the background since we figured we'd end up talking the whole time, which we did. We ended up spending about 7 hours together, and I was interested.
We had a couple weeks before she went back to school, she was going into her sophomore year of college, and we hung out a lot. Each time we talked and connected, and I became more and more interested. A few days before she went back to school we talked about what happened now, decided to try actually dating, but then a couple days later she decided she didn't want to be in a relationship. She moved back to school, and I decided to reach out to her.
We talked, and she expressed some hesitancy because she didn't know where I was at in terms of what I thought this looked like, and we decided we would just try to connect and talk when we could, seeing what happened. No label, no pressure, just seeing what happens.
We talked on the phone and texted, I wrote her letters, and things seemed to be going well. Then one day I got a letter from her saying that she couldn't do this right now. It was rough, I honestly thought she was the one, and it sucked getting that. I had never connected with anyone like I had connected with her.
My job search continued, and I got a call from a pastor in Michigan. I ended up accepting the job, and after processing the situation with her and my next steps with a job, I wrote her one more letter, telling her that I understood where she was at, and that if we only ended up as friends I was ok with that. I told her I had enjoyed meeting her and talking with her. She texted me after she had read it, thanking me for what I said, and then asked what I was up to. I told her that I was getting ready to move to Michigan, the state she happened to be going to school in. We started texting again, and when I had officially moved she texted me, "When are you coming to see me?"
We made plans, I made the drive, we met, talked, seem to reconnect, and I was looking forward to future visits, but that would be the last time I ever saw her...
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
When I graduated college I was single, and there was really no one I was interested in, but I was ready for a relationship. At one point early on in the summer I got set up on a blind date, and it was the most awkward experience I have ever had on a date. The circumstances surrounding that set up should have been warning flags, but I figured I had nothing to lose and so I went with it, and at least I ended up with a story, although now that I think about it, it really isn't that interesting.
I went on from there and tired to just be content. I'm not the most outgoing person, I'm a pretty big introvert, and asking girls out wasn't something I did. I always waited until I knew she would say yes, and only then would "risk" putting myself out there. At that point I wasn't anywhere where I met people, and I was uncertain about where my life was going as I was still looking for a job.
I went back to the church I had interned at the previous summer, and towards the end of July the youth pastor reached out to me and asked if it would be ok if she set me up on a date. Coming off of my previous blind date experience I was a little hesitant, but when I thought about it I realized this situation would be different, I still had nothing to lose, but this time the person doing the setting up actually knew me (it's part of the story of the disastrous first blind date). I said yes, and waited for details.
We met at the youth pastor's house and had dinner, then went to a birthday party for the pastor's son, and then got roped into babysitting the youth pastor and worship pastor's kids while they and their spouses went to a movie. The kids went to bed before they left, and we decided to watch Braveheart, or rather have Braveheart playing in the background since we figured we'd end up talking the whole time, which we did. We ended up spending about 7 hours together, and I was interested.
We had a couple weeks before she went back to school, she was going into her sophomore year of college, and we hung out a lot. Each time we talked and connected, and I became more and more interested. A few days before she went back to school we talked about what happened now, decided to try actually dating, but then a couple days later she decided she didn't want to be in a relationship. She moved back to school, and I decided to reach out to her.
We talked, and she expressed some hesitancy because she didn't know where I was at in terms of what I thought this looked like, and we decided we would just try to connect and talk when we could, seeing what happened. No label, no pressure, just seeing what happens.
We talked on the phone and texted, I wrote her letters, and things seemed to be going well. Then one day I got a letter from her saying that she couldn't do this right now. It was rough, I honestly thought she was the one, and it sucked getting that. I had never connected with anyone like I had connected with her.
My job search continued, and I got a call from a pastor in Michigan. I ended up accepting the job, and after processing the situation with her and my next steps with a job, I wrote her one more letter, telling her that I understood where she was at, and that if we only ended up as friends I was ok with that. I told her I had enjoyed meeting her and talking with her. She texted me after she had read it, thanking me for what I said, and then asked what I was up to. I told her that I was getting ready to move to Michigan, the state she happened to be going to school in. We started texting again, and when I had officially moved she texted me, "When are you coming to see me?"
We made plans, I made the drive, we met, talked, seem to reconnect, and I was looking forward to future visits, but that would be the last time I ever saw her...
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
Friday, September 21, 2018
The Wound I Made Worse, Healing Part 2: Reconnecting
Over the past few months my former mentor and I have been reconnecting. At first I wasn't sure what this would look like. We live several hours away, and neither one of us has a ton of time, he's pastoring a large church and spending time with his grandkids, I'm working, finishing up a master's degree, exploring some options for the future, and being a dad. In some ways, I felt that after our initial phone conversation everything was done. I had reached out, been honest, and extended forgiveness; he had responded, apologized, and accepted forgiveness.
As I've gone through the months since then, I've realized how much I miss him. Recently we were on the phone, I was asking him for prayer and expressing some frustration for a situation I'm facing with my ex-wife, and in the midst of that conversation I told him, "I'm sorry we lost touch."
People enter our lives at different times and for different reasons. Some make a big impact, other we barely remember. Some build us up while others try to tear us down; some pour into us while others drain us. There are some people we think we'll be close to forever, and other we wish we had never met. Some will wound us intentionally, others unintentionally, and sometimes there will be wounds we make worse.
This wound turned into a four year silence because I wouldn't ask a simple question. I was too afraid to be rejected, to insecure to risk being vulnerable, that I ended up pushing someone away who had helped and guided me through some of the biggest moments of my life. I let this wound get worse and worse, to the point where I had to write a letter explaining how the narrative I was enclosing and then call a secretary because I was too nervous to talk to him.
I don't know what the future looks like with us. I don't see us ever working together at a church, partly due to logistics and geography, and partly due to how I've felt God leading my life. I feel that we've grown out of the mentor/apprentice stage of life, but all good relationships should grow beyond how they start.
I will always be grateful for the things I have learned from him, I quote him a lot, and a lot of the things I do stem from he taught me. I am thankful that God brought us together, grateful that God didn't let me continue to brood over I felt ignored and abandoned, and thankful for having time to reconnect.
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
As I've gone through the months since then, I've realized how much I miss him. Recently we were on the phone, I was asking him for prayer and expressing some frustration for a situation I'm facing with my ex-wife, and in the midst of that conversation I told him, "I'm sorry we lost touch."
People enter our lives at different times and for different reasons. Some make a big impact, other we barely remember. Some build us up while others try to tear us down; some pour into us while others drain us. There are some people we think we'll be close to forever, and other we wish we had never met. Some will wound us intentionally, others unintentionally, and sometimes there will be wounds we make worse.
This wound turned into a four year silence because I wouldn't ask a simple question. I was too afraid to be rejected, to insecure to risk being vulnerable, that I ended up pushing someone away who had helped and guided me through some of the biggest moments of my life. I let this wound get worse and worse, to the point where I had to write a letter explaining how the narrative I was enclosing and then call a secretary because I was too nervous to talk to him.
I don't know what the future looks like with us. I don't see us ever working together at a church, partly due to logistics and geography, and partly due to how I've felt God leading my life. I feel that we've grown out of the mentor/apprentice stage of life, but all good relationships should grow beyond how they start.
I will always be grateful for the things I have learned from him, I quote him a lot, and a lot of the things I do stem from he taught me. I am thankful that God brought us together, grateful that God didn't let me continue to brood over I felt ignored and abandoned, and thankful for having time to reconnect.
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
Wednesday, September 19, 2018
The Wound I Made Worse, Healing Part 1: Reaching Out
It was going on five years since I had talked to my former mentor. One of the pastor's I had been meeting with challenged me to write out a couple narratives of key relationships in my life, one of them being this one. I wrote out how we met, the different experiences I had had while working with him, and how our relationship grew from pastor and intern, to close friend, to father/son.
I wrote about things he had told me, ways he had encouraged me, pushed me, and guided me. I wrote about the wound, why it had hurt, how it made me feel, and the reaction I had afterwards. When I had finished, I sent it to the pastor who had asked me to write it, and then he asked me how I felt about calling him.
That idea wasn't something I was ready to do. First off, who calls someone for the first time in half a decade and says, "Hey, here's how you hurt me..." I can't imagine that conversation would go over so well. For the time being I decided to just sit on narrative I had written, and let God begin to work.
A few months later God was leading me to reach out and begin to seek restoration. I began talking to my pastor again, and he suggested that I begin by sending the narrative I had written to him. This sounded like the best first step, and so I wrote a letter, explaining what had happened with in my life and what had led me to reach out. I explained the narrative I was including and offered genuine forgiveness, then I opened the door to have continued conversation if he was interested. I mailed the letter and waited for a response, after a few weeks I had heard nothing back. I sent an email checking to make sure he had gotten it, and got no response. This lack of a reply added to my frustration, and it made me ask even more questions. How could he not even respond?
I waited a few months, in some ways I kind of forgot about it. I had done pretty much everything I could. I had reached out, explained my perspective, offered forgiveness, and invited dialogue, I had no power over his response.
Early this year, God began to stir my heart again, and I felt that I had to make one more effort. I decided that I would call his office and just make sure he had gotten the letter I sent months earlier. I called on the day that he had typically taken off, wanting to talk to the secretary, and I was transferred to his assistant. She told me that he was out, but that she would check with him when he got back in the office the next week and get back to me. I thanked her, hung up, and waited again.
Tuesday while I was at work my phone range and his name appeared on the screen. I wasn't able to talk, so I let it go to voice mail. He didn't leave me a message, but called me a few more times throughout the day. When I got in my car that night to drive home I was about to call him back when my phone range again.
I answered, we talked. He explained that he hadn't responded because he had only just recently gotten my letter. At the time I had sent it he had suffered a stroke, and so his staff didn't give him anything that might have been upsetting and possibly cause more harm. He apologized for how I had felt, acknowledging the pain, and apologized for the situation I had faced. I told him I forgave him, we exchanged some brief updates on life, and opened possibility of meeting up in the future...
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
I wrote about things he had told me, ways he had encouraged me, pushed me, and guided me. I wrote about the wound, why it had hurt, how it made me feel, and the reaction I had afterwards. When I had finished, I sent it to the pastor who had asked me to write it, and then he asked me how I felt about calling him.
That idea wasn't something I was ready to do. First off, who calls someone for the first time in half a decade and says, "Hey, here's how you hurt me..." I can't imagine that conversation would go over so well. For the time being I decided to just sit on narrative I had written, and let God begin to work.
A few months later God was leading me to reach out and begin to seek restoration. I began talking to my pastor again, and he suggested that I begin by sending the narrative I had written to him. This sounded like the best first step, and so I wrote a letter, explaining what had happened with in my life and what had led me to reach out. I explained the narrative I was including and offered genuine forgiveness, then I opened the door to have continued conversation if he was interested. I mailed the letter and waited for a response, after a few weeks I had heard nothing back. I sent an email checking to make sure he had gotten it, and got no response. This lack of a reply added to my frustration, and it made me ask even more questions. How could he not even respond?
I waited a few months, in some ways I kind of forgot about it. I had done pretty much everything I could. I had reached out, explained my perspective, offered forgiveness, and invited dialogue, I had no power over his response.
Early this year, God began to stir my heart again, and I felt that I had to make one more effort. I decided that I would call his office and just make sure he had gotten the letter I sent months earlier. I called on the day that he had typically taken off, wanting to talk to the secretary, and I was transferred to his assistant. She told me that he was out, but that she would check with him when he got back in the office the next week and get back to me. I thanked her, hung up, and waited again.
Tuesday while I was at work my phone range and his name appeared on the screen. I wasn't able to talk, so I let it go to voice mail. He didn't leave me a message, but called me a few more times throughout the day. When I got in my car that night to drive home I was about to call him back when my phone range again.
I answered, we talked. He explained that he hadn't responded because he had only just recently gotten my letter. At the time I had sent it he had suffered a stroke, and so his staff didn't give him anything that might have been upsetting and possibly cause more harm. He apologized for how I had felt, acknowledging the pain, and apologized for the situation I had faced. I told him I forgave him, we exchanged some brief updates on life, and opened possibility of meeting up in the future...
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
Monday, September 17, 2018
The Wound I Made Worse, Impact
We didn't talk for years. I was hurt, and being pretty stubborn (I'm working on turning this into grit, the positive definition of this trait) I wasn't about to make a phone call or send a text. I simply let things fester. I didn't unfriend him on Facebook, but I made it so I didn't see his posts. I didn't want to talk to him, I didn't want to know how he was doing, I felt abandoned, and my immediate inclination was to build a wall and cut him out of my life.
I had no mentor at this point, I still met with pastors from the church I was attending from time to time, but I was guarded, not wanting to let anyone get close, build up my hopes, tell me about my potential, and then let me get abandoned again. I had read about the term "Ronin", a Samurai without a master, and in some ways thought of myself that way. Part of me really didn't want another mentor, part of me really just wanted to say "Screw it, I'll figure this life thing out for myself." That philosophy never worked out very well.
I didn't really trust anyone, and I didn't let anyone get close to me at this point. I was willing to let people in, but only so far. I would let different people see different parts of me, no one got the whole picture. I stopped paying attention to the affirmation and encouragement people would give me, I stopped seeking help and guidance from anyone, and in many ways stopped challenging myself.
In my mind, I was done; I wasn't going to contact him, and if he contacted me I wasn't going to respond. I was going to be spiteful and immature, but I didn't see it that way. I was hurting myself, letting bitterness fester, and I was only hurting myself. I didn't want to seek healing or restoration, but God had other plans...
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
I had no mentor at this point, I still met with pastors from the church I was attending from time to time, but I was guarded, not wanting to let anyone get close, build up my hopes, tell me about my potential, and then let me get abandoned again. I had read about the term "Ronin", a Samurai without a master, and in some ways thought of myself that way. Part of me really didn't want another mentor, part of me really just wanted to say "Screw it, I'll figure this life thing out for myself." That philosophy never worked out very well.
I didn't really trust anyone, and I didn't let anyone get close to me at this point. I was willing to let people in, but only so far. I would let different people see different parts of me, no one got the whole picture. I stopped paying attention to the affirmation and encouragement people would give me, I stopped seeking help and guidance from anyone, and in many ways stopped challenging myself.
In my mind, I was done; I wasn't going to contact him, and if he contacted me I wasn't going to respond. I was going to be spiteful and immature, but I didn't see it that way. I was hurting myself, letting bitterness fester, and I was only hurting myself. I didn't want to seek healing or restoration, but God had other plans...
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
Friday, September 14, 2018
The Wound I Made Worse, Aftermath
The last time he and I talked I did something that I had told him I would one day do, call him not seeking advice, but just to see how he was doing. I made that phone call and ended up leaving a voicemail because he didn't answer the phone. When he called me back a few days later we talked, I heard how he was doing, but the conversation felt like it didn't have much energy. We hung up, and that was the last time we spoke for a while.
After that I remember getting a single text message asking how things were going. I was frustrated and hurt at the time, and even though some elements were starting to look really good (I had found out at that point that I was going to be a daddy), I gave a simple response of "About the same", and that was the last interaction we had for years.
I let myself become angry and bitter. I was hurt, I was frustrated, and I was just ticked off. I stopped reaching out to people for advice, and just tried to figure a lot out on my own. I didn't express how I felt to the one person I could have told anything to, and instead began to let myself think very arrogant and mean thoughts. I got to the point where I hoped he would call and offer me a job just so I could turn it down.
I didn't try to reach out to him. I didn't seek his advice about starting grad school. I didn't ask him to be a reference when I applied for another church job. At a point when I probably could have used his guidance the most, I refused to reach out to him because of a combination of hurt, pride, and spite...
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
After that I remember getting a single text message asking how things were going. I was frustrated and hurt at the time, and even though some elements were starting to look really good (I had found out at that point that I was going to be a daddy), I gave a simple response of "About the same", and that was the last interaction we had for years.
I let myself become angry and bitter. I was hurt, I was frustrated, and I was just ticked off. I stopped reaching out to people for advice, and just tried to figure a lot out on my own. I didn't express how I felt to the one person I could have told anything to, and instead began to let myself think very arrogant and mean thoughts. I got to the point where I hoped he would call and offer me a job just so I could turn it down.
I didn't try to reach out to him. I didn't seek his advice about starting grad school. I didn't ask him to be a reference when I applied for another church job. At a point when I probably could have used his guidance the most, I refused to reach out to him because of a combination of hurt, pride, and spite...
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
Wednesday, September 12, 2018
The Wound I Made Worse, Inflicted
After leaving the church I had been pastoring, I began to attend the church my mentor was at. I was now ordained, so I didn't have an service time I had to keep going to obtain my ordination credentials, and so I wasn't doing any volunteer work with the church, for now I was just attending Sunday morning services. He had accepted the call to pastor this other church, announced it to the congregation, and began to make preparations to move. At the time I wasn't working and I was in the process of dealing with my last church experience, and so we would meet up to talk.
At everyone of these conversations I always had his words from years ago on my mind. So many times he had told me about the potential I had, about my gifting, and my spirit; I kept thinking about how he had told me countless times that he wanted to bring me on staff. He was now going to a church where he had the opportunity to do that. I was available, and the opportunity was there, and I kept waiting for him to bring it up, but he never did.
There were several times I wanted to ask him, but I was too afraid of hearing him say no. At that point I was in a really fragile state, and I'm honestly not sure how I would have handled the rejection of someone I looked at as a father. He moved, and I waited. I offered to help the church through the transitional period of looking for a new pastor, but this offer never went anywhere, and after a few weeks I began to attend a different church that was closer to where I lived, and they had Saturday night services, which freed up my Sunday mornings for sunrise hikes.
My mentor and I had a couple phone calls, mostly me asking for guidance or telling him about a job I was applying for and seeing if he could make a phone call to help me out. Part of me was still waiting and hoping he'd offer me a job, but I had begun to accept the reality that it wasn't going happen.
I was a time in my life when I probably needed him the most. I was unemployed, having been let go from another church, and carrying another wound, it was a rough time; I was failing in every area of worldly success. I saw someone who had the ability to help me, the ability to fix pretty much every issue I was focused on, and we never even had a conversation about it...
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
At everyone of these conversations I always had his words from years ago on my mind. So many times he had told me about the potential I had, about my gifting, and my spirit; I kept thinking about how he had told me countless times that he wanted to bring me on staff. He was now going to a church where he had the opportunity to do that. I was available, and the opportunity was there, and I kept waiting for him to bring it up, but he never did.
There were several times I wanted to ask him, but I was too afraid of hearing him say no. At that point I was in a really fragile state, and I'm honestly not sure how I would have handled the rejection of someone I looked at as a father. He moved, and I waited. I offered to help the church through the transitional period of looking for a new pastor, but this offer never went anywhere, and after a few weeks I began to attend a different church that was closer to where I lived, and they had Saturday night services, which freed up my Sunday mornings for sunrise hikes.
My mentor and I had a couple phone calls, mostly me asking for guidance or telling him about a job I was applying for and seeing if he could make a phone call to help me out. Part of me was still waiting and hoping he'd offer me a job, but I had begun to accept the reality that it wasn't going happen.
I was a time in my life when I probably needed him the most. I was unemployed, having been let go from another church, and carrying another wound, it was a rough time; I was failing in every area of worldly success. I saw someone who had the ability to help me, the ability to fix pretty much every issue I was focused on, and we never even had a conversation about it...
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
Monday, September 10, 2018
The Wound I Made Worse, Setup
In the summer of 2008 I had to do a senior internship as part of my undergraduate program. I had a church in mind that I wanted to do this internship with, but it was not part of the denomination, and so I was unable to do intern with this church for credit. Time was running out, and I hadn't found anywhere else to do my internship with, and then one of my professors suggested a place and set up a time for me to meet with the pastor. We met briefly, made arrangements, and I then I got ready for what would be the busiest summer of my life to date: two internships, part time job, and training for sprint triathlon (I was 21, I could do anything).
That internship ended up being a great experience. The pastor became a close friend and for a while my mentor. We met one on one every week and discussed various topics surrounding ministry and life, and we built a solid relationship. He introduced me to Chipotle, became a constant source of encouragement, and in many ways began to build me up in ways no one else ever had.
I went back to school in the fall, but we continued to stay in touch. I'd call him and ask him about what he thought about different papers I had to write, and whenever I was home I'd stop and see him. He even began to talk about wanting to bring me on as a staff member after I graduated. Things didn't end up working out that way due to the budget, but I ended up going back to intern there again the summer after I graduated.
This pastor continued to pour into my life. When I had questions, or things I wanted to talk about, he was the one I went to. When I got turned down for job after job I talked to him. When I got a job offer in Michigan, I talked to him. When I met this girl, and when that ended, I talked to him. He began to call me "son", and though I never called him "dad", part of me really wanted to, and in all honesty that was how I saw him.
I took the job in Michigan, talked to him every couple weeks, mostly when I had questions or had something I wanted to tell him about in my life, and we would grab Chipotle every time I came home. When my time in Michigan began to draw to a close, I talked with him, and when it did end, I made arrangements to do volunteer with the church there, again, the budget didn't allow for me to be hired, although I was told if they had the budget I would have been hired on the spot.
I went back for a few months, and then got hired as a lead pastor. Because of the situation I was assigned a pastoral mentor, and because of the relationship we had, he was assigned as my mentor. He talked me through a lot of difficult situations. My second Sunday at the church I was called to the hospital where a wife didn't know if her husband of over 60 years was going to make it through the night. I stepped out of the room, called my mentor, he talked me through what to do, prayed for me, and then after we hung up I broke down and cried, then washed my face in a drinking fountain and went to be a pastor. His guidance got me through that time. A few months later, he guided me through walking with a dying man towards eternity, and then through my first funeral.
He officiated my wedding, walked with me when I left the church, and continued to be an encourager. In the process of this, he told me that he had received a call to interview at another church. He told me about the situation, all of the factors he shouldn't get the job, the reasons part of him didn't want to take it, and asked me to be in prayer with him. When we got off the phone I said, "He's going to be moving." At this point part of me got a little excited. I was happy for him, he's a great man, a faithful and loving pastor, and I had been waiting for God to do something like this in his life. I also go excited because I thought this might finally be the time where we would get to work together. The denomination is set up where an incoming pastor can bring whomever he wants to join his staff. I hadn't forgotten about the things he used to say, and part of me believed that those things were finally going to happen...
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
That internship ended up being a great experience. The pastor became a close friend and for a while my mentor. We met one on one every week and discussed various topics surrounding ministry and life, and we built a solid relationship. He introduced me to Chipotle, became a constant source of encouragement, and in many ways began to build me up in ways no one else ever had.
I went back to school in the fall, but we continued to stay in touch. I'd call him and ask him about what he thought about different papers I had to write, and whenever I was home I'd stop and see him. He even began to talk about wanting to bring me on as a staff member after I graduated. Things didn't end up working out that way due to the budget, but I ended up going back to intern there again the summer after I graduated.
This pastor continued to pour into my life. When I had questions, or things I wanted to talk about, he was the one I went to. When I got turned down for job after job I talked to him. When I got a job offer in Michigan, I talked to him. When I met this girl, and when that ended, I talked to him. He began to call me "son", and though I never called him "dad", part of me really wanted to, and in all honesty that was how I saw him.
I took the job in Michigan, talked to him every couple weeks, mostly when I had questions or had something I wanted to tell him about in my life, and we would grab Chipotle every time I came home. When my time in Michigan began to draw to a close, I talked with him, and when it did end, I made arrangements to do volunteer with the church there, again, the budget didn't allow for me to be hired, although I was told if they had the budget I would have been hired on the spot.
I went back for a few months, and then got hired as a lead pastor. Because of the situation I was assigned a pastoral mentor, and because of the relationship we had, he was assigned as my mentor. He talked me through a lot of difficult situations. My second Sunday at the church I was called to the hospital where a wife didn't know if her husband of over 60 years was going to make it through the night. I stepped out of the room, called my mentor, he talked me through what to do, prayed for me, and then after we hung up I broke down and cried, then washed my face in a drinking fountain and went to be a pastor. His guidance got me through that time. A few months later, he guided me through walking with a dying man towards eternity, and then through my first funeral.
He officiated my wedding, walked with me when I left the church, and continued to be an encourager. In the process of this, he told me that he had received a call to interview at another church. He told me about the situation, all of the factors he shouldn't get the job, the reasons part of him didn't want to take it, and asked me to be in prayer with him. When we got off the phone I said, "He's going to be moving." At this point part of me got a little excited. I was happy for him, he's a great man, a faithful and loving pastor, and I had been waiting for God to do something like this in his life. I also go excited because I thought this might finally be the time where we would get to work together. The denomination is set up where an incoming pastor can bring whomever he wants to join his staff. I hadn't forgotten about the things he used to say, and part of me believed that those things were finally going to happen...
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
Friday, September 7, 2018
The Misplaced Wound, Healing Part 2: The Real Wound
I can't describe how that revelation felt. For so long I had been hung up on the wrong moment. I had never talked about this part of my time in Michigan with anyone, I'd mentioned the meeting several times, but I had never once brought up this complaint with how I addressed God in prayer. As I've reflected on this, I've started to see the impact that this event had on me. It was at this point that things had started to change for me. My own personal prayer life began to diminish, I stopped singing on Sunday mornings (I would sit in the front and look through my Bible, it looked reverent and worshipful), and I began to lose intimacy with God. That moment was the one that had shaped everything about my time in Michigan.
I sat there on the front pew, tears starting to come to my eyes. There was a sense of freedom in that moment, I had been held captive by something I didn't even realize was an issue, and I had been carrying a burden for so long that I wasn't even aware of. I began to write, simply crying out to my Daddy, a little boy who was safe in the arms of his almighty father. It was good.
I stayed in the sanctuary for about two hours, until I felt that God told me we were done. I walked down to the fellowship hall where our young adult group used to meet, poked my head in the youth room where I had led teens, and on my way back to thank the pastor and say good-bye I stopped to see the classroom where that meeting had taken place. This church has a very long hall way, one of those you need to be in to actually grasp how long it is. There were more class rooms than I remembered, and I couldn't remember which room that particular meeting had taken place in. This was further confirmation that this was not the real wound that I had been dealt.
I thanked the pastor for allowing me to have this time, and before I left I wrote another note and buried it under one of the bushes outside of my old office. I offered forgiveness to people who had no idea they had wounded me, and then I headed back home to Ohio, stopping at Cabela's on the way. I saw no one I knew, spent more time in the car than I did at the church, but God led me there, and He met with me there.
While this wound has been healed, there are still some of the effects that I'm dealing with. I'm still working to grow closer to God, seeking that intimacy with Him that I used to know. Life is different now, I've got a lot more scars, experienced a lot more, and have way more on my plate than I did back then, but all of this has helped me learn more about who God is and who I am to be as a result.
This wound has impacted the way I see church, and church people. I struggle with the traditional American Church model, and I find myself questioning a lot about how things are done. My experience here influenced me as a lead pastor, a role I took on seven months after leaving Michigan, and impacted how I led the church I was given to pastor.
This wound has impacted my worship (defined as musical participation during church services for this explanation). Since Michigan, I've had a hard time singing on Sunday morning. I've gone back and forth between standing with my head bowed and my mouth on my fist, sitting with my head bowed and face on folded hands, and standing with my hands in my pockets and glancing somewhat heavenward. Occasionally I'll engage in a few lyrics, but most of the time I simply take in everyone else singing. This bothers me. I struggle to connect with my emotions, especially around strangers (that what happens when you're a logic driven introvert). This is something I'm working to personally address in my own life, and I think my own personal journey is beginning to directly focus on this.
This wound was subtle, but it was powerful, and there is still work to be done in the areas this wound impacted. Knowing the real wound was the first step to healing.
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
I sat there on the front pew, tears starting to come to my eyes. There was a sense of freedom in that moment, I had been held captive by something I didn't even realize was an issue, and I had been carrying a burden for so long that I wasn't even aware of. I began to write, simply crying out to my Daddy, a little boy who was safe in the arms of his almighty father. It was good.
I stayed in the sanctuary for about two hours, until I felt that God told me we were done. I walked down to the fellowship hall where our young adult group used to meet, poked my head in the youth room where I had led teens, and on my way back to thank the pastor and say good-bye I stopped to see the classroom where that meeting had taken place. This church has a very long hall way, one of those you need to be in to actually grasp how long it is. There were more class rooms than I remembered, and I couldn't remember which room that particular meeting had taken place in. This was further confirmation that this was not the real wound that I had been dealt.
I thanked the pastor for allowing me to have this time, and before I left I wrote another note and buried it under one of the bushes outside of my old office. I offered forgiveness to people who had no idea they had wounded me, and then I headed back home to Ohio, stopping at Cabela's on the way. I saw no one I knew, spent more time in the car than I did at the church, but God led me there, and He met with me there.
While this wound has been healed, there are still some of the effects that I'm dealing with. I'm still working to grow closer to God, seeking that intimacy with Him that I used to know. Life is different now, I've got a lot more scars, experienced a lot more, and have way more on my plate than I did back then, but all of this has helped me learn more about who God is and who I am to be as a result.
This wound has impacted the way I see church, and church people. I struggle with the traditional American Church model, and I find myself questioning a lot about how things are done. My experience here influenced me as a lead pastor, a role I took on seven months after leaving Michigan, and impacted how I led the church I was given to pastor.
This wound has impacted my worship (defined as musical participation during church services for this explanation). Since Michigan, I've had a hard time singing on Sunday morning. I've gone back and forth between standing with my head bowed and my mouth on my fist, sitting with my head bowed and face on folded hands, and standing with my hands in my pockets and glancing somewhat heavenward. Occasionally I'll engage in a few lyrics, but most of the time I simply take in everyone else singing. This bothers me. I struggle to connect with my emotions, especially around strangers (that what happens when you're a logic driven introvert). This is something I'm working to personally address in my own life, and I think my own personal journey is beginning to directly focus on this.
This wound was subtle, but it was powerful, and there is still work to be done in the areas this wound impacted. Knowing the real wound was the first step to healing.
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
Wednesday, September 5, 2018
The Misplaced Wound, Healing Part 1: Off to Michigan
For a couple years I had felt that God was leading me go back to Michigan, this was the first place I really felt called to return to. I put it off for about two years, mainly because I wasn't ready, and in all honesty I didn't want to go back. I had been hurt, and I wasn't eager to return to a place that had cast me out. God kept putting it on my heart, and I kept pushing it to the side, I don't even think I mentioned it to anyone for two or three years. I had been back to Michigan since leaving, there's a huge Christmas store, Bronner's, that I've taken my daughters too and to get there you drive past the exit I used to get off at to get to my old apartment and the church.
I had been back to the church I had pastored, and God kept putting it on my heart to go back to Michigan, so I mentioned it to a couple people this time, asking them to pray with me about going. I got on the church website to see if the church was even still open (I had some doubts that it would be) and when I did I found that there was a new pastor. The people who I talked to confirmed that I should go, and since this lined up with what God had been telling me for years, I began to try and get in touch with the pastor.
I sent an email, and go not response. I reached out to a couple of the young adults I knew from the church to see if they had a personal email for him, and got no response. I reached out to a couple other pastors I knew in the area asking for anyway to get in touch with the pastor, and no one seemed to have any personal contact information for him. It got to the point where I was about to just drive up there and sit in the parking lot, something I wasn't big on, but it felt like it might be my only option, and God was leading me to go. I finally called the church directly, and ended up sending him another email, letting him know more specifically what I was wanting to do, and this time, a week before I had planned to go, I got a response. We had a phone conversation, and the pastor agreed to let me come and spend some time in prayer, and even said he'd be around if I needed anything.
The morning came, I woke up early, made a note on a 3x5 card "Off to Michigan to kill a lion", and began the four hour drive to Flint. I actually filmed my day, part of me is interested in trying to get into YouTube so this was my first attempt, you can see the video at: http://proverbs1824brothers.blogspot.com/2017/08/trying-something-new-by-will.html
I got to the church and took it all in; very little had changed in the past seven years. I met the pastor, and he walked with me into the sanctuary. He told me he would be in his office if I needed anything and then gave me some words of wisdom. I don't remember exactly what he said, my mind was a little distracted, but the gist of it was that people in the church make mistakes, doing what they think is right and biblical, and that I shouldn't hold it against them (I'm not capturing what he said well at all, it made a lot of sense actually led me to the discovery I needed to make).
He left me alone, I put my bag down on the from pew where I used to sit each Sunday morning, and then I began to walk around the sanctuary; it was a lot smaller than I remembered. As I walked and began talking to God something came to my mind that I hadn't thought of in years. When I had started at the church there they put me in charge of the offering Sunday mornings. I would share a bit about what the teens had studied the previous week, relate it to tithing, and then pray. I used to pray by addressing God as "Daddy" (Romans 8.15; Galatians 4.6). It was the way I prayed and the way I connected with God, and it just came out when I prayed on Sunday mornings.
The first few weeks nothing was said, but after about a month the pastor asked me about it, said some older people in the church had said something about it, and so I said I wouldn't use that term on Sunday morning any more; to me it wasn't a hill worth dying on. The first Sunday morning where I didn't say it, one of the older board members came up to me after words and said, "Thank you for changing that." At the time I didn't think anything of it, but as I sat there, in the same spot where that man had spoken to me it hit me, that was the real wound. The wound that had been inflicted hadn't happened in a meeting, but in the sanctuary over the way I addressed God in prayer...
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
I had been back to the church I had pastored, and God kept putting it on my heart to go back to Michigan, so I mentioned it to a couple people this time, asking them to pray with me about going. I got on the church website to see if the church was even still open (I had some doubts that it would be) and when I did I found that there was a new pastor. The people who I talked to confirmed that I should go, and since this lined up with what God had been telling me for years, I began to try and get in touch with the pastor.
I sent an email, and go not response. I reached out to a couple of the young adults I knew from the church to see if they had a personal email for him, and got no response. I reached out to a couple other pastors I knew in the area asking for anyway to get in touch with the pastor, and no one seemed to have any personal contact information for him. It got to the point where I was about to just drive up there and sit in the parking lot, something I wasn't big on, but it felt like it might be my only option, and God was leading me to go. I finally called the church directly, and ended up sending him another email, letting him know more specifically what I was wanting to do, and this time, a week before I had planned to go, I got a response. We had a phone conversation, and the pastor agreed to let me come and spend some time in prayer, and even said he'd be around if I needed anything.
The morning came, I woke up early, made a note on a 3x5 card "Off to Michigan to kill a lion", and began the four hour drive to Flint. I actually filmed my day, part of me is interested in trying to get into YouTube so this was my first attempt, you can see the video at: http://proverbs1824brothers.blogspot.com/2017/08/trying-something-new-by-will.html
I got to the church and took it all in; very little had changed in the past seven years. I met the pastor, and he walked with me into the sanctuary. He told me he would be in his office if I needed anything and then gave me some words of wisdom. I don't remember exactly what he said, my mind was a little distracted, but the gist of it was that people in the church make mistakes, doing what they think is right and biblical, and that I shouldn't hold it against them (I'm not capturing what he said well at all, it made a lot of sense actually led me to the discovery I needed to make).
He left me alone, I put my bag down on the from pew where I used to sit each Sunday morning, and then I began to walk around the sanctuary; it was a lot smaller than I remembered. As I walked and began talking to God something came to my mind that I hadn't thought of in years. When I had started at the church there they put me in charge of the offering Sunday mornings. I would share a bit about what the teens had studied the previous week, relate it to tithing, and then pray. I used to pray by addressing God as "Daddy" (Romans 8.15; Galatians 4.6). It was the way I prayed and the way I connected with God, and it just came out when I prayed on Sunday mornings.
The first few weeks nothing was said, but after about a month the pastor asked me about it, said some older people in the church had said something about it, and so I said I wouldn't use that term on Sunday morning any more; to me it wasn't a hill worth dying on. The first Sunday morning where I didn't say it, one of the older board members came up to me after words and said, "Thank you for changing that." At the time I didn't think anything of it, but as I sat there, in the same spot where that man had spoken to me it hit me, that was the real wound. The wound that had been inflicted hadn't happened in a meeting, but in the sanctuary over the way I addressed God in prayer...
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
Monday, September 3, 2018
The Misplaced Wound, Impact
I've been thinking about this post for the past few days, and honestly I'm not even sure what to write. This whole series of posts on this particular wound have been difficult to write about. That may simply be because of the nature of the wound and my understanding of it, I'm thinking that talking about the healing process will clear a lot up.
I've been looking back at my time in Michigan, and part of me really doesn't know why God sent me there. I was there for 10 months, of the two ministries I started, one didn't last as long as I did, and one gradually dwindled over the next year or so, and then it was cancelled. I've lost touch with everyone from when I was up there, occasionally I'll get a Facebook from one of my teens/young adults, but those are becoming fewer and farther between. Even the people outside of the church I was close to, the Thursday morning youth pastors, the couple that became my Michigan parents, and the two other youth pastors I built good friendships with, communication has dwindled.
This wound impacted me in how I see church leadership, and the older generation. It got me to start looking at military chaplaincy (part of me is still really interested in this, but I don't know if that door is going to open). It got me to really start thinking about the importance of vision, though it would be several years before I even began to formulate my own vision for an organization.
I know that nothing is wasted, that God uses all things to work to mold me into the image of Christ, but part of me still has no idea why He sent me to Michigan, to this church, to these teens and young adults. It may have been for me. The move to Michigan gave me the opportunity for closure in another area (More on this in a few weeks), it gave me a heart for new college graduates entering ministry, and it put me fully on my own, without any support system or relationships at all, for the first time. And maybe the impact was simply for God to be able to bring healing.
Tozer said, "It's doubtful that God can bless a man greatly until He has hurt him deeply." I don't have the brain power or emotional energy right now to begin to delve into the idea of God causing deep pain, but this may simply have been a moment of causing deep hurt in order to bring about great blessing in the future. This experience led to other painful experiences, and it made me ask a lot of questions.
Again, I don't know that I have a good answer on this one, but keep reading, because the healing is where all of this began to make sense for me, and hopefully it helps someone out there move towards healing in their own life...
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
I've been looking back at my time in Michigan, and part of me really doesn't know why God sent me there. I was there for 10 months, of the two ministries I started, one didn't last as long as I did, and one gradually dwindled over the next year or so, and then it was cancelled. I've lost touch with everyone from when I was up there, occasionally I'll get a Facebook from one of my teens/young adults, but those are becoming fewer and farther between. Even the people outside of the church I was close to, the Thursday morning youth pastors, the couple that became my Michigan parents, and the two other youth pastors I built good friendships with, communication has dwindled.
This wound impacted me in how I see church leadership, and the older generation. It got me to start looking at military chaplaincy (part of me is still really interested in this, but I don't know if that door is going to open). It got me to really start thinking about the importance of vision, though it would be several years before I even began to formulate my own vision for an organization.
I know that nothing is wasted, that God uses all things to work to mold me into the image of Christ, but part of me still has no idea why He sent me to Michigan, to this church, to these teens and young adults. It may have been for me. The move to Michigan gave me the opportunity for closure in another area (More on this in a few weeks), it gave me a heart for new college graduates entering ministry, and it put me fully on my own, without any support system or relationships at all, for the first time. And maybe the impact was simply for God to be able to bring healing.
Tozer said, "It's doubtful that God can bless a man greatly until He has hurt him deeply." I don't have the brain power or emotional energy right now to begin to delve into the idea of God causing deep pain, but this may simply have been a moment of causing deep hurt in order to bring about great blessing in the future. This experience led to other painful experiences, and it made me ask a lot of questions.
Again, I don't know that I have a good answer on this one, but keep reading, because the healing is where all of this began to make sense for me, and hopefully it helps someone out there move towards healing in their own life...
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
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