Monday, August 27, 2018

A Brief View from the Front Pew

Rarely do I open my private life to a public forum. I don't have a Facebook account; I seldom post personal pics on Instagram. I use Twitter mostly for professional purposes. I have my numerous reasons for such a counter-culture move. I don't like exposing my life to hundreds. Okay, dozens. (Sigh) Maybe 2 dozen....

That being said, I want to open up in this post. I want to share some renewed insights to a lifelong quest.

Recently, I found myself in my church's worship center. I go there often. From time to time, I take my pastoral staff there to pray. It's a lovely place, as far as traditional churches go. This was my view, complete with the lack of artificial lighting.


As I sat there, meditating on the Lord, contemplating my role as senior pastor of a once capacity-filled congregation, I sensed a quiet nudge from the Holy Spirit. He does that, you know. Your thoughts may be going one direction and then the Holy Spirit nudges you to go another.

Or maybe He taps you on the shoulder on the side He wants you to look.

Or maybe He lifts your chin, if you are downcast.

MAYBE....maybe He takes you by both shoulders and forces you to "make eye contact."

All I know is quietly, simply, and gently, I sensed the presence of the Lord. It was as though He sat down right beside me, looking at the same pulpit that held my attention.  Then, after a eternal second, He spoke. He used words and He spoke. Penetrating words flooded my heart, then my mind.

"Without me, you can do nothing." -- John 15:5c. These were not words spoken in anger. They were not words of criticism. This was the purest love you would ever know.

He spoke, then I did. "I know, Lord. I know."

My heart and mouth was suddenly filled with confession of the truth to the Truth:

"I can't preach without you. I can't be a pastor without you. I can't be a husband without you. I can't be a father without you. I can't be a grandfather without you."

I probably said more. But If I did, my lack of memory likely means those words were not meant for public consumption.

The moment was sacred. Sharing it is not easily done. Still, I thought that these words could help someone over a rough patch in their journey. If not, at least you got a peek inside an aging preacher's heart. So, in a rare return to the blogosphere, I share a brief view from the front pew.

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