There's a lot of spiritual warfare over the church that we go to. You can sense it, see it, feel it course up your arm when you shake hands with the pastor. When I finally worked up the courage to share that with someone else, it wasn't met with shock, or defensiveness, but with a nod, a quick dip of the eyes, and then hearty agreement. Again, and again. I am by no means alone in my assessment.
And yet, no one seems to know quite what's going on. Least of all, me.
I was so sheltered at James River. I was the baby. The one people watched out for, and took in, and brought along. A pastoral scandal broke out, and five people called to make sure I was okay.
And then the cancer ripped me from James River, twisting and turning my life around, and eventually setting me down in Pittsburgh, and my favor was over. Not only was I grown, but I found myself in a culture in which growth and teaching and community and rearing is regarded really differently.
I often feel like I'm just drifting, alone. Not maritally, my husband rules. But when it comes to growth, and woman-to-woman mentorship and discipleship. Drifting. I've tried to reach out, and those meetings are great. But they're just that--meetings, one-offs.
That sense of drift and isolation when paired with the brokenness of church politics has bruised the heck out of me over the last year. And for a minute, I started to think the church wasn't for me. (I know that you're never supposed to admit that when your husband is trying to be a pastor.) I started to believe again that I could never be happy in the church, and that we are all just too broken, and too sinful, to really be the church.
And then, James River to the rescue. Again. I started listening to my old pastor's sermons, which of course turn you right to scripture. And in Matthew 3 and 4, I saw the Spirit. First, in Matthew 3, the Spirit descends like a dove onto the Lord, and then just in the next book (!), the Spirit drives him into the wilderness where he spends 40 days being tempted by Satan.
Weird, right? Gentle, and then insistent. Tender, and then firm. Settling down in reassuring love, and then pushing towards back-breaking growth.
And I thought...is that what has been happening to me? The gentle, reassuring kiss from God that was James River, settling me down into comfortable and easy life with him, growing me and loving me, and calling me his own. And then, the cancer. Then the spiritual cancer. The Spirit driving me out into the wilderness. The battle for my soul, and my faith, and my husband's calling.
After Jesus was driven to the wilderness, he entered active ministry. Not for nothing.
I often feel like I'm just drifting, alone. Not maritally, my husband rules. But when it comes to growth, and woman-to-woman mentorship and discipleship. Drifting. I've tried to reach out, and those meetings are great. But they're just that--meetings, one-offs.
That sense of drift and isolation when paired with the brokenness of church politics has bruised the heck out of me over the last year. And for a minute, I started to think the church wasn't for me. (I know that you're never supposed to admit that when your husband is trying to be a pastor.) I started to believe again that I could never be happy in the church, and that we are all just too broken, and too sinful, to really be the church.
And then, James River to the rescue. Again. I started listening to my old pastor's sermons, which of course turn you right to scripture. And in Matthew 3 and 4, I saw the Spirit. First, in Matthew 3, the Spirit descends like a dove onto the Lord, and then just in the next book (!), the Spirit drives him into the wilderness where he spends 40 days being tempted by Satan.
Weird, right? Gentle, and then insistent. Tender, and then firm. Settling down in reassuring love, and then pushing towards back-breaking growth.
And I thought...is that what has been happening to me? The gentle, reassuring kiss from God that was James River, settling me down into comfortable and easy life with him, growing me and loving me, and calling me his own. And then, the cancer. Then the spiritual cancer. The Spirit driving me out into the wilderness. The battle for my soul, and my faith, and my husband's calling.
After Jesus was driven to the wilderness, he entered active ministry. Not for nothing.
I'm so glad you're writing again! And I have been feeling the same thing here - all of it (minus the cancer part). I've taken to listening again to JR podcasts lately to find some more "meat." I feel like I'm in the wilderness, waiting for God to bring us into the next thing. And He is and will be faithful. But the waiting is long. And hard. Keep writing!
ReplyDeleteHey lady! So good to see you back here. Long AND hard, yes, amen, times a thousand. I'm so grateful to know that I'm not the only one who has felt this way--thanks for sharing. Will be in prayer for you friend! Thanks for the kind words.
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