Stuck

July 27, 2019

It was supposed to be two weeks. That was the initial agreement, to which I added another four. But when I asked the Boss what the plans were following those four, the answer was, “Would you be willing to stay till next July?” I was, and when that July was approaching, again I asked the Boss what the plans were. “Would you stay another year?” I did, agreeing at the end of it to stay on till other arrangements could be made. 

And so here I am, working on year three at the Dunkirk church. It wasn’t my plan, but as so often happens, the interruptions are blessings in disguise. I’ve learned a lot, never having pastored a city church before. The cultural mix of Hispanic, Black, and White, has been interesting, even exhilarating, and the people I met I’ve grown to love. I’ve said it privately, but I’ll say it publicly: I wish I had come here years ago. My age and energy is working against me; the only thing I have going is my love for the people and my belief that God is far from done with what he wants to see happen here. When I first came, I told them that I didn’t come to preside over an ecclesial funeral. We’re not dead yet; in fact, there’s a lot of life here. 

Every Saturday night, I scroll through my list—

“Did I prepare enough?” —No.

“Did I pray enough?” —No.

“Is the sermon clear enough?” —No.

“Do the people deserve better than this?” —Yes.

“Isn’t there someone who could do a better job?” —There must be.

There’s more to it than that, but you get the idea. I guess God figures bumbling willingness is worth more than capable unwillingness. No one has held a gun to my head to keep me doing what I do. I just happen to believe it amazing that God would not only allow me to partner with him, but actually choose me to do so. It wouldn’t take much for him to find someone more capable and qualified. Some day, I’m sure he will. Until then, these poor folks are stuck with me, and I am stuck with them...for which I am thankful tonight.