David Kenney

photo credit: a4gpa

- The Other Side -

Someone tells you a story and you think you have all the facts, but then someone else with a raised hand says, “now, let me tell you the other side” and a whole new picture begins to form in your head.

Jesus comes along and says, “try the other side” – “try the right side” – the side of authority, try things my way – try the Jesus approach… and what happens?

Perhaps the traditional and the “been there done that” is coming up with diddly squat and you look around and wonder – well what would happen if we sailed off to deeper waters? What would happen if we tried things just a bit differently?

I think then we begin to dwell in the places that are holy and new and maybe the places and faces are unfamiliar and frightening, but the reward is… well.. unimaginable.

This is what I want to explore this Sunday…

Yes,  it’s true – some pastor was crazy enough to relinquish his pulpit to me and I will be preaching Sunday the 5th at 7pm at the Ethos service at Neighborhood Christian Fellowship in Covina California. (directions and address at the web site). You can also RSVP on the facebook page.

Please retweet this and repost this as much as possible, I would love to pack the place out with new and exciting faces, and if you are a reader of this blog, I would certainly love to meet you. Even if you can’t make it, I would love it if you could help me promote it.   Of course it will be recorded and I will post the sermon here after the 5th, but I would love to see everyone there.

Thank you

p.s. we need a drummer

photo credit: pink_fish13

So during this whole adventure I have been wrestling with a very real question. Can I call myself a pastor when I technically don’t have a church? I quickly jump to the thought that it’s like calling yourself a shepherd when you don’t have any sheep. I guess if you were looking for work and hanging out at the local shepherd bar (or do shepherd’s hang out at pubs?) I guess I could hear one of them say, “I am a shepherd by trade; like my Pappy and his Pappy before him,” but who says “by trade” anymore? (or pappy?) I love old vernaculars as much as the next guy, but I don’t fancy I will  be saying “by trade” after I say “I am a pastor.”

I know there are a handful of people who still think of me as their pastor, but is that like being a chameleon? I am only a pastor when I am around them, and then the rest of the time I am just me?

It’s true I graduated from seminary and it’s true I was ordained by my denomination, but technically neither of those two things makes me a pastor. One gave me a master’s degree – which would be cool if once you got a “Master’s degree” people would call you “Master” much like when people get a doctorate they can get called “Doctor” (that made me think of a Seinfeld episode) I think more people would pursue this degree if it could become your nome de plume.

The other gave me the title “Reverend,” which I assume is some take on the word revered; like to adore or to venerate. Which is doubly weird, because I don’t consider myself someone who should be adored. It’s even further odd that my denomination bequeathed on me a title originally made famous by the Roman Catholic Church. “Reverend” is one of those sacred Latin words “technically” only made untouchable because it’s Latin.

Going back to the word “Pastor…” This word in the Greek really does come from the word meaning shepherd. If you think about it hard enough, “Pastor” sounds like Pasture and should make you think of fields of flowing grass and not Louis Pasteur.

Ephesians 4:11 is the only time the word is translated as our English word pastor: It was he who gave some to be apostles, some to be prophets, some to be evangelists, and some to be pastors and teachers. (NIV)

In fact, one could make the argument that nobody other that Jesus is ever given an actual “title” in scripture.  Thomas is not called “Thomas the doubter” and Mary isn’t called “Virgin Mary.” And before you turn in your bibles, no -Paul isn’t called “Apostle Paul” either. Paul is an apostle, like saying John is a lumberjack, but nobody says, “Oh that is lumberjack John.” When we talk like that it’s like we live in a children’s book where everyone is called by their job title.

So calling myself a “reverend” seems right out as it feels to me like only a word we would use to describe our Lord. I am not a person to be revered or worshiped or…. what was that other word? Oh yea, venerated. Don’t venerate me.

So that goes back to what I can call myself? Should I not even worry about it? Should I just say, “I used to be a pastor?” But then that sounds like it opens up a pile of questions itself? Oooh what happened? Well, nothing “happened” I’m just not with a church right now.

That’s why I love clerical collars, you kind of look like Neo and nobody asks you what you do for a living, they just know by your cervic adornments.

The reason I bring this up is that I sometimes still get asked at work, “so what did you do before this?” It’s like being what you used to be in a former life I guess. Life before Disney. So I usually just say, “I’m an ordained minister.” I know it sounds kinda catholic, but I think it’s more accurate than saying I am a pastor.

First by saying “ordained” we get past the squishy odd “reverend” word, but still indicate that my title is official. I didn’t get my title off the internet or on the back of a box of mini wheats.

Second by saying I am a “minister” it implies that I am in the ministry or that I minister to others. See whereas  ”Pastor” implies I currently have a flock, “minister” simply means that I serve others. And I like the word “minister,” I always have. In fact, I think everyone in the church is a minister (or at least should be). And minister is more of a noun than a title. “Minister David” doesn’t roll off the tongue like “Pastor Dave” does. (Oh that’s another conversation. I have a friend who believes all Pastor’s should have single syllable names, so once the title goes on you need to shorten your name to Steve or Bob or Lance).

At one time I was thinking it would be fun and creative to make up my own titles for all of the jobs in a church. That way when visitors went to your church website they’d see that instead of having a sound technician, your church has a “Manager of targeted Media Empowerment;” and instead of a youth pastor your church had a “Deputy strategist in charge of teenage paradigms.” But now I think those titles wouldn’t fit on a business card very well.

Perhaps titles are better left to when they are given by others.  My wife would call me her husband, but I don’t introduce myself to others as “Joanna’s husband,” nor would I introduce myself as someone’s “best friend.” So until a church decides to call me the pastor, I think I will stick with “minister” … either that or “Apostle of untargeted faith based networking.”

What do you think?

photo credit: bradleygee

My schedule so far at D-land has been really strange. It seems right after they finished training me for my area, got me all signed off and “official;”  they move me to other parts of the park. Tonight and tomorrow I have two all night shifts working the dance floor for a local hip hop radio station – and then for four or five days after that I am working various routes as crowd control for fireworks and water shows. Each time they move me it requires a different uniform and a random schedule.

What is funny is that the girl who was hired and trained with me continues to get nice steady hours.  She works these nice mid 8 hour shifts and I am sure she is making almost $100 more than me a week. What is weirder is, I don’t know why I care, or why I am so jealous? I mean, this isn’t a career path for me, I just wanted the diversion, the extra money and the chance to say, “I did this.” But now that I am in the thick of it, I want to be more and more apart of it.

I think it has to do with acceptance and feeling appreciated.

More hours equals “we like you” I guess.

It’s the same way in the break room. I work with a lot of nineteen year old girls and the “hip” thing to do seems to be gossip. Who is dating who? Who is a terrible worker? Who is mean? Who is cute? And again… I don’t want to be that involved or that entrenched in this job, but the desire to be included, and spoken to is so high that the temptation is there to talk behind people’s backs.

So for a job that I wanted to be somewhat removed from – I have these feelings of wanting to belong and to be accepted and to be “in” on both a corporate and a personal level; and I wasn’t expecting that.

It’s human nature to want to be in community, I guess.

Take church for instance. My wife and I have been church hopping since “the great divorce” and recently after twenty or so churches, I am calling an end to it. I am tired of it, I want to start fitting in somewhere, and being able to put my son in a nursery where they all know him.

I am taking our family flag out and planting it in the ground.

I want to know some of the parents, I want to go to church events again, I want to take communion with people I love and care about, and more importantly… I want to finish a sermon series all the way through!

You can’t do any of that when you go from church to church. You listen to the announcements with an out-of-body-experience knowing that “this isn’t really your life.” The desire to be accepted, belong and the desire to talk and share and laugh and cry in community I think is a real force that needs to be satisfied.

So after twenty or so churches we have found a new home. Well,  not a “home home” but at least a “foster home” until our real church parents find us. It’s mid-sized, close by and has an amazing teacher (which says a lot for me). They have a terrific campus and a wonderful worship leader.  I’d say more, but then you’d want to go there too and I like to keep things underground for a while.

Hopefully finding community at church will abide my desire to belong at work and I can relax a little.

I suppose I was worried all this time that if I found a place to belong, eventually I would have to remove myself from it. I’ll have to say ‘goodbye’ to everyone at work and the closer we get to church friends the harder it will be to say ‘goodbye’ to them as well. Community has its costs.  But now, after having not been in community for so long, I think the distant protection thing I was doing, hurts more.

It hurts more to be on the outside than it does to say goodbye.

It hurts more to be alone.

One last thing, and don’t get me wrong – this new church isn’t so great that they reached out to us and welcomed us in. I still don’t think ANY church we have visited in all of this time has been exceedingly welcoming. So it wasn’t the hospitality that made us feel at home. Which is sad – because it should be. No, we are finding a home here out of a sense of tiredness and urgency. But it reminds me all the more how important it is to reach out to the guests among us.

So many verses in the bible talk about how to treat guests, the traveler and the stranger amongst us. I think we forget that we’re not a community unless there is a friend on our right and on our left.

[LAST] [NEXT]

bloo
photo credit: the Figbar

When I was a kid, I probably got into about 4 or 5 fights. And I actually don’t remember if many of them came to blows or if fists were actually thrown, I just remember the events as being the times when I was surrounded and helpless. But before I got into greater detail, I must warn you that at least 3 of these occurrences were fights with girls and no, I didn’t start them.

In fact, I have never started a fight or picked on someone before.

No, I have always been the short skinny kid who liked to play with action figures.  I couldn’t throw a ball or a Frisbee and while other kids had pool parties and sleep overs, I was making “movie sets” in my neighbors backyard.

I was that kid.

So maybe those kids are fun to beat up, maybe I had a big mouth, I honestly don’t remember what drew others to push me around.

We’ll say that they all happened between fourth and sixth grade. After I started middle school there was only one occurrence; and it wasn’t really a confrontation, it was just a “thing” that happened. I used to have really greesy hair and the kids made fun of me for it, and one day in P.E. I was sitting on my number for roll call and before the teacher came out another kid came up behind me and wiped the mud from his shoe off in my hair.

I didn’t move or say anything. He was bigger and stronger than me and the life I had lived before this had prepared me to just take it and let it go. It’s ok, the year after that I watched a friend of mine light this kids hair on fire with a lighter – so he and I are “even.”

My first memory of a fight took place at Seely Park when my brother and I were riding bikes. The street bully “Corey” and his gang of thugs surrounded us both and began calling us names and offering the usual threats.

“Do you want me to beat you up?”

How does a kid respond to that question? “Yes please.”

In fact, in this memory, I think it was more my brother who was taking the abuse and I just happened to be with him. I remember feeling unable to protect my brother, or to ward of this band of malcontents, so in this situation I believe I tried to make fun of myself to make the bullies laugh so that they would leave us alone. I wonder what my brother remembers of this moment, I don’t know.

Years later Corey stole my bike from Summer school and tried taking it apart to play a joke on me. My parents called the cops on him and the police officer told me that he made Corey cry. So Corey and I are also “even.”

The second fight – my brother and I were again on our bikes and we were collecting money for the local paper “the green sheet.” It was a newspaper scam that my brother and I were somehow roped into  by my parents. Apparently it was a free paper, but you paid the delivery boys for the “service” of getting it to your door. In hindsight we were actually asking for donations, but we always called it “collecting.” At one of the homes of our “subscribers” (which is laughable because everyone on the street got the paper) a girl who I went to school with answered the door.

Her name was Jennifer and her parents were not home.

Jennifer was taller than my mom and probably stronger than her too. She proceeded to push my down her lawn over to my bike where a group of her little friends (holding dollys) were standing around egging her on. I remember she didn’t like me, called me names and what not; again I don’t remember why. Either way, I know she had hit me or pushed me into my bike because I remember the knee in my pants were ripped and I limped home pushing my bike.

The third time was in the Nature Area behind Thomas Kelly school. I larger girl from another class was following me around threatening to beat me up. She may have landed a few shoves and punches I don’t remember, all I remember is she had 2 boys acting as “bodyguards” with her who kept singing, “fight, fight, fight it’s the main event.” (was that a song from a popular movie at the time?).

The last time was also at Thomas Kelly school, but this time it was on the front lawn while I was waiting for my Dad to pick me up.  A girl I knew had pushed me down and had pinned my arms by my sides. She then proceeded to take her long fingernails and run track lines down both forearms until they bled. This one I remember had made my Dad really angry and he called her Mom and yelled at her on the phone.

It was after this that my parents signed both my brother and I up with a local Karate school. It was kinda lame, we went for maybe half a year until we got our yellow belts and then we dropped out. It might have been money, it might have been we just lost interest.

After that my brother and I got obsessed with weight training and martial arts. We bought magazines with our paper route money (we moved up and became paperboys with the Sacramento Bee) and we stapled half our room with pictures of body builders and the other half with Bruce Lee.  We had a barbell set in our room and we worked out all of the time to the two or three Heavy Metal records we owned.

But the lifting weights and the karate classless by that time were pointless, either I learned to keep my mouth shut or the bullies lost interest in me and my life took less and less physical blows.

Don’t get me wrong, I was still an outcast. I had lost all confidence in myself and I spent a lot of my time under the stairs behind the wood-shop class reading Harry Harrison novels. I thought “Dr. Who” was cool and I didn’t have a car.

And while I have a car now, my books are still dorky and I still think Dr. Who is cool – so in a lot of ways, I am still that same kid.

My confidence never really returned and even now in my forties, I sometimes fantasize about being in a confrontation and actually “winning” for a change.  I am never forty in my dreams though, I am still a little kid… somehow wishing to go back to those four or five moments and just instilling myself with some wit and some courage.

I guess the question isn’t “why” did those events take place, but did I deserve them?

Do kids really pick on other kids for no reason at all? Or was I somehow threatening, or mean in my own way? What drew girls to want to beat me up? Did I secretly like them and their way of rejecting me was to kick the crap out of me?

I’ll never know.

It’s funny how memories like these can follow you around. But maybe it’s not so much the “memories” that we remember, but the unsettledness of our lives that remains unanswered. Maybe moments that start and stop with finality fade away, but the open-endedness of life … things like death, breakups, and questions continue to circle our memories looking for a place to land.

To Corey and Jennifer and all the other bullies from the 916

Peace

photo credit: The Cleveland Kid

So it has been six months since my wife and I moved out of our house and almost ten months that I have been without a calling. I scan the various resources I have almost daily looking for a church to call home and to date I have applied to almost one hundred churches across the United States.

Recently, I ran across an article from USA Today on the Protestant Job Market and that added fuel to something that has been mulling around inside of me for a while.

Consider this: There is a pastor who lives in my area who happens to know my situation and he knows “a little bit” about me.  He, like me, recently stepped out in faith and began looking for a new calling and within months – landed a sweet job. This same guy has made the comment to my wife and a few others that my problem is that…I don’t “market myself well.”

That phrase has been ringing in my ears this past month.

“David doesn’t market himself well.”

So that makes me ask the question… how should I be marketing myself? This isn’t a hypothetical question and I don’t have some poignant life lesson to tag on to the back end of this, I am generally curious, is there something else I should be doing?

I am ordained with my denomination and my peers know I am out of work and they toss my name into “the hat” when Jobs in my denomination become available.

I am also registered with ABC.USA and my profile is available to be downloaded by any potential Baptist churches across the United States.

I visit all the local church staffing websites and my online resume can be downloaded from at least ten of those sites including secular sites like Simply Hired and Monster.

I use my Facebook profile, Twitter account as well as my dot.com to promote myself.

I have business cards.

It’s true I am not going to “meet and greets” like conventions or local pastor bars looking to make connections. I wanted to go to Catalyst West Coast this last time around, but could not afford to go.  And no, I don’t make friends with the powerful or popular pastors looking to get in on the “inside track” either.

I’m just sort of …. me.

I guess I was counting on God to find the right place for me and my family, and I wasn’t planning on forcing God’s hand in the process. I am not worried about an opportunity  ”passing me by,” because if it was meant to be – then it will happen.

Maybe this is a little bit of the predestinationalist in me coming out, but I hope that God has this all figured out and that I can relax a little.

Matthew 6:25-34

“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? …O you of little faith. So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

But I would really like to hear your opinion… what else should I be doing? How would you “market yourself” in this economy? Am I not worried enough?

Should I run off another 500 business cards? Should I get a second dot.com that points to this one? Should I be making short sermon vignettes on youtube? Should I make a spinning arrow sign and stand on street corners or buy an inflatable-air-dancing-tube-thing that stands out in front of my house?

Think of me frantically coming up with more ideas like these as your write your response.

photo credit: bfhoyt

Sometimes I will be at D land and I will see a guy and I will think to myself, “Hey, I have that same shirt… where is it?” and then I remember, “Oh yea… it’s in a box.”

Whenever my Son asks where his drum set is, we always tell him, “it’s in a box.”

Our whole life is in boxes right now.

When we moved in January, everything went into paid storage while a few remaining boxes went with us to my Mother in law’s house. Since then my wife and I have slept on an inflatable air mattress and my son has slept on the floor on a toddler mattress in the same room. The three of us each have a few boxes of clothes and possessions.  My son has a single box of toys and I have a single box of books. In fact, out of the 3 of us – my wife probably brought the least of her possessions with her.

We had packed for a three to four month stint, much like the castaways thought they would be on a three hour tour.

So during this time of transition, it has been interesting to see what we have needed, and what we have not – and also how easy it is to begin accumulating more stuff.

But I guess it’s weirder to think that we own “other” stuff, furniture a tv, a couch (more clothes) that we have not seen or used in half a year now. It makes me wonder… why do have all that stuff anyway? I mean sure, we have that stuff because currently we share my Mother in law’s possessions – she has that stuff and that’s how we get by now – but it’s interesting how life has made us all hoarders of “individual” possessions.

Nobody gathers down at the barber shop anymore to hear the town gossip, we all own our own televisions, so now we just watch TMZ.

We no longer go down to the Rutherford’s house to listen to the Mystery Hour on their radio, because now everyone has their own radio (even though now we all stream Hulu or Pandora).

I would argue that even meals with extended family is getting more and more of a lost practice (especially home cooked ones).

When do we naturally break into community in our week? When we go to work? The coffee shop? Church?

But how many of us work from home or own our own business? How inexpensive is it to brew delicious Starbucks coffee from home? And how simple is it to even download church services to our ipod?

You’re probably too young to remember the movie The Net with Sandra Bullock. It was a movie made in 1995 about a woman who lived on the internet, and only had “web chat” friends, subsequently her whole life was “deleted” and she quickly found out that nobody in “real life” knew who she was. Remember, this is back before “identity theft” and this was basically a “horror movie” about one author’s projected dangers of the internet.

I think the reality today is, of course you can’t have your whole life “deleted” by “the man” of “the feds,” but the irony is we delete our own lives by not living in community.

The irony is I miss all of my stuff that is stuck in a box somewhere, stuck in a warehouse, stuck far away. But the bigger box was the box I was always living in – the one that kept me in my own house, with my own television and my own books and my own barbecue.  This same box kept me from knowing the people who lived next door to me for years. This same box had me believing that I didn’t know any lost people because I worked for a church. Or the box that told me that I was a boring person anyway, so why would anyone want to get to know me.

In 2008 Jim Carrey made a movie called Yes Man, and I think the premise of this new movie would have solved Sandra Bullock’s identity theft problem. By saying “Yes” to each new opportunity, Jim’s character is forced out of his box and out into the world, where he has new experiences and meets new people.

Imagine that, meeting new people.

“We should be inviting more friends to church,” says the pastor.

“All my friends are here,” thinks the church.

Well, I guess there is nobody left to save.

Luke 10

The Lord appointed seventy-two disciples and sent them two by two ahead of him to every town and every place where he was about to go. Jesus told them, “The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field. Go!”

[LAST] [NEXT]

photo credit: Bob B. Brown

So way back when I first started my story, I told you that I applied to a bunch of places for the holidays but nobody responded.  Well a month ago in June, I got a call from someone who wanted to hire me – not a church,  but rather a kingdom of another sort…. a magic Kingdom.

I got a call from Disneyland.

What happened was, my wife and I were both annual passholders to D-land and we were walking through the park one day over in Tomorrowland (how ironic) and we were talking about employment, the job front and how we would make ends meet for the next few months. Our passes were going to expire shortly and soon we would not be able to enjoy a lot of “creature comforts” that we had always taken for granted in the past.

“I guess you could always get a job here,” my wife commented. “Then we could still get into the park and you’d be able to say that you worked here and fulfill a life long dream.”

It’s true, I had always wanted to work in the park, more specifically the Jungle Cruise. I don’t know what it is, perhaps it’s just the idea of being able to hold a microphone and crack wise to strangers, maybe it was the costume, or maybe I have always wanted to be a boat captain.. who knows?

Either way, back in April, when NOBODY else had called or contacted me, I got a call from the park to come in for an interview. I put on my best “business casual” outfit and got there fifteen minutes early.

My group first consisted of about 4 or 5 people, we watched an orientation video that listed some of the park’s history and what was expected of us.. things like…

• we will practice good hair care and hygiene
• we will come to work on time
• we will join a union

We were then asked to wait again in the lobby for a “one on one” interview and at that point I half expected some of the people to leave. I wondered if that video was D-land’s way of saying… “Hey, this is how it is, if you don’t like it, now is a good time to part company.” I thought about how different that was from the church today. When we try to attracted new people to our communities, it seems that the church makes the sacrifices and we make the changes.

You don’t like our music? We will try something hipper.

You don’t like our children’s program, we’ll throw more money at it.

You don’t like our pastor, we’ll hire someone younger, edgier, taller, funnier, whatever you want!

I think I would like to be part of a church that begins like D-land began with me. “This is how we are, and this is what we expect of you.” Because a church does have expectations doesn’t it? So why do we always dance around those topics instead of holding our people to a higher standard?

• We expect members to tithe
• We expect members to serve
• We expect members to evangelize
• We expect members to be involved in community

“This is what we expect of you as a member,” I would say.  ”A representative will be with you shortly.”

One of the weird things about being back out in the waiting room at D-land was watching random people walk in and ask for a job – they were not told to wait for several months (like I did) no, they were walked in with a smile and sat down right next to me.

People who had just walked in off the street in jeans and t-shirts were given a job interview that same day. Sitting there sweating in my pressed slacks and dress shoes I was a little put off. “What the?” I waited months for this job, I was called, I got dressed up, I made a special trip just to be here….

But again, the thing that gives “D” the right to do whatever they want, is that… well they can.

In Matthew 20, Jesus tells a similar story about an employer who hires workers all day long, and in the end the workers hired first and who have worked the longest, get the same days pay as those who were hired last.

“Hey, what gives?” shouts the disgruntled employees. “What gives you the right?”

Jesus explains, “Friend, haven’t I been fair to you? Didn’t you agree to work for a wage before you were hired? And don’t I have the right to do what I want with my own money? Take you pay and go home.”

If “D” needs to hire people, what do I care that I was waiting longer? Why am I concerned about whether or not my brother gets a job anyway? Don’t I really only care that I get one?

In the end I was ushered into a tiny office by a smiling (well groomed) cast member who asked me some run of the mill questions..

“Why do you want to work for D-land?”

“Describe a time when you gave good customer service.”

“Describe a time you had a conflict at work and how you resolved it.”

She then said she had a job opening running attractions in Fantasyland… again, my heart sank. The Jungle Cruise is in Adventureland. I wanted this new job to be just that… a new adventure. Besides Fantasyland was where all the kiddie rides were.

• Peter Pan
• Story Book
• Alice
• Snow White
• the Carosel

Was this going to be fun? At this point, I didn’t know. I told the smiling well groomed lady, “that would be great” and smiled back.

“Well let me be the first,” she extended her hand “to welcome you to the D-land resort.”

That was the beginning of how I began working for Disneyland.

I am excited to see how my role as a Pastor plays into this, I am praying God is guiding me towards something here, a person, a job, a role to play, I don’t know at this point.

A door opened (that sounds so cliché) and I walked through it.

[LAST] [NEXT]

I think the more you wait for something, the more you begin to doubt it’s ever going to show up.

It’s like waiting for your dad to pick you up after school. Did this ever happen to you? I used to get picked up from High School by the parent that also worked for a living. What’s the big deal you ask? Well, this means that after school your parent doesn’t come when YOU are out of school – they come after THEY are off from work.

So while every other kid is rushing to slam stuff in their locker, say goodbye’s and run out to board the bus, or get in their cars and zoom away – I took a leisurely stroll out to the front school lawn and sat in the same spot underneath the same tree. I could pull out some reading homework or a book and usually kill an hour or two until my Dad’s Toyota corolla would pull up over the hill.

It was a weird time of the day for me, no longer in school, but not quite home. I was free.. but at the same time, I wasn’t.

Skip ahead a few years to today. It’s been a few months now since I have lost my job and my wife and I have kind of passed the “moment” when we expected our Dad to pick us up (right here, “Dad” is a metaphor for “God” and “pick us up” is a metaphor for “get a job”). We had hoped to be in this “transition period” for about three months; and we’re almost done with our fourth. Sure we’ve enjoying the sunshine and the down time, but… still no sign of Dad.

It feels like we are between two worlds…

In Catholicism this is called limbo – it’s that realm of waiting – not quite in Heaven – not quite in Hell.

When we sold our house back in December, we did it with the idea that we would be open and ready for the Lord’s moving. We had no idea if we’d be called to Michigan or Hawaii or Mazatlan* and I guess we felt living in this “in between” would be a sort of staging area, but the longer we have been waiting, it’s beginning to feel like something more.

At first we were living out of suitcases and tying to live light, but the longer we have been in limbo the more we have begun to live like we used to. Life grows and we accumulate. We started off with limited possessions, but since we have been in limbo we’ve now acquired more than we’d actually be able to pack back out of here.

And the same goes for head knowledge. My brain doesn’t just shut off even though I am no longer in ministry, so I have still been reading books, studying, and processing ministry ideas,  but like everything else – its growing, but there is no place to go with it.

Life in limbo has no momentum.

Suitcases sit still.

Knowledge rests in the realm of theory.

And this is exactly how we use the word limbo in today’s vernacular; it’s this realm of in-action until something changes.  In limbo an outside force is usually required to ‘tip the scales” one way or the other just to “get the ball rolling” again (wow, that was a lot of idioms).

Just like it was waiting for my Dad after school, there was nothing that I could do; I was completely dependent on my Dad coming to my rescue.  And it’s not the same as waiting in a line, or waiting for your favorite show to start – at least with those you can see progress or you know exactly when your waiting will stop.

Limbo has no windows and no doors.

Even though you may be drawing closer to the end, today feels the same as yesterday.

The Israelites wandered in the desert for forty years, and even though they were constantly moving, breaking camp, eating mana, and making camp – they were not going anywhere. We assume they were walking in circles. They were waiting on God for progress and momentum, but God was waiting for something else…

He was waiting for doubt to die.

In those forty years, the original army grew old and died, and a new army was born. And I guess this is the take away for me right now; that as my family gets closer and closer to our “promised land,” even though I can’t see the end of this – I know that God can. He may be waiting for key people to be in place, he may be waiting for a new condition of our willingness to be used, or he simply may be waiting for some part of me to die and to be reborn.

Yea, I know tomorrow is going to feel a lot like today did. I will wake up and check the new job listings, drink a cup of coffee and walk to the post office. I will read a little, pray a little and continue to wait for momentum. And even though many of my posts may sound sad or hopeless, it’s really not that way at all.

Deep down I know that Dad is coming

One day tomorrow will be new.

* I have not applied to any jobs in Mazatlan, and I don’t even know where Mazatlan is.

[LAST] [NEXT]

I’ve never been one who “hears a voice from God.” I have always envied those people who tell stories of their amazing prayer life where the Lord spoke to them in a dream and they just picked up their family and moved to Tulsa. But my interaction with God has been a cross between “gut feelings” and following the river in front of me. I have always felt that if I stay close to God -then he will always lead me.

This leads me to my next story…

Sometime last year when we were back in our house, I was upstairs and in bed for the night and reading a book when my wife came in late with a smile on her face, “I think I found it” she exclaimed.

“Found what?”

“The church where you’re going to work.”

Now, let me freeze frame her smile and say something… this is what I am talking about… those “feelings” people get that they are so confident that they can tell someone else. It’s like when people say that they saw their future husband and they “just knew” and then leaned over to tell their girlfriends, “I’m going to marry that man.” The story is then told by the maid of honor at the wedding and everyone smiles and hits their glasses with spoons….

But what about the predictions that don’t come true? I am sure someone has leaned over to their friend, said they were they were going to marry the glowing stranger, … and then it didn’t happen. Nobody remembers those stories because they don’t come true. You never hear at a wedding, “You don’t know how many times Steve leaned over to me and said he was going to marry ‘some girl’ or another and it never happened.. not until Stacey.”

That would be a terrible story. It ends in Stacey crying in her wedding dress and Steve punching his best man in the shoulder.

Oh sorry, I left my wife frozen didn’t I?

I was surprised my wife was so confident and I was beginning to feel like I was hitting my head against a wall applying to jobs and then being rejected… so I got excited…

“What – where? Where did you find it?”

“I left the browser open for you downstairs,” she was folding laundry I think, “but it’s a little church in your home town and they look nice.”

Turns out it was a little church back in my home town (just like she said) and the next morning when I went through their church profile – they did look nice (just like she said); and my excitement grew. Could my wife be right? Could this be “the one?” It certainly would make a good story. So naturally you begin to do what you do in situations like this; you pray.

I was praying all of the time. Every day I took my son for a walk to either put him to sleep or take him to the park, I was praying… praying my guts out. I can’t explain it better than that, but do you remember when you were a kid? Whatever you did with all of your being was described as doing it with your “guts out.” When we ran to school we “ran our guts out.” That’s what it was like. It was all my energy and all my focus.

And then when I wasn’t praying my guts out; I was planning. I was literally day dreaming about the church and mapping out what my next steps would be.  Probably the only thing I didn’t do was go down to the Home Depot and grab paint swatches.  And the more each day passed, the more in depth my ideas became. I rehearsed what I would say to the search team, and I began thinking about my first sermon on candidate weekend. If there was a “zone,” I was in it.

Looking back I was probably a borderline “church stalker.”

I had relatives that lived near this little church and I sent them in on a reconnaissance mission one morning. They came back with a detailed report and gave me insight into the positives and negatives. I called the church secretary and asked when the search team met, so I could pray on those days. I contacted the denominational representative in the area and introduced myself, I even told him I’d be willing to drive the six hours just to meet him for lunch.

Months went by with no information.

I was going stir crazy, so my wife and I planned a trip to my hometown. It was a great idea; we could visit the family, my son could see his grandparents and my wife and I could scope out this little church for ourselves. I called the church secretary and let her know I was coming “just in case anyone from the search team wanted to meet me.”

Turns out they didn’t.

Nobody really knew we were coming, I met the church secretary and her family, but it was just a typical Sunday at a church we didn’t belong to. People politely shook our hands and smiled, but nobody really noticed us. We left that morning even more excited and more on fire for the little church,  but looking back, the signs had been there that the river wasn’t flowing that direction and I was fighting against the current.

Up until that point I had always allowed the Spirit to guide me in a natural fashion. I didn’t give too much thought to my direction and I had simply followed the current of the river. But it seems with this little church that I was “trying too hard.” I had turned into the annoying guy who follows the girl around saying, “can’t you feel this connection?” While she is running away smiling politely.

I was acting on an “idea” that I had fabricated and to be fair, my wife had just found a church that she thought I would be interested in and as I got more “into it” she did also. It wasn’t her job to listen to the Lord for me. I was supposed to be learning patience, but instead I was fighting the current and trying to forge my own path.

Well, the good news is, I didn’t get a rejection letter. A few more months had gone by and I called the church office again and asked how the process was going, the church secretary acted more nervous than usual and indicated to me that they had indeed “found their man” …and it wasn’t me. She said I should receive a “thanks for trying” letter soon, but I never did. The little church hadn’t been a sign or a detour or anything, it was just another church in the long list of churches. The only thing that made it special or stand out, was my own wishing.

And I could get mad and say, “Why did you do that to me God? Why did you get my hopes up?” But the truth is – I did it to myself. I can’t actually say that I was being moved by God during this time.

The Bible talks a lot about trusting God, “Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding” (Proverbs 3:5) It also says that “He who trusts in himself is a fool. . .” (Proverbs 28:26).  But that doesn’t seem to stop most of us from trying to blaze our own trail. There are so many accounts of men and women in the scriptures who were supposed to wait for a promise from the Lord, but instead took the initiative.

God promised Abraham and Sarah a son of their own bloodline.  But it was over 20 years before this promise was fulfilled exactly the way that God had said. In the meantime, it was hard for them to trust God and they often tried their own paths to make the promised son come true (Genesis 15-17).

The truth is, we’re not good at waiting.  We want what we want – and we want it now! It’s hard enough for me to wait for my order from Amazon even when I have a tracking number, so you can imagine how hard it is to wait for even bigger things like a career or a calling.

But this isn’t another chapter on patience or impatience. Rather it’s about discerning God’s will over our own. I can’t make my life happen any more than Abraham could “make a baby boy.” If Abraham and Sarah had just allowed the river to quietly move them down water, they would have arrived where God wanted them to. But instead they chose to fight the current and “make” God’s plan happen.

When we do that the only voice telling us to “act” is our own, so in the end the only one to blame is ourselves.

And if we don’t realize that – and take a really honest look back on our lives – we can end up feeling bitter towards God and resentful of his promises – when he didn’t actually do anything.

I also think that even when we create these side diversions, God doesn’t allow our energy to be wasted, nor does he allow the opportunity for learning to pass by. When we take the wrong stream or go through the wrong door, God still works through that and makes his will be done.

When Hagar and her son Ishmael are tossed out with the garbage, God stepped in and didn’t allow these two innocents to pay the price for Abraham and Sarah’s haste (Genesis 21). He even promises Hagar that he will make her son “into a great nation.” And that is ultimately the story of the entire bible – regardless of the human agent, God’s will is done.

So I am not worried that the opportunity will come and pass me by.

God isn’t going to kick the air and shout, “Oh you missed it!”

He knows how to move the river, he’s been doing it for thousands of years.

[LAST] [NEXT]

As of today (April 9, 2010) I have applied to 72 churches; mostly for senior pastor positions, a few “teaching pastor” jobs, some family pastor, assistant pastor and the random specialty pastor jobs (i.e. ‘Gen-X pastor’ or ‘Pastor of Rocking Out’). And if you have never gone through the process then pull up a seat and let me tell you what it’s like.

As a potential pastor (p.p.) or pastor in progress (p.i.p.) you should probably familiarize yourself with websites like churchstaffing.com and pastorfinder.com. Sites like this have free access, but to gain super-special-high access resources they want you to pay for a subscription.

I don’t.

I’m cheap.

Perhaps the reason why I am still unemployed is that I have not hunkered down and given them my forty bucks.

I have also taken the ultimate lazy man’s route in that I have made an account with Simply Hired and they just send me an email every morning with any new job openings with the key words I have submitted.

Another avenue for job searching is using your denomination to “pimp you out” to hiring churches. I am ordained with Transformation Ministries (previously ABC USA PSW) and they probably have around 100 churches. Obviously this isn’t a large enough pool to pick from so I am also on file with ABPS (No, not the American Board of Plastic Surgery) who has ties with over five thousand churches.  And then there are some other random denominations that have my name at the bottom of a dusty stack someplace. “…So I got that going for me which is nice.”

You can also find my profile on linkdin, not to mention the website you are reading which is my main venue for flattering self-promotion.  There are also some key friends and pastors who have my resume and have said that they would keep their “eyes open” for me.

So that’s my highly technical super-network – Here is the process…

I wake up in my pjs and grab a cup of coffee and sit down at my dusty laptop. (it’s not dusty because it’s old, it’s dusty because I don’t have one of those little screen wipes and I just let the filth accumulate). I open my email and scroll through the job openings sent to me that morning and my wife usually hears me shout things across the house like…

“Honey where is Converse County Wyoming?”

or

“Can we live on 20,000 a year?”

or

“Do you want to be episcopalian?”

Her usual response from the kitchen is “No” or “I have to live near a Target!” and I keep looking.

So when I come across a job that has a good salary, a non-snake handling denomination and a job description close to what I am looking for I send my über packet to them via email. (this usually consists of a resume, statement of faith and a profile ‘about me’).

The next thing that typically happens is…. nothing.

I am not exaggerating. The standard response is no response.

Most of the time a church won’t even acknowledge that they received your packet, nor will they contact you when you are no longer being considered. This is probably due to the high quantity of applications that they receive. I know that some of the jobs I have applied to have received over two thousand applicants in a single week; so then to ask lay people to sit down and write back to all of them is just too much.

I am sure the feeling I get sending my resume out into the cyber void is similar to Jochebed sending baby Moses down the river. I sit on the shore and watch my life sail quietly away…

The good news is a couple of times a week you will get an emailed response from a church! The bad news is, the contents of that letter will sound something like this:

Dear Mr. Loser

Your Pastoral Candidate Summary highlighted unique experiences that have undoubtedly prepared you for continued ministry within Christ’s Church.  However, your qualifications at the present time do not appear to be the best match for the needs of this current ministry opportunity.

We appreciate your interest in our awesome Church and your willingness to explore serving here.  We continue to trust our Lord to fulfill His plans for you and for us!

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. Jeremiah 29:11

Yours in crushing hope,

[Church name withheld]

A couple of those can feel pretty depressing. Rejection causes you to wonder about your marketability and whether you’re shooting too high. “Maybe I should start with a janitorial position and work my way up?” Most churches don’t consider me because of my lack of experience. I mean, I assume that’s the reason, nobody ever tells you WHY they don’t consider you – again – it’s probably too difficult to hand treat each applicant.

So far I have collected about twenty five of these “Dear Mr. Loser” rejection letters. No, not “collected” in the sense that I print them out and tie them with ribbon and put them in my memories box, but I have been keeping track of which churches have gotten back to me.

And “Yes” I have heard the inspirational hallmark card example of President Lincoln who was defeated for the Illinois General Assembly, U.S. Congress and U.S. Senate, as well as for his party’s vice presidential nomination before he finally became the 16th president of the United States. But he had something going for him…

He was tall.

Tall people get hired more than short people, I read it in some study somewhere. I also saw that there was a University of Florida study that reported that being tall even means a bigger paycheck! According to the study each additional inch in height gains you an extra $789 a year. So a person who is six feet tall,” said the study, “will earn about $5,525 more a year than a person who is 5 foot 5.” (exactly how tall I am)

So for obvious reasons my resume doesn’t include my height.

That was a weird tangent… back to rejection.

The obvious “take away” from all of this is, even Jesus who was the savior of the world was rejected by Israel…

Psalm 118:22
The stone the builders rejected has become the capstone…

and by God…

Matthew 27:46
About the ninth hour Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?”—which means, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” [ Psalm 22:1]

In fact, Jesus was set up.

There are like a bazillion hints in the Old Testament that the Messiah would be rejected – his course was doomed from the very beginning and yet he came anyway. The difference being that Jesus was counting on it.  Without the rejection and scorn that he received, there would have been no cross – and no cross means no justification and no justification means no gospel. Jesus came to earth for the mission impossible purpose of being rejected.

And if that wasn’t bad enough… he is still being rejected today.

It seems almost minute by minute new arguments and new voices are adding their “rejection letters” to the world wide web as to why Jesus wasn’t real, or wasn’t God or wasn’t in some other way authentic. And if that isn’t bad enough Jesus has officially been denied access to the Holy land.

You didn’t hear about that?

Oh yea, according to tradition it is  said that when the Messiah comes again and the dead arise, they will all enter through the eastern gate to win eternal life.  In Arabic, the gate is called Bab el Rahmeh, or “the Gate of Eternal Life.”  The most common name for it today is the “Golden Gate” which seems to retain a memory of the “Gate Beautiful” where Peter cured a lame man, as read in Acts 3.  The Greek word oraia means “beautiful” and is a similar sounding word in Latin, “aurea,” which means golden, thus the supposed name jump from “beautiful” to “golden.”

So, to reject the Messiah’s entry into the city, the Arabs have sealed the gate several centuries ago. Read this news article I found:

“The Arabs held this ground until 1099 AD. It was during this time of the Arabs occupation when with great malice of forethought, the Eastern Gate was sealed up. The reason being that the Arabs were trying to prevent the arrival of the Jewish Messiah into Jerusalem. They were aware of the biblical prophecy that foretold that the Messiah would enter Jerusalem through the Golden Gate, and having joined the Jews in their rejection of Jesus wanted to thwart the fulfillment.”

In addition, over the many years Arabs have contemptuously buried their dead in front of the Eastern Gate. Their reasoning is built on a hapless misunderstanding of the Levitical law. They believe that the Messiah will be restrained from entering Jerusalem by this route because coming in contact with the remains of the dead will defile him as a priest and hence keep him “locked out.”

For which I have two words for the Arabs: “As if”

My Savior is the God who walks through doors.

And in the final days, ignorance and jealousy will not barricade Jesus from his sheep.

Wealth and power will not push him aside.

And his days of being rejected will be over.

I on the other hand, have a few more ahead of me I’m sure. I may not be Abraham Lincoln, but I have my own skill set and I know that God is preparing a calling that will someday best fit me. I guess it’s just the question of “how do I keep picking myself up and dusting myself off” after each and every hit?

And I know we all face our own various rejections each and every day; my situation is not unique just because I am out of work. We all face rejection from peers, from the mirror, from supervisors, parents and those we love. Rejection is paralyzing, crushing and emotionally damaging. Rejection pushes some towards abuse, addiction, depression and even suicide.

Rejection is dark

Rejection is pain

Take confidence that the God of all things knows where you live. He sees your situation and your struggles and he has shared them and he has conquered them. And I don’t know, maybe you are someone who feels they have rejected Christ as well. Maybe you think you have built your own barricade to thwart Christ’s return into your own life.

Hear this.

There is nothing you can do, or will ever do, than can keep Christ out.

Simply make the choice to turn rejection into acceptance and begin to walk with him.

[LAST] [NEXT]

If you read my post “This is how 2010 began” you’d know I am currently out of work. When people ask what I do for a living either I say I am an “unemployed pastor” or I say I am “jobless and homeless” (both true). These past few months I have been living with my Mother-In-Law and it has actually been very comfortable. And I think it’s only natural that with any “break” in your life, you come up with some lofty expectations about how you will spend your “meantime.”

“Oh, I am totally going to use this time away from work to ______________” fill in the blank.

a) get organized

b) lose weight

c) read the bible more

d) read tons of books

e) WRITE a book!

f) spend more time with my children

All very high and noble ideals.

Yea… none of that actually happened.

Because before too long I quickly realized what the reality is – my real life is my “real life.” And if I happen to be a lazy American that likes to watch TV when I had a job – then I am a lazy American who likes to watch TV when I don’t have a job.

So then it almost feels as if my “failure level” doubles. First I am a failure because I can’t get a job – and then I am a double failure because I can’t make my spare time more productive. Then I start to wonder why I even have spare time – shouldn’t I be spending every waking moment trying to find a job to provide for my family? So then this whole whirlpool of self-doubt just dog piles on me and pushes me further and further down into the spot I am wearing on the couch.

Fun times.

But like I said, this whole time in the “meantime” has been pretty cushy. The hard truth is my family and I are homeless and jobless, but the reality is my Mother-in-Law’s home has become our home and my job has become Father, writer and job looker for-er…. And even though I have not filled every waking moment with some sort of team building exercise, it still has meaning and life.

So let me offer a little more personal history – way back in 2009 when we were still in our home, my wife started thinking about the story of Noah. She wanted to get an idea of how long Noah and his family were actually “homeless” as they waited for the storm to pass (wives are very intuitive as it turns out). Her study lead her to find that they were on the waves and in the rain for about 370 days; well over a year! And this isn’t even counting the 100 years it took him to build the ark! Can you imagine?

How long was this family unit in a state of displacement?

How long were they asking, “Where is this all going?”

And while you’re building a boat and while you’re tossing about on violent waves – what do you do in the meantime? I guess you learn to develop a whole lotta patience.

So while my wife was thinking about Noah in a boat with fuzzy animals, my fear factor is kicking in and I am thinking about Job. Job who has no houses, no money, and no family. Job who was naked on a big rock scratching his sores with a little rock.

And I don’t know if we have Job’s whole timeline, but Job 7:3 says, “So I have been allotted months of futility, and wearisome nights have been appointed to me.”

The Jewish encyclopedia says Job’ suffering was at least a year and other rabbinical sources say seven. Either way, it wasn’t a hop-skip-and-a-jump back to Tuxedos and Neosporin. Through his trials and his darkness, Job learned patience.

James reiterates that in his letter:

James 1:11

We consider blessed those who have persevered. You have heard of Job’s perseverance and have seen what the Lord finally brought about. The Lord is full of compassion and mercy.

So in this “meantime” I am content to learn patience as well; and at first it feels like a total cop-out answer. It sounds like the generic response to “how are you doing?” Right? Patience is like the default answer to any trial or circumstance.

“Oh, the Lord is teaching me patience right now.”

Who hasn’t said that at one time or another?

But the reality is I think the world makes us all busier and less dependant. So why shouldn’t I go through a time where I learn to rely on the Lord? In fact, if I were busy doing all of the “stuff” to be productive and “busy” – I don’t know that I would be moving slow enough to notice God’s provision and his timing. I’d be filling every waking hour and before too long I’d have a job again and then I’d be thinking to myself, “where did the time go?”

But sitting here… in the meantime…. I can really feel the time crawl by.

And let me just add that the passing hours are in fact “mean time.” Right? I mean who of us has ever thought that time was considerate? “The years have not been kind,” says one to another. “Time has not been on my side.”

Job probably felt the same way.

And again I have to remind myself that the reality is I am not on a wet wooden boat shoveling stacks of zebra poop out into the ocean. Nor am I a broken bald man with a nagging wife and horrible friends.

Actually quite the opposite; I spend my days writing, and playing with my son. My wife and my friends have been my biggest supporters and I guess it only goes to show that even when everyone is in your corner and life really isn’t that bad, you can still drum up doubt and negativity.

The mean time hasn’t been that mean.

And who knows how long I will be on this boat, or sitting in this dirt, but I highly doubt it will be seven years (or a hundred). And if through it all I learn to lean on the Lord more, or learn that the Lord is full of compassion and mercy, or learn reliance or patience or endurance… great.

Isn’t that why I am the disciple?

To sit at the master’s feet and to learn?

That image totally brings to mind the story of Mary and Martha. This last time I was reading it, I found myself wondering if Mary was the younger of the two sisters. Luke 10 says the house belonged to Martha and since she is the “busy body” providing the guests with hospitality, that leads me to believe she was the eldest. So in typical biblical story telling, it’s the younger of the two who “gets it.” Mary receives the blessing of Jesus’ teaching. Martha worries (like me) that the time is being wasted and she calls for her sister to help her, but Jesus replies back. “only one thing is needed and Mary has chosen what is better.”

Jesus fills up the meantime.

And no matter what I am missing out on accomplishing… Jesus is better.

[LAST] [NEXT]

So let me catch some people up …. For the past four years my wife and I have worked side by side at the same church. For over 10 years my wife has been the youth pastor and I late started my seminary internship there and slowly worked my way up to Assistant Pastor. We loved working together, having the opportunities to share ideas, and overlapping our ministry duties.  Being a creative team has been one of the greatest joys of our lives.

We had been married at that church, we had both been ordained there, and we had only a year ago had our first child dedicated there. We loved that church.

And then, way back in September of 2009 (which now seems so long ago), I was let go as the Assistant Pastor.  It was an amiable separation and I still believe it was the best thing for the growth of that community. I was told my position was being removed and that at the time, my church could no longer afford a full time Assistant Pastor. And they told me that they would not be hiring any assistants in the near future.

2009 had been a difficult year for our church. It was our first year with an interim senior pastor. We were trying to rally the body together. Loose ends were being drawn shut and to top it off we were desperately trying to draw up a more modern constitution. By September, the search team had found a fantastic candidate and as they headed in this bright new direction, my church and I had to part ways.

In the months that followed, I was sure I could land some sort of menial retail job. You know, “grunt work” just to pass the days and earn a paycheck.  I had skills, I had a degree, I was sure I was going to be way over qualified for anything that I was going to pursue. It’s been my experience that someone is always hiring, you just have to suck it up and apply yourself.

So before long I had applied to all of the old standards…

□        Target (2 different locations)

□        Barnes and Noble (3 different locations)

□        USPS

□        UPS

□        Costco

□        Toys R Us

□        Best Buy

□        Henry’s Grocery Store

□        Citrus College (as a janitor)

□        and Disneyland

But as Christmas was drawing closer; nobody hired me…. and nobody called.

I had called a friend of mine who was a manager at a local market and asked if he was hiring through the winter and he explained that because of the economy, he didn’t know any local retailers that were hiring this season. I hadn’t expected that answer.  People in Southern California don’t usually hear the word “freeze” in the middle of winter.

So there I stood, on my balcony, staring out into the street with the first feelings of fear beginning to sweep over me.

…and doubt

…and inadequacy

With only one salary coming in, my wife and I decided to unload our house as fast as we could. Our goal was to get out of debt and to begin living on less. By selling our house, we were hoping to at least break even, but most indicators told us we would be upside down because of the recent market. In the weeks that followed we had a steady stream of lookers with only a few offers. But miraculously by the end of December we were able to sell our house – and to our joy – it appraised for more than we were initially asking.

Around this same time my wife began to feel the need to be with me and support me. Our church had a new pastor and a new direction and it just didn’t feel the same with so many changes. Don’t get me wrong – this was the best thing for the church – we supported all of the decisions and we backed the new pastor 100%, but it was no longer the best thing for us. So, during the greatest economic downturn of my lifetime, my wife left her position as Youth Pastor to join me in solidarity and prayer for what might lie ahead of us both.

So here we were; a young married couple with a two year old boy… both unemployed and homeless.

Right before our house had sold, a huge blessing allowed us to move all of our possessions into storage. We told ourselves that we were going to be “on vacation” for a while, so we packed accordingly and we were invited to live with my wife’s mother who had a spare room.  And we expected that the weeks to come would be spent on the phone with potential search teams and extensive traveling as we considered possible churches and a new future.

Seven months later – we are still without a home and still without a calling; and our old church has hired not just one, but two assistant pastors. And by the way, “No” it turns out pastors don’t qualify for unemployment. In fact anyone who works for a non-profit doesn’t qualify, even if you have paid into it in the past.

Just so you have a time line, the same week that we moved was the week of the Haiti earthquake. So while the whole world was talking about displacement, being uprooted and chaos… to us our world looked exactly the same way.

We have spent the last three months sleeping on an air mattress and sitting on a sofa and waiting… and no, not always patiently, not always trusting, not always confident something was just around the corner. Believe me I wish I could tell you that I have been a pillar of strength. Traditionally the father has always been the chopper of trees and the killer of wild beasts, he made his money by the sweat on his brow and the till of the land, but I was spending my weeks and months in my pajamas emailing churches across the United States. Somehow what I called “work” didn’t feel as rewarding. And as each friend has said, “I know God has a plan for you.” (with that Jeremiah 29:11 smile) I have secretly wondered if God’s plan was vastly different than the one I had.

I have always wanted to be a good husband and a good father above and before anything else. And lately that’s not how I have been feeling; instead of seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, I only see more tunnel and more uncertainty. Yes, I know God has a plan for me, he has plans for us all. But let’s not forget Israel wandered for 40 years, Jonah spent 3 days in the stomach of a whale, A nation was burned and taken from their homes to Babylon and for three hundred years the word of God was silent while everyone waited for a savior.

I guess what I am saying is, I never wanted to learn “the plan,” because the plan doesn’t matter. I don’t need all the answers. Doubt happens, questions arrive and from time to time we all worry even if we’re not supposed to – that’s just life.

But what I want to learn through this is patience – Patience to wait out the storm, the darkness, the wandering and the silence. The bible is full of lessons in patience. Even good ol Jeremiah 29:11 comes after verse 10 which says, This is what the LORD says: “When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will come to you and fulfill my gracious promise to bring you back to this place.”

In other words, “Yea there is a terrific plan for you…. It’s just not for a while… can you hang tight and be obedient in the mean time?” I guess that paraphrase is my “life verse” right now.

“Hang tight and be obedient in the mean time.”

This is how 2010 began.

[NEXT]

What gallup leadership says about my leadership style:

Executing: Leaders with dominant strength in the Executing domain know how to make things happen. When you need someone to implement a solution, these are the people who will work tirelessly to get it done. Leaders with a strength to execute have the ability to “catch” an idea and make it a reality.

I – Introversion preferred to Extraversion: INFJs tend to be quiet and reserved. They generally prefer interacting with a few close friends rather than a wide circle of acquaintances, and they expend energy in social situations (whereas extraverts gain energy). [please read my response to this here]

N – iNtuition preferred to Sensing: INFJs tend to be more abstract than concrete. They focus their attention on the big picture rather than the details, and on future possibilities rather than immediate realities.

F – Feeling preferred to Thinking: INFJs tend to value personal considerations above objective criteria. When making decisions, they often give more weight to social implications than to logic.

J – Judgment preferred to Perception: INFJs tend to plan their activities and make decisions early. They derive a sense of control through predictability.

INFJs are conscientious and value-driven. They seek meaning in relationships, ideas, and events, with an eye toward better understanding themselves and others. Using their intuitive skills, they develop a clear vision, which they then execute decisively to better the lives of others. Like their INTJ counterparts, INFJs regard problems as opportunities to design and implement creative solutions.

INFJs are quiet, private individuals who prefer to exercise their influence behind the scenes. Although very independent, INFJs are intensely interested in the well-being of others. INFJs prefer one-on-one relationships to large groups. Sensitive and complex, they are adept at understanding complicated issues and driven to resolve differences in a cooperative and creative manner.

INFJs have a rich, vivid inner life, which they may be reluctant to share with those around them. Nevertheless, they are congenial in their interactions, and perceptive of the emotions of others. Generally well-liked by their peers, they may often be considered close friends and confidants by most other types. However, they are guarded in expressing their own feelings, especially to new people, and so tend to establish close relationships slowly. INFJs tend to be easily hurt, though they may not reveal this except to their closest companions. INFJs may “silently withdraw as a way of setting limits,” rather than expressing their wounded feelings—a behavior that may leave others confused and upset.

INFJs tend to be sensitive, quiet leaders with a great depth of personality. They are intricately and deeply woven, mysterious, and highly complex, sometimes puzzling even to themselves. They have an orderly view toward the world, but are internally arranged in a complex way that only they could understand. Abstract in communicating, they live in a world of hidden meanings and possibilities. With a natural affinity for art, INFJs tend to be creative and easily inspired. Yet they may also do well in the sciences, aided by their intuition.

Everyone assumes because my Myers-Briggs personality type is INFJ. That must mean I am a shy, quiet, withdrawn type. Believe me, I have wondered if I should even include it on my resume in fear that people would read it and assume that I was a recluse. Even more so since only 1% of people score as INFJ.

But the flip is that for those who know me, they don’t think I am “introverted” at all. I certainly don’t preach introverted. Well, that’s because the “I” or “E” has little to do with how you are in public and more to do with “what recharges you.” Sure, I can be socially awkward, but that has nothing to do with being introverted. Being introverted is just where I find myself when my energy is low and I need to recharge.

Pastor Mark Batterson says it best, “So I’m an extrovert by personality, but I’m an introvert by profession. I’m a pastor who is around people all the time so I’ve turned into more of an introvert out of necessity. I need my [private time]. That’s how I recharge my batteries. If I was working in a cubicle, I’d probably be the exact opposite.”

And you know what, I am pretty sure this is how Jesus recharged his batteries as well. We see Jesus doing very “street preacher” like things, talking to strangers, touching dead people, spitting on people, flipping tables and what not, but when he needed to re-charge, he knew how to “plug in” with God.

Mark 1:35

Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed.