It is hard for me to wrap my mind around this concept, but the calendar keeps telling me that it is February already, and almost two months has passed since my last posting on this blog. How could this have happened? For me, I guess, it points to the passage of time more than anything else, and in the words of some tin-pot timeless philosopher, "Time and the tides wait for no man..."
It has been a hectic (if not harrowing) dowhill rush from the morning I came home from my (now) annual retreat at the Holy Cross Monastery in New York, thru the Christmas rush, past the New Year's celebration, and plunged head-first into 2012. The first week of the New Year was filled with three funerals, a boatload of planning for our (then) upcoming Annual Business Meeting of the First Congregational Church, as well as a host of other things to contend with.
It is no mystery, then, that on the second Sunday of January I experienced an emotional crisis. Perhaps that morning I should have called my Associate Pastor to step in for me that morning, and either go somewhere else to worship, or just stay at home and watch a movie. The events of that fateful morning started off with a ludicrous argument, and then leaving my home in a whirlwind of anger and despondency... From the moment I stepped into the pulpit that morning, I knew that this was going to be a Sunday service which was going to be a life-changer...
At the beginning of the "Prayers of the People" portion of the service, I asked (as is my custom), "What may we pray together about?" My wife was the first person to raise her hand, and she startled me by saying "I think we should start by praying for you." I sank into the second pew on the gospel side of the sanctuary, and she stood in the pulpit and shared from the heart, that the life of a pastor is not an easy one, that it is filled with everything from joy and laughter, to despair and tears... and everything in between. After she stepped away from the pulpit, she took me by the hand, and gave me a big hug. Tears were flowing from both of us, and our chief deacon, Al, and my Associate Pastor, Randy, gathered with us, and led the congregation in praying for us. After what seemed like an eternity of being prayed over, I managed somehow, by God's grace alone, to get through the rest of the service.
After the service was over, Monica and I gathered with Al, Rev. Randy, Karen (his wife), and Cindy (our Executive Board chair), in my office, and we prayed together some more. I shared with them, from the heart, that I felt empty. We then opened the Bible to the 23rd Psalm, and focused on the words "He maketh me to lie down in green pastures beside the quiet waters... He restoreth my soul."
The lesson for that day, and for all of our days, from the 23rd Psalm, is that it is a good thing to be about the work that God has for us... but it is also a good thing to take a step back and rest. It is a good thing to stop what you are doing... look at the beauty that is around you... and listen to the Word of God. It is a good thing for people to take a sabbatical... or go on a retreat... or take a day (or two) to plug into the Joy of the Lord...
Next time you pass by my house... Do not be alarmed if you see my car parked in the driveway... Stop in, and share a cup of coffee! The coffee pot is always on, and you are always welcome! The Parsonage of the First Congregational Church is not only where I and my family live, it is also my base of operations... it is where I work... where I study... and where I hang my hat at the end of the day... that is, when I am not out in the community visiting with you... or sharing Christ's love and grace with people around me in the marketplace... or at the Hospital... or at the Assisted Living Facilities throughout this area.
Know that you, too, are loved and greatly appreciated... and I consider it an honor to serve you as your friend, as your pastor...
I Bid You Peace...
Dr. Ken+