(Last years Third Day Concert in Del Mar) Steve has his Coachella koo koo festival and a whole lot of youth groups this weekend from all over California will have Spirit West Coast Del Mar. Mind you there a couple of the bands that are just way to loud for me and I can’t understand the lyrics in my old age. The idea of a mosh pit scares the poop out of me and I’d be happy hanging watching Jars of Clay and Third Day all day long. But for some reason God moves and groves in the pit of mosh. Anyways, a bunch of us from the Antelope Valley and Littlerock will be cruising down to Del Mar for a weekend get away to worship God and to build some relationships with some really cool youth. Say a pray for us and especially for some of mi familia as they will be in another part of the country hanging with relatives.
In about eleven days I’ll have been the pastor of this awesome church for one year. So much has happened in a year. I’ve preached a bunch of sermons. I’ve done a couple of weddings, a few baptisms, a couple of funerals, and I’m learning how to build a new church building with some awesome leaders. What am I learning in my first year as a solo pastor?
I’m learning to listen. The church needs someone to listen for those God moments. Those little reminders that God is at work and that its not about us as the people of God or me as a pastor. I’m also learning to listen to those who truly are led by God. One of my jobs is to empower the people of God to be the ministers. Finding people with a heart for ministry and for bringing hope to those people who need hope. Finally, I’m learning to listen to those who really need someone to just stop and listen. I want to be the kind of pastor who doesn’t mind not trying to have all the answers as opposed to the pastor who always tries to be “super fix it pastor to the rescue” which is easy to do as a pastor.
I’m learning to breathe. Breathing is important when you’re in ministry. No matter how big or small your church is that you pastor. Others need to see you breathe. Its a sign of ones trust in God to be at the center of all things. Its our opportunity as pastors to give God thanks for everything that happens in the life of the church even if its not the way we want it to be.
I’m learning to rest. I remember the pastor who charged me at my installation. Resting and taking care of myself, my mind, and my body have not been top of the list of things to do this past year. I’ve even had some warning shots fired at my head reminding me to stop and rest in God’s restoring power. Learning mostly to spend time resting in Christ and his love for me as his own. In spending time with God being one who prays often as a way of finding rest in God. I still enjoy what Nouwen says, “what would it look like if someone called the church office and asked for the pastor and the response of the secretary was sorry the pastor is out praying.”
I’m learning to enjoy my family. I had a pastor friend tell me not to do the same thing he did in sacrificing his family over the church in his first couple of years as a solo pastor. When the six year old wants me to follow his “neatly” drawn map in finding a secret treasure in the house, I sure as better get my “button” off my chair and go play with that little guy. I’m also learning that as I sit here and write this post that the kids aren’t getting any younger and if I’m hiding behind a computer or sitting in a meeting that I’m really not needed at I will miss this ride called parenting and enjoying our kids. Finally, enjoying the blessing of being married to a woman that I love more than anything and that continues to encourage me and love me no matter what. Knowing that again she is someone that I am not willing to lose because of my need to be “super pastor dude.”
Over this next week I will do some more reflecting on lessons learned and that I’m still learning as a first year pastor.
Seventeen years ago something amazing took place in the universe. God brought two people, opposites in so many ways, with something special in mind. Seventeen years this Saturday my wife Debbie and I give thanks to God for his love and grace in our lives. I remember the day I picked up the wedding rings. I wore mine all the way home. I know there were loved ones who wondered if it could or even would work? Lots of hope, prayer, and a who lot of trust in the one who promises that his plans are for a hope and a future. (Jeremiah29:11)
Three awesome children later, a mortgage, a couple of cats, a church to pastor, a teaching position, and a fish, we are still in the thick of things by God’s grace. We have experienced joy and struggle together and because of faithful friends who have loved us and role models who we have watched from afar in the church universal God has been faithful.
In nine months we get to usher some kids off to that next level in life called Jr. High and High School. With glee we get to overwhelm a six year old with oodles of love with hopes that he stays six just long enough before he too enters that world of adolescence and before we enter therapy asking, “what just happened here?”
Mrs. Wahe you rock my world and I am honored and blessed that you are my wife, my beautiful bride, and my friend. You are a gift from God and with joy I look forward to riding this wave of grace with you as we enjoy God’s blessings and help raise some pretty “Wahe” cool kiddoes.
What does grace look like when it grows up? It looks like a window you wash in your house and immediately after its cleaned for some reason the fingerprints of those you love reappear within minutes. What does someone look like when God does his work of grace in a persons life? It’s like the window covered with fingerprints instead the fingerprints belong to the maker of the universe.
Every person in my life was some kind of instrument of grace growing up in the church. I’m a follower of Jesus because of the people in my life who gave me grace. I’m a husband and deeply in love with my wife because of how I witnessed those I watched from afar in the way they loved their own wives. I’m a father because of the grace I watched shown to those who fathered their own children.
Covered in grace I am. Giver of grace God is and I now because of those who loved me like Jesus loved me; I now get to give the grace of God away to those I meet and greet in all that I say and do as a follower of Jesus, husband, father, and pastor.
When grace grows up it’s kind of cool. I’d like to think that if it weren’t for grace I’d be in a whole different place in my life. If it weren’t for some work in therapy and God’s healing grace I can only imagine what life would be like right now at the ripe old age of 39. I am the other side of grace. What grace looks like when simmered under low heat for 39 years. (Okay sounds wierd, but in my head it makes sense)
We’ve been down into Hollywood on a couple of occasions of recent and everytime we drive through the city the sights, sounds, and the smells of the city I grew up in as a kid appear out of no where. Let me illustrate. We as a family recently attended a Dodger game a few weeks ago. Everytime we attend a memory of a game I attended with my dad as a kid always seems to appear. I remember it like yesterday. Dad filled to the rim with his favorite baseball drink, began raising his voice. We were with the YMCA on a field trip on this particular day to the Dodger game and those around us started to not only smell, but hear “father” and his loud voice dominate the stands. The next scene is dad being taken away by stadium police until the game was over. Although I don’t remember much of what happened after that game, I still remember sitting in the upper level seating watching the Astros and Dodgers play and everytime we go to a game that’s the first memory I think of from when I was a kid in growing up in the city and feeling like a heel over “father” and his lack of appreciation for his gifts of grace of kids in his life.
The kind of grace I continue to experience in my life is the kind of grace that heals the soul. The kind of grace that nudges you along in life and keeps your eyes focused on the one who is grace. If it weren’t for grace in my life I’d not be married to an awesome woman, blessed with wonderful kids, and overwhelmed with God’s blessing of being a pastor, called to give grace back. If it weren’t for grace in my life I’d not have the shelter and food that my parents once couldn’t provide for us as kids. The kind of grace that continues to be and has always been faithful in provision for my family today.
The question I ask myself today is this; “what happens when grace grows up?”
When Jesus sends us out into the world, he sends us to places that either bring us joy or places where we will be challenged to grow in our faith. After finishing a week of vacation Bible school, I can’t help but hear the words of Jesus, “as the father sends me, I also send you…”
Ministry is a whole lot of sending sometimes. Every where you go and everyone you meet is an opportunity for giving and living like Jesus. I have to say that I was on the receiving end of grace this week as we concluded a week of VBS. I love watching kids move from that initial first day of, “what have I gotten myself in to,” to singing goofy VBS church songs, which yours truly always enjoys doing. (I will be singing “whose side are you leaning on” in my sleep for about a week in my dreams) I especially enjoyed our celebration this evening when the kids whose parents had showed up for an end of week BBQ wanted to sing the songs for their parents. It was awesome and refreshing. I especially enjoyed watching the adults give of their lives in a way where one adult made a comment to another, “now what am I going to do now that VBS is over?”
I have no doubt they experienced what I experienced in receiving grace from a bunch of kids who were challenged at the beginning of the week to do just one thing…just have fun. The joy in being sent by God is knowing that even when we are sent to places that either bring us joy or challenge us that God has a way of renewing our hearts for for his purpose. Even when and if we’re feeling spent after a week of goofy VBS church songs, bible themed snacks, and loud ear piercing sounds and smells of kids just trying to enjoy the gift of being kids.
These last couple of months I’ve been in circles where the word “missional” continues to be a “buzz” word amongst folks. I think its awesome. This last week I sat with a bunch of pastors who were asked to think about what Jesus would say about the cities we live in and in our context as pastors. What does this mean to me? It means for me as a pastor that I fall down in the middle of grace in every aspect of my ministry. It means falling down on the side of those who hurt and who ache over the things of this world that don’t seem right. It means weeping for the parent who hopes they’ve given their child what they need in order to survive this world. Falling down in the middle of grace means that we hurt for the lives lost last week and for the parents who grieve. When it comes to being a missional pastor it means helping others to come to grips with the call to fall down in the middle of grace. It means helping others to catch a glimpse of the mission of God, to becoming people sent out into the world, to love as Jesus loved, even when things don’t seem to jive.
