trouble

I think I've figured out something about myself. I've been on a personal, secret mission to numb out since I was four years old. But God has had different plans for me. I have never been one to hit trouble head on. Yet, I feel as though I have been in trouble my whole life-trying to slip away, get away from the things God has allowed into my life. I hate trouble. I love the peace and serenity I feel when I'm out in my canoe fishing, or swishing effortlessly down a steep, snowy slope, or pushing myself over hill and dell on my bicycle. That's the kind of trouble I can handle. I know what the water is going to do, how the snow is going to treat the wood and steel strapped to my feet, that once I pedal to the summit I get to enjoy coasting down the other side exhilarated by the speed. I can cope with these things.

This Calling is a different animal. I can bend the words like strings on my guitar, making the audience feel what God has shown me. I can break that Divine Bread in a way that others can take small bites, savoring them, and bring them to a deeper understanding of what God has revealed to us by it.

But, meeting these expectations of man's institutions, putting on heirs, trying to project an image of purity and wholeness, I do not have the energy nor patience for. I understand that people need to feel the trust that a life of integrity establishes as these messages are delivered. But, I am just a dude trying to deal with life and death and making a living, caring for my family, holding on to these nagging dreams, just like the next guy. It's all so much trouble! And I hate trouble. Among the brotherhood of ministers there is politics and favoristism. The "Good ol' Boy Network" gives undue favor to some, while it alienates or punishes others, some who have more integrity than their authoritarian counterparts can comprehend!

Underneath all this aggravation flows a current of desire to please my Maker in the way He made me to. As much trouble as we are, I love people. And I love to help them draw closer to the One Who made them for His pleasure. So I must struggle on, wrestling with this thing, this purpose, this Calling.

I do not think myself the caliber of man the Apostle Paul was, but I think I have a handle on some of the words he spoke expressing his struggle to "attain it" (Philippians 3). I understand what it is to blunder and see others blundering it, by attempting to force people to their spiritual conclusions by guilt and other nasty tactics, instead of just speaking from the deep passion that burns within them, letting the hearers understand their own responsibility to know for themselves. Saul (Paul) was the epidemy of that kind of leader before he was knocked off his high horse. And after, the errors in judgement he made he did not make excuses for, but apologized openly. I can respect that. I think any regular joe can respect that. I just hope that all ministers would realize this and get a solid grip on that kind of attitude.

Everything, ultimately, is about the process because it is what truly purifies and wholesome-izes. The process is unrelenting. It keeps the pressure on us, even in times we cannot feel it. It's what chips away all the junk in us, causes us to soberly self evaluate and regroup. The process is patient, longsuffering, turning us, herding us ever more in line with the Master plan.

Times I run away to the outback trying to escape the pressure is part of the process. It's out here in the wild where God sits down next to me, listens to my gripes, and washes away the frustration with His still, small voice. He reminds me who I am and Who's I am. He does that miracle thing that gets me to care again, to want to go back to that place I instinctively try so hard to avoid, that place of trouble. And I tell Him I will do it because I remember all the trouble He has gone to just to get close to me. What trouble I have to weather is nothing compared to what He has done for us. And it is nothing compared to the reward that awaits His faithful ones. What a wise, patient, wonderful God I serve.