A Purpose and a Place


The coffee said it right there on the package; Paradise is where I am.” Ha! Bologna! How can that be? It sure doesn’t feel like paradise when your heads spinning with the bewilderment of it all.

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It was time. After eleven years of youth ministry the job we never thought we’d leave was not our calling any longer. How did we know?
• We lost motivation.
• We noticed our conversations during the week shifting from child centered ministry topics to adult centered ministry topics.
• Unsettled feeling. We were growing uncomfortable in our comfort zone.
• Our productivity had dropped.
• A fire began stirring inside of us that we can’t quench but have no outlet of release as the pressure builds.

So with certainty, and I won’t lie – a bit of fear; Josh resigned youth ministry last fall.
Whew! That was a load off! You know that amazing piece God gives when you are in perfect obedience with Him.

Now?

Hmmm…
It feels more like we’re stuck in a game of pin the tail on the donkey. Blindfolded and dizzy trying to find our way.

If you think it sounds like I’m pouting you’d be right. I’m the grumpiest pin the tail on the donkey contestant you’ll ever meet.

I like to know where I’m going and what’s to be expected of me. I also like – no – need to feel useful. And doesn’t everyone need to feel they have a purpose and a place?

The aha moment hit about here. When I bounced my thought off a wizened christian woman she disagreed. While I respect her thoughts I still can’t shake the feeling that she’s wrong about this one.

Is this valley another lesson in serving because He loves me, not so He will love me?

I’ve learned of a couple of fine lines we Christians kinda have trouble finding balance on.
A. The line between law and love. We get hung up on one and forget the significance of the other.
B. The line between works and faith. Again, we get hung up on one and forget the significance of the other.

I don’t know about any of you, but I get to feeling like I am such a mistake that I go about trying to makeup for it. And if that isn’t an insult to the blood; I don’t know what is.

The wizened Christian doesn’t think God likes siestas. She likened it to car shopping. “Does God care if you buy a car? Yes”, she said. “Does he care what color it is? No.” So if I heard this right; God cares if we serve but, isn’t picky about how we serve? And that just sounded absurd to me.

I don’t know how this is going to all turn out. I wasn’t sure it was something I could write with authority on, because I’m still feeling a bit bewildered.

I started the coffee and stood at the sink to wait for the ready beep. The snow flakes were falling fine and fast but you know the way they slow and twirl right next to the glass of the window? It’s like they’re dancing for you!

I’ve got approximately 22 minutes and 14 seconds to be alone with God before the kids start trickling down the stairs, and the house is filled with “No! It’s my turns.” and “What’s for breakfast?”. I don’t think I’ll do a thing. I’ll just set and be with He who created to have communion with me. Paradise is where you are. Yeah, maybe so. So far as earth is concerned anyway.

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