A Life Observed

Time is passing so quickly, a common middle-aged observation. I think it and hear it all the time. Recent days have been full of activity, as we are anticipating a move back to the States. I’m still waiting on a final word, a “call” as we refer to it in the ministry. But we have positive assurances and a sense of God’s leading that tell us this is the way forward for Sharon, myself, and the wider Adventist community.

The whole experience of contemplating a move, planning a change of continents, leaving dear friends and making new ones, all of this and more is proving a bitter-sweet feeling, a mix of loss and eagerness.

The process of pastoral change in the Adventist church, at least in America, involves numerous interviews. The interview process is nothing new for an Adventist pastor. We are interviewed several times by committee’s and church leaders before leaving University. We are evaluated by local church boards, formally and informally. It feels like an endless process, something not for the faint of heart or insecure. In fact, the whole of the pastoral life as a spiritual leader involves being open to the deeply probing personal observations of others. The man (woman) is most often the message, therefore, we are continual subjects of interpretation, evaluation, and conclusions. We and our near ones, our dear ones, live under the discerning, and at times not so discerning, eye.

Being a naturally introspective fellow, the process keeps me in a state of openness to change, a good thing but also stressful at times. Perhaps this has led me to my strong belief in remaining adaptable, flexible in my leadership and general outlook on life. Of course, there are dangers which I succumbed to more often when I was younger, those of becoming rigid in my thinking in the attempt to protect myself from the rigors of change and the fear of compromising principles. After all, I am an absolutist when it comes to ethics.

At this point in my endlessly changing life, I’m thankful to have the conviction and assurance that God loves me, that he is near me in my need, and that his plans will unfold as naturally as a flower in spring if I will abide in him through faith. It is his promise and presence that give the mundane day as well as the “interesting” times a sense of meaning for me, a sense of purpose, significance, and security in knowing him.

With an increasing knowledge of God, an increasing personal experience of his love for me, I find myself growing through the necessary pains of life, growing, again like that spring flower, upward toward the warmth of the sun, taking in the nourishment of God’s grace. I know the day will come when the flower fades, when the grass withers. It will as if it’s only tomorrow, very soon, perhaps suddenly, but not unexpected. In all of life there is the movement toward an end, the telios, the goal. Yet with God, through faith in the righteousness he provides me through the death of his Son for my sins, what the world calls an end, a death, a loss of all things imagined, all things hoped for, there is in God the wonderful assurance of everlasting life, when all the good things of God are restored to those who followed him in sacrifice as they carried their cross behind Jesus.

I look forward under that cross, feeling my own and seeing his ahead. The shadow of my Lord in his crucified form is the most profound promise that I will indeed live again. In that light and shadow I move forward without fear or regret, not because of who I am, but because of who he is, a God of tender mercies and steadfast love, One who is good for his Word and full of life.

Comments

[Marty]

Well said, watching your move is like watching your life in slow motion as it parades by you. It rents the heart.

[Jan McKenzie]

Thanks, Marty. As a fellow pastor I know you've experienced this before. For me, it's my first church move. As I've said, bitter-sweet. Hope your well and keeping above the water now.