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This is the place for quiet meditations and reflections. No debate is permitted, and we ask that the fact that this is a Christian-owned site be respected in that the majority of the spiritual reflections expressed here will be Christian in perspective. We ask that mediations that are blatantly unorthodox or contrary to Christianity not be posted. Respectful interaction and posting by those of other beliefs is permitted. Moderators are given wide discretion and latitude as to the appropriateness of posts in this area.

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She Made Me the Pastor

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  • She Made Me the Pastor

    Many years ago, I was called to be the Pastor to a small Church NW of Houston. I was still running my Computer Business, and serving as Pastor on a bivocational basis. The small congregation was meeting in a house, having split from another Church.

    I would not even CONSIDERED Pastoring such a situation, but they assured me they had reconciled with the Church from which they had split, and all parties agreed the city needed another Baptist Church. (I found out later there was no such reconciliation)

    I have always been drawn to crisis management and problem solving opportunities, and this seemed like a good one.

    After about 4 months as Pastor, however, I began to think I had made a mistake. The three deacons seemed to think this was THEIR church, and they treated me more like their "hired gun" than as Pastor. Nonetheless, the Church began to grow, and I found a Church building that was being abandoned by a Missionary Baptist group. The building was in great shape, and I negotiated a deal to rent the building from them, as we were outgrowing the house where the Church had begun.

    We were still growing, but the Deacons seemed to think I needed to do things THEIR way, and questioned nearly every decision I made, and tried to tell me how to preach. They had no concept, apparently, of the role of deacons.

    More families were joining, and it was quickly becoming a viable congregation, but I was really tired of "knocking heads" with the Church's original leadership. I began to realize -- I'm NOT "the Pastor", I'm just their hireling.

    My wife and I began to pray, "Lord, send us somebody to whom I can really be PASTOR" -- somebody to be an encourager and partner rather than a constant critic. (I was young, and this was a "growing" phase) In fact, I had pretty well decided that if this did NOT happen "next Sunday", I was going to admit defeat and move on.

    Next Sunday came. Good attendance. Good service. At the "invitation" (altar call) at the end, a little old bent over woman - probably about 75 years old - stepped out into the isle and started coming to the front. As she got closer, I noticed her "coke-bottle bottom" glasses, and her frail manner. As she slowly moved forward, aided by her walker, I remember thinking a fleshly thought -- "Lord, is this a JOKE? Is this how you're answering my prayer?"

    She was a nice old lady, and she said she wanted to join the Church, and told me briefly her Salvation story. I shared with the Church that Ms. Glenna had come to join, and, as is our custom, we welcomed her, and most of the people came forward to hug her and/or shake her hand and say a word of welcome.

    But I went home discouraged. I actually thought God would send a fellow-laborer -- a coworker -- maybe a young COUPLE who would jump in and help get things fired up.

    Monday is typically my "off" day, so I was at home. About 10:30 in the morning, my doorbell rang. I opened the door. It was Ms. Glenna. Her grandson was with her, and was holding something in both hands. Ms. Glenna looked up at me through those incredibly thick glasses, and she said some of the most beautiful words I've ever heard in my life.

    She said, "I baked some apple pies this morning, and I just wanted to bring one to my Pastor".

    "MY PASTOR"

    All at the same time, my heart was filled with joy -- and shame. God had truly answered my prayer, for He had sent me a prayer warrior, an encourager, a serious student of the Bible, a genuine friend, a trusted adviser, a "gramma" to my children, a role model to my wife.... all in the form of this crumbled up old lady with thick glasses, for whom I am eternally grateful.

    God really does have a sense of humor -- and He really does answer prayer.

    She made me feel like a real Pastor. And I began to act like one.
    "Neighbor, how long has it been since you’ve had a big, thick, steaming bowl of Wolf Brand Chili?”

  • #2
    This was really touching.

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    • #3
      Originally posted by Scrawly View Post
      This was really touching.
      I call those "spiritual slapdowns". If you LEARN something from them, they're WORTH it!
      "Neighbor, how long has it been since you’ve had a big, thick, steaming bowl of Wolf Brand Chili?”

      Comment


      • #4
        Originally posted by Cow Poke View Post
        I call those "spiritual slapdowns". If you LEARN something from them, they're WORTH it!
        So you're saying that God gives you lots of Gibbs style smacks to the back of the head?
        "If you can ever make any major religion look absolutely ludicrous, chances are you haven't understood it"
        -Ravi Zacharias, The New Age: A foreign bird with a local walk

        Be watchful, stand firm in the faith, act like men, be strong.
        1 Corinthians 16:13

        "...he [Doherty] is no historian and he is not even conversant with the historical discussions of the very matters he wants to pontificate on."
        -Ben Witherington III

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        • #5
          Originally posted by Raphael View Post
          So you're saying that God gives you lots of Gibbs style smacks to the back of the head?
          That's a PERFECT way of saying it!

          "On your six, boss!"
          "Neighbor, how long has it been since you’ve had a big, thick, steaming bowl of Wolf Brand Chili?”

          Comment

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