A crisis of faith and a journey toward redemption

So for a while I have been thinking how to share this. I guess a "precursor" to the rest of this entry is that some words, thoughts and descriptions won't REALLY convey the whole situation. For a while I think that's why I did not want to share this here, because the thought was that in the retelling, I'll feel that most (if not all) won't REALLY get the depth of the situation. I could go on ranting about the frustrations I have with the disconnection that can come with sharing deeply personal trials, but for now I'll conclude the intro.

So, in reading the previous posts, you have some sense of my personality and some of the issues that I faced while away in England. But the story has more to it than a simple "it was challenging" answer.

Last year (2007) around mid May, our assistant pastor came forward and confessed to an affair. This hit a lot of us hard. This wasn't expected at all when I started my year, and while there were challenges, 2007 was looking like a promising year overall. What hit me was that I felt a strong connection with him and his family. His wife had migrated to the UK from South Africa and I felt that out of anyone at church they understood how hard the re-planting process could be.

In short, when that happened I lost my main roads of social support. I value my social life, and the people around me to a degree that maybe some might not understand, but being in a country where no one knows me, or how I grew up, or my family history or ANYTHING about me, I began to feel very alone.

As the summer unfolded, I was trying to keep up in ministry while feeling it was hard to really recharge or talk about the building emotional pain. By July, I had spiritually run myself into the ground. I was serving because I thought "that's what a pastor does, you just keep going because it's what people expect". I was doing things FOR God, and totally missing the relationship that God was wanting to have with me.

I eventually got a bad cold during the last big event of summer, and felt terrible that I was present but unable to really serve in the capacity that I had committed to. All this going, going, going and not taking time to REALLY sort out my heart really began to weigh on me. Burnout hit probably in August sometime, but I ignored the signs (the growing anger and frustration, the fatigue in my spirit and emotions). Eventually in all my "serving" my faith and resolve to survive was slowly dissolving.

I hit "bottom" sometime in October. I was serving at our weekly Alpha course, and as each week went by, I was growing more and more restless in my soul. I was really angry because people were sharing how good God had been to them, and how much He loves people, and yet my experience was telling me something else. Finally one night I came home after Alpha to an empty house, and I had it out with God...

I thought "God, you know all things, and nothing is hidden from you. So you had to have known when you called me here that this year would play out like this." I was angry. Livid in fact, at the thought that God had filled me with such hope, enthusiasm and expectation at my arrival in 2006, and here it was a little more than a year later and hope and faith were all but gone. What kind of God allows that to happen??? God is love??? Give me a break. He's misleading, he's withholding information and distant when I need him the most. Those were my thoughts, and in that lonely moment there were two sad options before me. Either stay in England, find some other job that I won't be passionate about and hope to somehow stick out the toughness of the situation and keep fighting, or return to Oak Park. The idea of return seemed a bit more appealing, but it also felt like I was abandoning the fight, and even though I felt so ragged and worn and forgotten in the midst of all the pain that people were feeling around me, I wanted to stay and fulfill my commitment.

As I was lying there in bed that night, I was lost, lonely, and depressed. I felt defeated even. I told God "If I don't belong in Bognor or Oak Park, then take me from this damn rock of a planet now!" I awoke the next morning, and found that God didn't strike me down. The next few weeks I contemplated how I might make my own exit from life.

Somehow, I made it through and returned to Oak Park sad and empty. I still had lonely days after my return and even now I am still unsure of the future (but the Zoloft is helping, I think). But the one thing I do know is that my heart is still in ministry. I still want to see the King and Kingdom come and move on earth as it is in heaven. Does God love me? Absolutely. Is God good in all He does? YES (the Bible says so, and if I'm in this, I can't just abandon the promises of God). Does that automatically mean that He will keep me from experiencing the consequences of others actions? ...not really.

God has an interesting way of restoring. In the midst of the wrestling and working out my faith after almost losing it, God has shown me signs that He's still beckoning me on to that relationship.

This past Sunday at church I was up front for prayer. I noticed a woman who looked in pain who was asking our Senior pastor for prayer. I watched them for a bit, and I could tell she must have had some accident with her right ribs (cause she was holding them during prayer). I thought to go over and join in the prayer, but then I thought "naw, the pastor has this one. If he comes and asks me to go pray, then I'll take it as a sign from God and go." Well, it was only a matter of time :-) Sure enough, I was asked to go pray, and probably the most amazing miracle happened.

You have to understand, this woman took a fall in the shower this past week and landed her ribs on the edge of the tub. The look of pain on her face before prayer told me that she had at the very least, bruised the ribs (if not fracturing them). She couldn't even laugh without wincing in pain. After prayer, she said she felt that something had moved in her ribs, and she was laughing, smiling and moving with normal function! Tell me God doesn't care! :-)

So, this all presents an interesting issue for me. I'll tell you now, most (if not all) my current issues with God are probably selfish. I don't want to see another church crisis or be alone like last year ever again. But I also have to reconcile these issues with who God is showing Himself to be in my life and in the lives of those around me. I tell you, this isn't easy, but I also understand that all these experiences have to be for some good if I am to get "back in the saddle" of ministry.

I also have to reconcile my feelings with the reality of ministry. I won't always "feel" up to the challenges. The experience of burnout and the related issues may not be the last time I experience that (and that doesn't sit well with me). But is that not a reality I have to live with? I can't (nor would I like to) go and just bury my head in the sand and just pretend that everything is all peachy for the rest of my life. But sooner or later, I have to reconcile these issues, ya know?

At least though, for the moment, Hope is returning, and faith is being restored. Everything isn't all going to be worked out in a day or overnight, and I'm not done with sorting these things out, but I guess I felt the need to be honest and just lay it all out there. At least for now, I am starting to see that I don't need to walk this alone, and the lessons of England will continue to unfold as life goes on :-)

Till next time,

~Paul

11 days shy...

So I'm turning 28 in a little over a week. It's interesting, really. Do I FEEL 28? no...not yet. Heh heh, it's a little too close to 30 for me. Not that 30 is really BAD..it's just...older. 30 sounds like a person has wisdom and something solid to life. I don't know, I guess this entry is going to be a bit of a ramble.

I mean, after 25 why keep track? 16 you can learn to drive, 18 you can vote, 21 you can drink alcohol (lol, legally!) and 25 your insurance goes down. But between 25 and retirement, it just seems...anti-climatic.

I guess 28 isn't so bad. Maybe this year I'll actually go skydiving :-) I always take stock of my life around my birthday and I ask myself if I'm at least OK with where I'm at. The last few years it's been a yes. This year is...a bit of uncertainty. I was out earlier to walk my cousins dog (I'm back temporarily in the neighborhood where I grew up) and I was walking along the old route my family used to walk our dogs on. My how things have changed in the years since. Sure, there are the obvious changes, like houses looking slightly different, and the area that's under construction around the hospital. But as I was walking along and looking at all these things, part of me felt a twinge of sadness. The inward changes are pretty staggering too. I wonder if the changes in me are as noticeable as the physical changes to the neighborhood?

It's interesting to look at the changes of even the last year. A year ago I spent my birthday on the English seafront with friends listening to the seagulls and waves, having good conversation (and I thought that was where I was going to be this year). Funny how things change. Last year I wanted to be with American friends for my birthday...this year I miss England.

I was talking with someone recently about some of the reasons why this transition has hurt so much. He said that it's a blow to my identity, in that some people DO something for work. They clock in and they clock out and they can remove themselves from the work. The hard part about being "pastoral" or in "ministry" is that part of your identity is wrapped up in what you do. And if that work comes under stress or other hard experience, then it hits deeper. I thought "so true".

I guess birthdays are a time for reflection, but they are also a time to look ahead. I never thought I would have had the kind of experiences I've had by this time in my life. I've seen the beauty of the Canadian Rockies, I've been to the bottom of the Grand Canyon, I've grown up in Chicago, I've lived in England, I've seen the nightlights of Tokyo, and the extreme conditions of poverty in Haiti. I literally have friends around the world, and I know what it is to feel like the most forgotten person on the face of this rock of a planet. And for all that experience and the highs and lows of my life, if I died tomorrow I would probably be one of the most grateful souls to enter heaven. I look forward to many more adventures on the road ahead, and I'm thankful for all of you who have shared the journey with me (in spite of my current state of sarcasm and teasing).

Till next time,
~Paul