A Realization 7/8 of the Way Through

Do you ever wonder if Jesus felt utter futility while he ministered here on Earth? Maybe a better question would be how often did he feel ineffectual and trivial, like he was spinning his wheels in the Palestinian dirt, trying to gain traction for the mission God had given him? How did he overcome the feelings of futility? Just prayer? How did he keep going when doors seemed to be slammed in his face? Did he ever wonder which way was up? Was he ever confused about his mission, especially on a day to day basis?

Here's where I'm going with this: I have no idea what I'm supposed to be doing with my life at this particular junction in the road. I've never been here before, at this spot on the map; it's foreign, like going to Europe with nothing but Mexican pesos, a backpack and a compass that doesn't point north. Things have never been this unclear, this muddled and turbulent. Thirteen summers ago I threw my life down in front of God and joyfully agreed to answer his call to ministry, to work as a missionary to the world of teenage confusion, angst, and frustration. Through four years of schooling and eight plus years of of experience I have never (rarely?) doubted that call on my life. I loved my work (mostly?) and was fiery and passionate about what I had given every ounce of my being towards. Now, I have no idea what I want anymore, much less discerning what God might want. Needless to say, my shrubbery isn't catching fire, nor are any disembodied hands writing on my wall's at home (though there are four year old-sized hand prints everywhere).

This conundrum has been thrown into sharp relief since I preached at my home church recently. I realized something while I was preaching, a thought that had "gone Osama" (into hiding...get it?...Osama...hiding...) on me in recent months: I love to teach and preach. I'd forgotten how much I enjoyed sharing with people the knowledge that was stoking my fires.

But this only adds to my confusion.

My dad made a comment after church to me: "We need to get you back into ministry." To which I responded, "Well, if you can find a ministry that doesn't involve working in a church, then sign me up." You see the last 6-8 months of my most recent ministry post was an absolute nightmare, a hell on earth in the one place that hell should not be. The following months have shown that, while I was certainly culpable to some degree in my resulting termination, there was also a large amount of lies, half-truths, deception and shady motives that played no small part in the decision to can me. All of it is neither here nor there; it's done for me now and I'm moving on. But you can understand my not wanting to jump back into a church-based ministry too soon. I need to heal; my wife needs to heal.

So that brings me back to where I started: now what? I hate my sales job, not necessarily the job, but the "big money" that I was told about--the money I need to support my family--hasn't materialized. Not even close. So, now I'm looking for another job, but decent paying ones are hard to come by for someone with so few usable job skills.

Like I said, I'm at a junction.

Couple all of this with the accompanying silence from God (or is it deafness on my part?) and you can see why I'm wondering if Jesus felt this way. The Garden of Gethsemane was an extreme example of doubting God's mission for him. I can't fathom that kind of agony-of-decision. But in the day to day comings and goings did he ever wonder,

"Is this what you want God?"

"What now God?"

"These guys? Really?"

But even more important to me is knowing how he dealt with it.

"Jesus went off by himself to a solitary place to pray."

Is that the key? Is that the missing factor, the "silver bullet?" It's with no small sense of guilt that I confess my unreliability when it comes to regular times of prayer. God knows I've tried to establish some sort of rhythm. Perhaps there is a bit of self-revelation in this for me, a realization of where I have to begin if I'm going to make any progress at the junction, deciding on the right route. (WARNING: Crappy Christian cliche ahead!) I have to turn the power back on, reconnect myself to the power source before the light will come on (that was for Michael B.). At any rate, without having more than a superfluous connection to God I can't hope to move on down the road. It has to begin there.

After that we'll see what happens.

shalom, matt