We love our new home. God has truly provided for us, and we are very thankful. Our friends have been wonderful and came through for us in so, so many ways.
I’m not sure how I feel about not being a pastor anymore. On the one hand, I have a lot of trauma recovery to do and sometimes I just need a moment to sit and stare. But on the other hand, there aren’t a lot of people who know what the gospel is and it burns in me. I wish I knew how to tell everyone.
But there is no taste for it anymore. People want to hear about how other people are ruining the country, how to live so that you aren’t like other people, and how it would be if our kind of people were in charge. None of that is the gospel. But that doesn’t seem to matter to the church anymore.
When we bought our house, the previous owners left a vintage component stereo system hooked up in the garage. It appears to be from the late 60s or early 70s. It is complete with the huge, plywood encased speakers. The sound is like nothing I have heard for the last 30 years. Fabulous.
I’m tired. I read somewhere that the hardest trauma to recover from is face-to-face irrational hate. This describes so much of what we have endured. Recovery might take some time. I’m not sure where to begin.
But our home is beautiful, and I am surrounded with love. The Shepherd has me in a tight embrace of love. That is a lot and I am confident that there will be healing in our future.
Here is an interesting fact about the city we have moved to: there is a railway bridge over one of the main roads. The clearance is pretty low. The trucks won’t change their route, and the railroad won’t change their bridge. So two or three times a month, a truck gets stuck under the bridge. Reality has a tendency to stubbornly refuse to change based upon the desires or beliefs of truck companies or railroads.
But even when a truck is stuck for pretending that reality is different than it is, the community responds with kindness, and helps wherever they can. There is a lesson there somewhere.
I have gotten myself stuck so many times trying to pretend that reality is different than it is. I am trying not to do that anymore. I am me, and there are certain types of people who will hate me and try to get as many people as they can to hate me as well. But I will still wash feet. Still follow my Shepherd; still love my wife; still proclaim peace to people that you probably don’t like, and still eat with sinners. I am just going to try to not let the hatred of others get to me so much. Life is too short.