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.
My Only Comfort 
I pray God would bring healing to you and your family. I cherish and appreciate your online ministry very much. I think it would be really amazing if you start pastoring a church again, since I believe the body of Christ really need people like you who love the gospel. But I understand and respect your choice. Healing is much needed after such trauma. One cannot just keep going after getting injured without getting healed first.
Thank you for sharing the good, bad, ugly. I know the trauma of those who choose to target me for hate. Looking to God Who loves us most. God bless you little brother.
The beauty of His heart shines through you. I am moved to tears by your courageous commitment to continue to love in this dark and broken world. It may not be long that we may serve Him sight unseen as the Glorious Day approaches.
Thank you for your kind words ❤️
Praying for your good healing, Sam. I love the 23 Psalm, He maketh me lie down in green pastures. “Maketh,” as in the healing and rest is mandatory. Also, it’s a really nice pasture to hang out in, not a punishment at all, but more like well done good and faithful servant, come sit with me for a while.
There’s a huge invisible church not really affiliated with the church at large as an institution, and I’m pretty sure we are all pastors or ministers of some sort within it. I’ve never really understood this, “office of pastor” thing. Pretty sure all the work of loving our neighbor is supposed to be carried out by the lay people, which would be us.
I really like that. Thanks
Hi Sam.
I hear you……..
Then I thought about your last paragraph and found it settling.
My hurts and regrets fade away as I do the loving of others; and it’s spending time with the worst sinners that seem to be most effective at washing away any suffering I have experienced.
Love your words.
Thanks.
Sam, I am so sorry, that you went through so much pain. I love that you wrote, that the Good Shepherd, is wrapping his arms of love around you. I want to thank you. I am healing from trauma from my childhood. What you wrote in the past, the Lord has used your words, to heal and comfort. Press on my friend! The Lord has you!
Thank you!
“I’m tired. I read somewhere that the hardest trauma to recover from is face-to-face irrational hate.”
“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. But I will still wash feet…I am just going to try to not let the hatred of others get to me so much. Life is too short.”
When words describing their own pain, resonates with the pain of others, it can be easy for the latter to take the attention away from the former, who should rightly be given as much space as needed to express themselves. In a nutshell, let them be the center of attention (in a good way).
But don’t just stare at their pain. Sit with them as well. Share your time with them. Share their pain with them. Share as much love as possible. Speak as little as possible.
Just do what Job’s friends started out doing, but later they became Job’s undoing. They kept trying to restructure reality in a way that allowed them to shame Job’s pain when they should have simply shared his pain.
I often look back at my traumas and blame myself for “pretending” the clearance was high enough (it wasn’t). For “denying” that my truck was too tall (it was). I thought the bridge would raise itself (it didn’t), so why bother to change my route (I should have).
These are two perfectly valid but very different forms of transport, with certain limited capabilities and rock hard realities. There are certain ways they can or cannot coexist, and sometimes it threatens my very existence!
Thank you so much for sharing the way that you do. It gives us all a chance to sit with each other, share in your personal pain, and hopefully make your existence a little less painful in the process. And also make ours a lot less painful. It is good for us to know we are not alone when we have each other to lean on.