It's Going To Take Some Time This Time

It's going to take some time this time
To get my (heart) in shape
I really feel out-of line this time
I really missed the gate
- Carole King

I was handed the reins of a ministry. I had paid my dues in the stable, served faithfully and responsibly. Now it was my turn on the track.

It was a dream! I was given the freedom, resources and time to develop a very special ministry. I pursued it with passion figuring this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Not wanting to make mistakes I did my research carefully. I interviewed those who had gone before me. I traveled the globe to talk with others on this journey. I prayed. I made a list of what was important to me, the things that resonated with my heart. I discarded the traditions that seemed like a box and would hold us back from winning the race. Then at the end of all my planning something wonderful happened; God showed up! He lent His ideas to my feeble ones and blew His Spirit on the whole mess; our pony was ready to run!

Then the tug-of-war began. Somebody else grabbed a hold of the reins thinking that I wasn't qualified or capable of running the show. So I smacked them with my riding switch and took off out the gate.

I proved the detractors wrong. I was in full stride, winning races, wearing wreaths, waving to the crowds. I fought for what was mine, what had been earned, and what I felt I deserved. It is this sense of entitlement that betrayed me.

It's going to take some time this time
And I can't make demands
But like the young trees in the wintertime
I'll learn how to bend

Others kept pulling on the rope, some in my direction, some in the other. I dug my heels in. I brought my skills of argumentation and articulation. I bloodied a few noses, all in the name of "ministry". Then I started taking shots myself. I chalked it up to fiery trials. I demonized my detractors. I was told by those around me that it was spiritual warfare so I put on my armor. The weight of it all made the racing much harder. I nearly fell a few times, but I didn't quit, I was still out in front.

And then those who owned the pony told me that I was no longer employed. The dreams I'd jockeyed for had been pink-slipped. The reign was over even before the race was finished.

After all the tears we've spent
How could we make amends
So it's one more round for experience
And I'm on the road again

Now it isn't my ministry anymore. But instead of just finding another rider, the pony is being relocated, moved to another racing track, fitted with blinders and made to pull a cart. My heart grieves.

And in the midst of the pain, I am learning. Now that I'm not racing around the track I have had some time to process what has happened. I see that I have had a high opinion of my schemes and plans. They have been more important to me than those who I have worked with in the stable. My ministry has been more important and urgent than my neighbor's well being. When I have been mistreated I have withdrawn, wallowing in self-pity towards myself and judgment towards others. I saw myself as the leader of this ministry and forgot that I was commissioned to be the lead servant.

So I'm going back to the first things: intimacy, relationship and compassion. It's a humbling journey.

And it's going to take some time this time