Approximately three years ago, I found myself dragging my soul through the darkest corridor I’ve ever traveled through. It didn’t help that I created this mess myself. Somewhere along the line of trying to navigate life outside of my calling….
Sometimes we develop the belief that we are unqualified and unworthy of the life that God has purposed for us…. and we doubt that our lives were created for such a moment like this.
You know what makes it smile. • You know what makes it cry. • You know what makes it rage with anger. ….. Most of all… you know, if what other see, is the real you
I was aware of her traumatic childhood. I was also aware of how it had impacted her life. Her father was extremely abusive to her mother and to the family. In fact, she bore a small scar near her eye from a brick that her father had flung at her when she was little. Her experiences caused her to be abrasive in her interactions at times. She could be distrusting of people and it took a while to gain her trust.
As a child, I had a hard time understanding why my dad would wake us up at the break of dawn. Nevertheless, his internal clock was equivalent to that of a rooster.
It’s not everyday that I find an inebriated man laying his hands on me, and praying over me. Nevertheless, this was the exact situation that I found myself in while on a business trip in Farmington, NM.
I rehearsed a handful of responses as I walked toward their car. Although I didn’t know them, I was certain that they were going to ask me for money. Lately I had been approached by a number of transients asking for help. Rather than constantly giving money, I made a practice of keeping snacks in my car to give to give to those who were hungry. But honestly, I found this to be tiresome, and was no longer doing it with a joyful heart.
As I left the building, I saw the transient couple sitting in the beat-up-Yugo that I had seen earlier. Not wanting to engage in conversation, I tried to make a quick break to my car….. but before I got too far, I heard someone call out to me. “Pastor John! Can we talk to you?”