John Stott, a renowned Christian pastor/teacher/author was once asked by someone, "How do you determine God's will for your life?" His answer? "Go wherever your gifts will be exploited the most."
My interpretation of that statement is that my true calling is found wherever my gifts are used to the fullest...that sacred place where my passions and my natural God-given talents are incredibly vulnerable, I have to trust God and, as a friend of mine told me a year or so ago, "be bold, be brave, and be faithful"...and experience God doing amazing things.
That's easier said than done, mostly because it is freaking heartbreaking.
I was a hospital chaplain for almost four years, during my "sabbatical" from local church ministry. I loved it. I was good at it. I had the gifts to be a career chaplain.
However, I chose to become a pastor again because I realized that chaplaincy was not my true calling. In some ways, it was too easy: I usually would swoop into a room, offer 5-15 minutes of my presence, listening skills, words of comfort, and prayer. Then, I would leave, and most of the time, I would never see that person or that family again. In other ways, it was too frustrating. I would have a really good visit with someone, go fairly deep...and then the visit would end, they'd be discharged, and I would never have a chance to follow up with them or build a relationship.
Emotionally, it did not require much of me. My gifts (which include compassion and a personality that values relationships) were not being used to the fullest...I was not made vulnerable, and I just sensed that something was missing. I wanted more...God was calling me to be more...
So, I became a pastor again. After 11 months in my current appointment, I can say that HERE is where my true calling is...because HERE my gifts are most definitely exploited.
In the past eight months, I have had eleven deaths between my two churches. As I have grown closer to my people, each death and each funeral has required more and more of me on an emotional level...seeing people I love in pain, walking with someone through the "valley of the shadow of death", being that strong, calming, pastoral presence in the midst of grief, preaching a funeral sermon (that you hope and pray will do justice to and celebrate the life that someone lived and how God worked in and through them and that it will bless the family and bring glory to God), and in the midst of all that, dealing with my own feelings of grief and loss which, although they pale in comparison to those of the family and even those of many in the congregation, are very real and powerful.
In March, I laid to rest a beloved member of the church and community whom I had connected with, and would have liked to connect with more if she hadn't gotten sick and died. I cried (privately) when I left her room for what I knew would be the last time. I channeled my emotions into her funeral service, which I think was one of the best I've done so far. I was calm and I was strong...but I will confess that after the graveside service, instead of going immediately to the church for the reception, I drove to a safe spot and cried for a few minutes before pulling myself together and heading to the reception. It was painful and emotional...but it was also so incredibly honoring and fulfilling to be able to celebrate this woman's life. I would not have wanted anyone else to do it.
Death number 12 is coming in the near future, unless a miracle happens. He's been sick for a long time and this is not a surprise, but it will hit me harder...and is already hitting me harder...than all the others combined. I've had more time and opportunities to connect with this individual and his wife, they've blessed me a lot (probably without realizing it, and possibly more than I've blessed them), and their son is also a UM pastor who is in the clergy group I attend on a fairly regular basis. This member is a beloved member of the church, and his death will hit both my congregations fairly hard. I hate hate hate seeing people I love in pain/grief...and I am already sensing anticipatory grief from all angles. I sense it on Sunday morning, when we share prayer requests. I sense it when I visit their home. I sense it from my colleague/friend...and I'm definitely sensing it in myself, as I sit here crying and feeling ridiculous for being this emotional on behalf of people who I didn't even know a year ago, but who have wormed their way into my heart.
Where my open heart is...there my vulnerability lies, and where my passion and gifts can be best used by God.
So, I will put on my big girl panties, I will attach them with super glue if I need to, and I will keep a box of tissues handy for the next few weeks/months...and with fear, trembling, and a huge dose of faith and reliance on God, I will brave the pain, bare my heart, offer my relational compassion...and trust that God will exploit/utilize my gifts and offerings to God's glory...and that by God's grace I will be who I need to be for everyone involved.
It will be hard on so many levels...but it's what God is calling me to do and who God is calling me to be...and I wouldn't have it any other way.
However, I solicit your prayers that after this, we will have a break from funerals for a while. I'd like us to have a season of joy. My people deserve some joy.
