Be still and know…

Maybe Eminem was on to something.

Yes… THAT Eminem.
So, tonight, I’m cleaning out my closet.

The content of his music isn’t exactly what anyone would consider “family friendly.”
But for now, I can’t seem to get around that basic idea of cleaning out my own closet.
Airing out dirty laundry, so-to-speak.

Authenticity and transparency is what is needed in ministry.
Too many ministry leaders and pastors put up a facade that they have it together because they believe in Jesus.
And those that do acknowledge struggle tends to be a surface-level, not-that-big-of-a-deal kind of issue.
No one wants their junk exposed, and I can certainly understand why.

The culture of the Church seems not to be as much about acceptance and support, but condemnation and judgment.
And how can you share your heart with someone you don’t trust with it?

Example: I don’t remember what the thing was, only that it was a conversation that had taken place between myself and the pastor of a church.
Then I remember months later being asked about whatever the thing was by his wife…
Do you think I would have the trust to go to him with anything deeply troubling my heart?
Unlikely.

That is why the broken try to find healing in things that will ultimately bring more pain.
And I really believe that is why most people who are hurting tend to turn a cold shoulder to the Church.
They are tired of cliches, one-size-fits-all answers, and being gossiped about under the guise of “prayer requests.”
I know that’s why I never sought help from the Church.

Because somewhere along the way, the attitude of the church parted ways with the heart of Jesus.

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This is a weird and difficult season for me.
I feel like I’m fighting to keep my head above water.

Things keep happening, going wrong.
Before I can work through and get over one thing, another comes up.
And quite frankly, its a bit overwhelming.

The sudden breakup.
My grandmother’s passing.
Speaking engagement cancelled.
Possibile career change into a full time ministry position dashed.

Everything happened in a whirlwind, and I’m still trying to get my feet back under me.
Just a thought of one sends my mind racing through the gauntlet again as I force back tears and find myself literally gasping for breath.

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I stumbled across this recently in one of my old blogs.
The date is from August 2007, but it applies today just as well.

Over the past three years, I’ve changed a lot.
But some things haven’t changed at all…

I still have conversations, look at my relationships, and question.
What have I missed?
What could I have done, or be doing, differently?
What is God waiting on?

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Last Wednesday night I got a phone call from my mom.
She had been told that Granny Audry had only less than 24 hours to live.
It wasn’t surprising.
She’d been in failing health for months now.
But still when you get that kind of time frame, it sobers you.

I packed a few things and drove home to Geraldine.
It was around 10:30 when I arrived.
Only mom and dad were there, my grandmother’s pastor’s wife, some close cousins, and a neighbor.
Granny looked awful.
It had been so hard to see her deteriorate like this.
Of course, only a few days before was the first time I’d seen her on one of her worse days.

I went to bed at 11:40, hoping to catch a little rest before morning.
No such luck.
As soon as the lights were out and my head hit the pillow, I was called to the den.

Granny’s breathing had changed.
It would be any minute now, and she would be gone.
Once my dad had been woken up and we had a chance to say our last “I love you’s” I closed my eyes and prayed.
“God, please take her peacefully.”

When I opened my eyes, she was gone.

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