My Biggest Battle

My biggest battle.  Prior to the last few weeks, I might have listed any number of things had someone asked me what is the biggest battle I have faced.  Addiction (to any number of things) might have topped the list.  Depression might have been there as well: that feeling of despair that seems to sink into me every so often and from which I must continually pull myself.  Lust.  Lying.  I have fought, and in some cases, continue to fight these things, but recently, God, through the use of my pastor, my friends, and the leaves on the trees in my front yard, has made me aware of a deeper issue, one that, time and time again, has taken me away from his work for me.

I suppose it really began on Saturday, two weeks ago, as I was mowing the lawn.  The leaves on our wooded lot have begun to turn, and the colors, this time of year, are startling.  Reds, golds, silvers and greens all seem crown the trees in a palette that dwarfs the imagination.  I was marveling at the change, and the colors that this change brings, when I stooped down to pick up a newly fallen leaf.  It was that shade of red that is only seen in fall, and really was quite beautiful as it fell, but as with everything, I suppose, as I began to look more closely, the color did not seem as bright as it had when it fell, and there were dark spots there that more-than-hinted at the shades of brown decay that would soon come.  I thought at the time that there was a sermon there, some little nugget of wisdom, along the lines of "Don't look too closely" or "If you are searching for a fault, then you can be sure to find one."  As usual, when Papa is trying to tell me something, I'm a little slow on the uptake.  

Though my relationship with Papa is, as it has always been, more a product of his patience than my ability to do as I am told, I could tell (and in all honesty, have been able to tell for quite some time) that things were not quite as they should be.  On the surface, everything was fine and, in some instances, more than fine.  I was in church, if not as frequently as I had been. My prayer life was good.  My job, which I firmly believe to be part of my calling, had never been better.  But, on Saturday night, as I began praying in earnest for the service the next day, wanting and needing an outpouring of his spirit, I heard Papa whisper, "Look closer."   I didn't even have to think.  My heart dropped into my stomach and I knew.  Oh.  The leaf.  And there, in a moment, my biggest battle, one that I have faced countless times since first surrendering to the call to preach His Word, was laid bare.  

There, on a life colored by the Master's hand in the blue of a little girl's eye, the brown in the hair of my loving wife, and the greens and golds of the home he has given me, lay dark spots of hurt and resentment with which I had never truly dealt.  There is that thing in me, in all of us I believe, that wants to be well-liked, and it is that thing which the Devil, time and time again, has used so effectively against me.  Since I was first called into the ministry, there have been those, who, at just the right moment, managed to speak some hurt or criticism in my life that would, ultimately, lead to me sitting like Elijah, sulking, under a juniper tree waiting on that still small voice to tell me to move.  This is certainly not to say that anyone is at fault, other than myself, and I am struggling to come to terms with the reality check that Papa placed before me.  Ecclesiastes 7:21 says, "Also take not heed unto all words that are spoken, lest thou hear thy servant curse thee."  And, as always, this little gem finds its way effectively into more modern phrasing: "What people think about me is none of my business."  Sitting thereon that quiet, prayerful Saturday evening with this thought in mind,  I took a moment to read about the juniper tree and the prophet who ran from the words of another.  Then, when my pastor referenced the same scripture the next morning, I made a decision; I chose a path, a path which I pray that God will give me the strength to walk.  Neither my service to God, nor the church that I feel led to attend, can be based upon the opinions of others.  I must, in this and all things, choose to follow God without any consideration to what people might think or believe about me.  What others think of me is none of my business, and their opinion (good or bad) cannot be allowed to shift me from my determined purpose.  I am, and I know this now for certain, exactly where God wants me to be at this moment in my life and until his voice says move, it is there that I will stay.  For too long I have let the words of false friends, foolish leaders, and church members frustrate me, condemn me, and provide me with an excuse to walk away.  No longer. This, then, is my prayer, from Psalm 16:7-8,  "I will bless Jehovah, who hath given me counsel; Yea, my heart instructeth me in the night seasons.  (8)  I have set Jehovah always before me: Because he is at my right hand, I shall not be moved."