The Rev. Lyda Pierce asks, "Where is God in tragedy?" And, she challenges those being commissioned and ordained to "stand with" those to whom they are sent rather than trying to dive in to try and "fix" the them. You can pick up the sermon at about 14:18.
Thank you, Lyda.
I am heading home after a difficult day at work. Nothing bad happened. I actually accomplished a lot. The snow didn't drive me homewards. I wrote a letter of recommendation, talked to someone about a wedding, prepared for and led a church meeting, worked on a jurisdictional event, prayed, and did general office work. Yet, sometimes I wonder what gifts God has given me, and I am never sure if I use them to the best of my ability. I've been struggling with living a much deeper spiritual life - trying to stick to fixed hour prayer, praying an hour a day for my church, and being more intentional about my body and health. For all of that, and it has been fantastic, I still struggle with things. Are they idols I won't let relinquish? Or, is it humility that I want only the best for the people I serve and to whom I attempt to minister?
As I look back on this note, I notice the word "struggle" is overused, but it is the correct word in every place. What is this struggle about? And, how can I stay in it to the end where I, hopefully, will find a new strength and trust in what I can do, find strength in what I actually do, and trust how God uses me in the world?
I sometimes wonder if I'm the only one I know who lives with internal struggles. Don't get me wrong: I'm strong-headed, pretty sure of my intellect, and I have firm beliefs about certain things. I'm not a pushover. But, in those deep places of the soul, there remains an uncertainty about a lot of things in which I believe I should be more grounded. On good days, this manifests as awe. I ask, "How is it that I serve a beautiful congregation that deeply loves God and yearns to serve the world?" I marvel that I've been entrusted with people's stories, their joys, their pain, and their hopes. On other days I doubt.
In a struggle for faithfulness, I hope that I am not doubting God. Yet, in a way, I know that must be what is happening. In doubting my giftedness, am I not also doubting God's ability to use this cracked vessel of a life that is mine? I suppose that this is a confession: "Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief." Perhaps someday, maybe even tomorrow (?), I will face the world in awe instead of fear.