We resume consideration of three phases of a man (or woman’s) life by continuing to examine the wounded stage.
When Marilyn and I left Macomb Church, we were looking forward to the next spiritual adventure. “What does God have next for us?” My attitude was “Bring it on!”
Little did we know that we would relive Pharaoh’s dream of the ugly, gaunt cows eating up the fat, sleek cows. The spiritually abundant warrior years would yield to the stressful years of rejection and humiliation as we went through God’s school of discipline. So much so, that it was hard to remember the fat, fruitful years of Max, Kalamazoo and Mt. Clemens.
1. Washington We moved across America to a Seattle suburb. From 1987 – 1991, we were treated well until the chairman of the board’s son wanted to be married in the church. This was the only time the young man wanted anything to do with the church and the parents were eager for our church to reach out to their wayward son. But because the young man was living with his bride-to-be and neither were Christians, the Deacons – who controlled the building – said No to a church wedding.
The chairman appeared to accept this decision, but he later returned with an angry spirit and began criticizing me. I was the fall guy on his anger. At almost every Deacons’ meeting for three years, he publicly called for my resignation. I was naïve enough to think I could convince him that I cared about him, his son and the church.
He – along with two other men – kept up this frontal assault as well as a campaign of gossip and innuendo.
The majority of the board supported me, but urged me to be patient, not react and forgive. I was under such pressure that my neck got stiff and I was worrying off weight. It was a terrible time. When it was obvious there was no ministry left, I resigned.
2. California More training awaited me in the Bay area of California. I was brought into a pastorate as the conservative answer to the highly-gifted, but fun-fun-fun pastor who preceded me. Some members proudly said the previous pastor had “The best show in town.” Bible exposition characterized my efforts there. While there were many wonderful believers there, there was also a liberal attitude among the young adults I was not able to budge. A few key people were unhappy. When a break came, it was not all their fault. I made some mistakes. Seven years in Seattle had seemed scandalously short for a legitimate pastorate. Little did I know. When three leaders opposed me, I was not going to suffer through another three years like I had in Seattle. I resigned after just two years of serving this congregation.
3. Iowa From there, God clearly guided us to pastor a church in Iowa. Every-one agreed that I was God’s man to serve at a well-known church. Five-hundred people, a $1.5 million annual budget (most of the income was from the students of the church’s school), three other pastors and six support staff. It was a big operation.
Lacking confidence and not being sufficiently gifted in the areas where they wanted leadership, I soon had a staff revolt on my hands. A staff member I inherited led the effort to push me out. They seemed to want a CEO-type, while I was a man of the common people. My spiritual gifts of service and mercy did not create a lot of followship. Criticism arose from the staff and I resigned in August, 1998. There was no official farewell. We were devastated.
We were given three month’s salary and dismissed. After that, there was no safety net and no unemployment insurance. Shifting into austerity mode, we made that money last six months. Some have never had the enormously wealthy experience of being so broke, so needy, so wounded that God had to rescue them. Some have never been backed up to a Red Sea. Never been desperate. Never been utterly and totally dependent on God, such that they were forced to know His awesome timing and care. To be without such a spiritual-emotional-financial experience makes for poverty of soul and a limited life message.
From about 1998 to 2002, my last thought at night before dropping off to sleep was, “You are a failure.” And the first thought I had in the morning was, “You are a failure.” One does not gain spiritual weight on that diet. Being an emotional person (which remains both my weakness and my strength), I took this very hard. My wife – though also wounded – was steadily supportive at my side, although it took many years for her to fully recover.
Why do I Tell you This?
Because honesty nourishes. Transparency lets men know that openness is healing and healthy. Jesus Christ is the Truth, so truthfulness needs to characterize His followers. Too many wounded men isolate themselves. To the “real-men-don’t-cry” types and the “real-men-don’t-talk-about-their-problems” guys, I would point out that Jesus wept over Jerusalem and real men are transparent because they want to see Jesus glorified. Psalms comments many times about masculine tears (6:6, 39:12, 42:3, 56:8, 80:5, 116:8, 126:5).
Ruined by sin, our victories put us in competition with each other. But being in need, being broken and humbled becomes an opportunity to talk about how God has been gracious, caring and loving. Some Christian men don’t want to hear about the victories of others, but when they find God getting credit for a rescue, they are normally happy to “rejoice with those who rejoice.” It is humbling to think we need to be “rescued,” but we do. Constantly.
I tell you this because such wounding can be an entry point for new wisdom, and such awareness should not be hoarded. God says that when we are weak, God becomes more to us; He can and will be strong on our behalf.
This is shared with the reader because it is the common experience of many people. “No temptation hath taken you but such as is common to man.…” There was a time when I thought what I just related to you was really tough. And it was. But I now view what I went through from 1992-1998 differently (see Interpreting Correctly on page 37 and following). What happened to me is common; difficult, but not unusual. This is a normal way for God to grow a person because spiritual growth normally takes place at the breaking point.
When I shared this account with a 50-year-old woman, her response was, “That’s nothing. When I was a child, my life was threatened repeatedly and I was sexually abused.” By sharing, I gained perspective and realized that Marilyn and I got off easy. As a result of putting this in print, I hope to hear more accounts of how God has sanctified His people. So I expect my troubles will shrink even more.
Marilyn and I share this because Christians preach, lead, counsel and live out of such high-voltage experiences. Suffering and brokenness are the graduate school of faith. If we arise triumphantly, healed woundedness becomes fuel in our tank, energy within our souls, thunder on our lips, certainty in our speech and laser-beam, direct eye-contact. Conviction and resurrection power attend the healed. There’s no substitute for doing such business with the Almighty.
It is in the wounding experience that God tones down the warrior. “We learn we are not God – not even a little god, not even a little like God. We cease wanting to see our name in lights.
“Am I Enough?” Athletes who are not as agile or skilled as those who start a game spend time sitting on a bench. One brother emerging from Woundedville into Wisdomville by realizing, “I felt as though the Lord was saying to me, ‘Just value My company on the bench for a while. Are you content with Me? Am I enough?’ So I have been focusing on deepening my relationship with the Lord.”
The Product What God is doing in us is more important than what we are doing for Him. This is illustrated by what God recorded of David’s life. Looking at the record in I & II Samuel and I Kings, we see a different reporting ratio between fugitive years and monarchy years. Fourteen chapters report 11 years of fugitive wandering, but only 26 chapters are needed to report 40 years of monarchy. The fugitive years reported how God was shaping
David – preparing him, building him, refining him. Knowing David’s fugitive years of high pressure, stress and rugged wilderness hiding is more important than knowing his more leisurely years of monarchy. Once prepared for leadership, the Holy Spirit used proportionately less print in the Bible to report his monarchy years. What God was doing in David during the fugitive preparation years was more important than what David was doing for God as His king.
Christians set out to evangelize, disciple, raise Christian families, build churches, teach truth and write books. That is what we want to do for God. We expect to produce a product, an achievement, an accomplishment, a spiritual result. While God normally allows us to gain some results from our labor – gain some “product” – do some things that glorify Him – it is important to realize that we are God’s product. The most important advance being made for the kingdom is not the product we are achieving, but us. Not what we are doing for God, but what God is doing in us. And He often prepares us for grand progress through woundedness.
Recent Comments