Things are moving along for us now. It looks like God is opening the door to a new thing, and we may be leaving our current congregation in the near future. This is beyond fantastic. It is the root of my recent improvement.
The door, of course, is not opening into what I expected. I’d been imagining that God would open an enormous double door into a gorgeous new home, more comfortable and more perfectly suited to us than where we are right now. Turns out, it’s a smallish doorway leading to a modest fixer-upper surrounded by a moat.
I’m cool with this. I trust that God will equip us for whatever He intends us to do. We have a hammer and saw and some wood, and we can build a bridge across the moat. It happens that senior pastor in our current congregation has a power saw and a barn full of wood. With his help this would go much more easily.
Husband is going to talk to senior pastor and invite him to lend his support. Among the general population of church members I would feel confident of encouragement. But based on our experience with senior pastor, it is an even 50-50 chance. He is entirely unpredictable in this circumstance.
We are asking him to have mercy on us, and I am distressed even by the asking. I have turned the other cheek so many times they are tender and bloody. Now I’m peeling off the bandage and offering it again?
I ask God to soften my heart, to give me His grace toward this man. I also struggle against any inclination to think kindly of him. I am exhausted. I am done in. Today it feels like I will be angry no matter what he does.