Jesus has me in boot camp?

rch-phd.com

I am preaching a couple Sundays in August and I'm really looking forward to speaking.  I have so much fun when I speak and I feel like I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing.  Sometimes I throw pity parties for myself (no one ever comes, though everyone is invited) because I only feel like I come alive when I'm speaking or leading worship, which combined I think I do about six times a year.  I endure a whole bunch of monotony until I can head to the next speaking or worship event.

There are times I long for the days of college (which were only two years ago), when I was planning events, coordinating with churches, speaking a minimum of twice per week.  I worked with a team of incredible people who all supported each other.  All night prayer sessions and prophetic prayer walks were the norm.  Now I'm the weird Jesus-freak guy answering your 911 calls and making the "I'm not religious" firefighters nervous to say hello in the morning.  "Walk by quickly, maybe he won't see me."  After ten years of doing my best (or at least offering minimal effort) to follow Jesus, I know that we Jesus lovers are a bunch of weirdos who don't cuss nearly enough and think house fires could be put out with some prayer (and a hose).  Sometimes I pray for the guys when they go to a call if the call sounds like it could be trouble.  I also pray for the cops when they are pursuing someone or going to a dangerous situation.  They don't know it, but I think Jesus can take the credit for three successful foot chases since I've started here.  "God, please let them catch the guy and keep them safe" followed by the radio call of the cops "We got 'em, we got 'em, slow it down."

I start seminary classes on August 20.  I was debating for three years if I should attend seminary.  I guess God got tired of my dillydallying because He brought me a friend with an envelope who said, "Have you been troubled about attending seminary because of money?"  "Um, yes, Jesus freak weirdo guy with good insight."  "Here's an envelope, it's got $1,000 in it.  Don't thank me, thank God."  I was accepted into seminary within three weeks.  I'll dispatch overnights while reading about Jesus and maybe catch up on Lost on Netflix, though I'm told the ending is awful (don't ruin the misery for me).  Sounds ideal, doesn't it?  Sounds like God pieced it all together.  I'm in a forced monasticism of dispatch and seminary, living out the emergency medical tech's version of being a monk.  If the guys start calling me Brother Stephen, I'm gonna stop shaving my head so I can have the old man horseshoe look and start showing up wearing brown hoodies.

All of this should point to the sovereign and divine arm of the Creator, leading and directing the steps of my life.  There are nights when I am so overwhelmed with thankfulness that I am speechless despite the fact that there is no one here with me to listen.  Then there are shifts like tonight, where I spend time reading about faith in the news, the division in the churches, the poor who need to meet someone who represents Jesus, the homosexual marriage activists who think all Christians are bigoted and judgmental, the victims of gang and gun violence (which is clearly a problem of gun legislation, not a sin problem), how we're supposed to boycott eating Chick-fil-a now because the CEO "hates gays" (but if Christians boycott a Planned Parenthood we're against women's rights and full of more hatred - can anyone take a Christian stance now without being hated?), and I get frustrated.  Jesus, you want me in this small 911 center reading books and answering phones while my brothers and sisters around the world get killed for Your cause?  I'm supposed to stay here in my quiet little room by myself and reflect while the spiritual war between Satan and Your children wages on?  I'm like the guy who gets put on the bench so the big boys can out and play.  At least that's how I feel some days.

I'm not unappreciative, though it sounds like I am.  I am incredibly thankful that God has granted me a solid job, a good church, a good girlfriend, and a solid education.  I just feel like a boy in basic training who wants to see action in the field, the cadet in the police academy who wants to do more than make his bed the proper way for morning inspection.

I know there's value in this time, that no soldier is eligible for promotion without attending basic training and officer candidate school.  I know it is an honor to serve the Lord at all, to even be extended His grace and mercy, to have a place before His throne.  And by the grace and prompting of God, I will do the best I can to obey Him and use this time wisely, to fight in prayer where I cannot physically go and lend my hand.  I will take this time to learn about my Creator, to understand His heart, and to spend more time in silence and adoration of the God who has called me.  I'm not being stubborn or resentful, angry or bitter.  In fact, there are days where I'm more sad than anything else, wishing that I was somewhere than I'm not.

--I wrote the above a few days ago. I had to stop writing because my shift ended and I never took the time post it.  I'm going to post it as is and not add a nice, catchy conclusion that involves the words "true story."  I think that kind of describes how it is to work here in the middle of the night.  No real conclusion, no real answers to what's next.  It sort of satisfies my need for adventure.  Until next time, sports fans.