Through the Lens of a Dad

On my first Sunday at my new church in the Silicon Valley, I was welcomed by the MC during the service. Almost immediately, a wave of applause filled the room and I was very surprised. I was going to be overseeing the youth, not leading the country out of recession. But, I have to be honest, I loved it. I have the kind of personality that demands and craves attention. If there was a white-hot spotlight, I would run to it without reservation. I do not feel guilty about saying this because I know it is the truth about me, and it is something I struggle with constantly.

After that first Sunday, I was looking forward to being celebrated even more as the newly crowned Director of Student Ministries. But rather than celebration, the next couple of weeks resounded with mourning and sadness. My pastor’s wife was diagnosed with lung cancer and her situation, the doctors have said, was dire. She was in the later stages of the disease; her need was urgent.

Now, the spotlight was no longer on me, and I had a hard time of it. I (secretly) wanted to be the subject of conversations but I could not take center-stage. I wrestled with feeling guilty about having this desire to be celebrated and talked about at my new church. I felt awful about having that desire in the first place. Why am I feeling this way? How could I stop feeling this way? I’m supposed to be a pastor-in-training and I am dealing with ego issues? WHAT IS GOING ON?

Looking back at that time, it was chaotic and dark, but it was mostly inside of me.

It was the beginning of summer, 2006, and my time in the Seattle-area was drawing to a close. I was excited for a number of reasons and sad for just as many. Seattle had been my home for 6 years and I really thought that I would never move away from it. I was part of a thriving church plant that God used to make so many who were broken whole again. I was well-connected with friends who had become my family. I started my seminary education and loved my Church History professor. I was in the most beautiful place in this country.

But, in order for my marriage to work, I had to first be in the same city as my fiance and so I went south to the Bay Area. I was excited to be within one “driving” hour of her, instead of two “flying” hours from her. I was also excited because I was going to keep on pursuing my seminary education and continue to learn to be a pastor from a pastor I respected. I was excited to work for a much smaller church and to start over. I was excited to put into practice everything good and bad I’ve learned in Seattle about youth ministry. I was going to emphasize relationships and focus on helping the youth go deeper in their faith, to be more intentional about it.

Then, within a week of my arrival in the Silicon Valley, my pastor learned that his wife had pretty advanced lung cancer. All of my excitement was pushed aside and suddenly, I found myself in “emergency mode”. Other than my pastor, I was the only person on staff and it became clear to me that my purpose, at least the immediate one, was to help the church navigate through this difficulty. I felt scared, unprepared, and most of the time I just prayed for wisdom as I drove up and down the 880 to and from work.

As I look back on that time, I realized that I didn’t sign up for any of it. I had different expectations and goals for my life, and for my ministry. I wrestled with myself and my selfishness and my frustrations.

In the next couple of posts, I will be using this blog to go back and recall what I didn’t sign up for – I think it might be helpful for me.