I hate preaching tough messages. I really wish I could preach sunshine and lollipops all the time. I don’t like preparing for tough messages; it always puts me in a weird mood.
I’ve recently spent a day away with the board from Centerville United Methodist Church (where I pastor). During this day, we revisited how God used the church in 2015, and then we refocused what we were called to do in 2016.
This past weekend I continued what is arguably the most controversial sermon series I’ve ever preached. While the first week of the series was sort of a “set-up” for what was to come, during the second one we finally dove into some issues that aren’t always easy to talk about. The tension in the room was palpable.
For the past two weeks the church has sounded more like a construction yard than a sanctuary. We’ve been pulling up carpet, scraping glue, and moving tile. We are in the midst of a facelift that will remove all the carpet in the welcome center and replace it with beautiful large tile.
So, do you ever get that feeling that you know you have to do something, and at the same time you know it is going to suck a little (or maybe even a lot)? I’ve been wrestling with that feeling since November, and it is all about this upcoming series.
I wouldn’t exactly call myself a Christmas Eve Veteran, but it isn’t as if I’m a rookie either. I am smack dab in the middle of what most would call “journeyman status” as a pastor who is navigating the self-imposed stress of one of the biggest nights of the year.
Dear Church Family,
As 2015 winds down I think back on what an incredible year it has been. The amazing growth of the food pantry, paying apportionments at 100% for the first time in over a decade, and the new young families who have joined us for worship – all nothing short of miraculous.
I have a serious issue with overcommitting – I pretty much think that I can do anything at anytime. I also think that I can squeeze in one more thing on any given day; I mean: Who doesn’t have time for one more meeting?
Dear Shiloh,
This is one of those moments that I want to make sure you remember. Right now you are young (and adorable), and one of the problems with that is that sometimes we forget. I don’t want your to forget what you mom is doing for you, and for other little girls like you.
My eyes were half open when I could see the red outline of the alarm clock. It read, “3:00 am”. I was disturbed by what sounded like a heard of elephants. Rather than elephants, it was my five-year-old making a trip from his bed to ours. He doesn’t do it that often, but when he does join us it disrupts everything. Even though we have a king-sized bed, it still manages to mess up uninterrupted sleep.