Flight Risk

3.23.2017; 12:10 pm; Delta Flight 3750 As I wait for take-off, my mind drifts to flights gone by: December, 1983 to Kansas City. I become jazzed for Jesus at a New Year's Eve prayer party sponsored by Campus Crusade for Christ. I return and discover all my possessions had been taken from my apartment. I spend the night at a local IHOP, witnessing to the waitress. For a tip, I leave two quarters and a tract, all I have left to give. March, 1988 to Boston. I visit a woman I met on a mission farm in Georgia. I spend the days reading The Autobiography of Malcolm X and the nights belittling her for being an upper-class liberal. October, 1992 to San Francisco, with my wife and infant daughter. I became so driven to write a book on faithful fathering that I leave them with the in-laws while I go off [...]

Flight Risk 2017-05-30T14:07:43+00:00

Cracked Pots

“… the jar he was making did not turn out as he hoped, so he crushed it into a lump of clay again and started over.” (Jeremiah 18.4, NLT). Some months after I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, I returned to work as a pastor. It was difficult at first, but with much prayerful support, our ministry became fruitful. People who had hidden mental health issues for fear of judgment, now confided in me and together we grew in grace, offering our whole selves in worship and outreach among those who sought healing for body, mind, and spirit. I was asked to serve as a mentor for students preparing for pastoral ministry. One weekend, they brought together mentors throughout the state for training on how to best equip persons for service in what can be a consuming career. Many topics were addressed: spiritual growth, emotional well-being, financial fitness, etc. During [...]

Cracked Pots 2017-05-30T14:07:31+00:00

I Ain’t Got No Home

Lately, I have felt an all-too familiar sense of exile. As a pastor, I moved around a good bit and was encouraged by my ministry supervisors not to put down roots. Now that I'm retired, divorced, and living on my own, it is easy to given in to the temptation to withdraw, to isolate myself, which leads to a vicious depressive cycle from which it's hard to escape. While it does not replace face-to-face contact, I appreciate the community I  have come to know through social media. Often, I read posts that give voice to my unexpressed feelings and help me feel less alone. The post "My Father's House,"  from Mama's Musings is a reflection on how mortality impacts our desire to "come home." Today has been a long and emotion filled day. I have spent time with two people close to me who are near the end of their [...]

I Ain’t Got No Home 2017-05-30T14:07:12+00:00

Gentle Rejoicing

This morning I met three of my objectives for the day: Get out of bed before noon.       2. Get dressed. And,        3. Go to church. Going to church was the biggest step. When I am in a depressive cycle, I want to be left alone. If I do go out, I want to blend in, not stand out. Some times I am able to pull this off, to mask my symptoms, to grin and bear it. This was not one of those times. Many people came up to me and asked how I was doing. The best response, if I don't want to stand out, is to follow the script: “How are you?” “I'm fine, thanks. And you?” “Okay.” Many times I have been able to recite the anticipated response and the play goes on as directed. This morning, though, I couldn't bring myself [...]

Gentle Rejoicing 2017-05-30T14:04:57+00:00