Luke 15:11-32

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Incredibly Blessed and Highly Favored

I'm so frustrated I could scream. I did scream, actually.

Heath and I are trying incredibly hard to buy a house in Conway in order to be closer to my church. I love my church, and things are happening. But I currently live 40 miles away. This makes things difficult. I can't get there quickly when someone needs a shoulder, and I feel like I'm moving every time I go to/from church. My people also feel the strain, I'm sure. I feel like they're hesitant to call me when they'd really like for me to come because they feel bad about me driving so far. I don't mind really, but it would be soooooo much better if I lived closer. Therefore, we made a decision to buy a house in Conway. This house is perfect, we think. It's the right size, has the right amount of land for our liking, and it's in a great area. Perfect. The bank even thought so too...initially. We were pre-approved in 3 minutes flat. We made the offer. The seller accepted the offer. And the bank got to work.

That's when it all started. The bank doesn't seem to like clergy pay. Clergy are in that weird sort of classification where I get a W-2 and am viewed as a regular employee...except for the IRS. Clergy still have to pay self-employment tax. Yes...we still have to pay self-employment tax. It's a mess. It's unfair. And I honestly don't know why. Therefore, the bank still sees me as self-employed. I'm not. I'm employed by the church, but the bank doesn't see it that way. You can technically still use self-employment income on a mortgage loan, but you have to have 2 years worth of steady income to prove that you're stable, I guess.

This pastorate isn't my first rodeo. In all actuality, Heath and I have been in ministry since 2004. We only took a break from full-time ministry in 2012-2015. But even during that time, we filled pulpits for churches without pastors. So I started making my case.

This morning. I started pulling out taxes from 2004. Yes, I know I can't believe it either. We still have our tax returns from 2004. I even commented to Heath a couple of weeks ago that maybe it was time to start shredding some paper. I'm glad I didn't. Because now I need to make a case that I've been a pastor before. Again, this isn't my first rodeo. My boots aren't new, and my jeans show wear.

As I started looking through my tax returns, I started pulling out W-2s from every year. And then when I looked over at my stack, something hit me in the face. God has used me...ME of all people for 12 years now in ministry. I can't believe it. And I don't understand why He would. Of all the people on the earth, why would He choose me? Why would He choose to use a shy, timid, unsure, person that's lacking in so many important skills?

I don't know the answer to any of these. But I am sure that He has used me. Why do I keep at it? I've actually had to explain to the bank why some years there's a loss reported on our taxes due to the fact that expenses were higher than the pay. I'm sure they think it's either idiotic or deceptive. It makes no sense to anyone looking on. And it really doesn't make that much sense to me either...if you're looking at man's economy.

But if you view things through God's economy, it makes total sense. The fulfillment I get in knowing that I'm walking in the center of the Lord's will is payment enough. When God called me, I knew what I was signing up for. I knew that I would never be rich by man's standards. But oh how blessed I am when I realize that I am God's instrument and mouthpiece. How fulfilling it is when someone asks me to show them how to study the Word of God. How thrilling it is to get to be the one to baptized new souls saved in the Kingdom. How awesome it is when someone comes back and quotes to me part of a sermon that impacted how they live. How blessed I am to be able to proclaim the Word of the Lord. And therefore, I must be favored of God.

What other explanation is there? God is good, and I'll never know why He chooses to bless me so. But I'll take it.

Taste of Home

The smell, taste, feel, and texture of a peach remind me of home. I ate one this morning, and the fuzzy skin on my lips brought tears to my eyes. In fact, I tell everyone that even the peaches and cream shake from Chick-Fil-A is Rosebloom in a cup. Everytime I cut open a watermelon too, the smell taste me back to childhood, and I can instantly feel a box fan blowing warm air on my legs. Something about those 2 smells makes me homesick for Mississippi in the summer. Summertime is the hardest. Sometimes I get so homesick, I feel physically ill.

But when I start to think about it, I don't really miss home so much. Things have changed, and I know it. What I really miss...are those days gone by. It's easy to start to get homesick when I think of how easy and innocent life used to be. Before illnesses...before I knew about conflict...before I realized that we are in a world at war. Those days are gone, and I'll never get them back. The memories are forever though, and I pray they never fade.

It's a big pill for me to swallow...knowing that things will never be the same again. But I have to be able to walk the walk that I've been preaching for months to my people. Isaiah 43 speaks of the "new thing." The children of Israel had been redeemed from slavery in Egypt, but now they were in exile. God allows them to remember all that He has done for them and the wonderful ways that He had provided for them. And now in 43:18-19 he says, "Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland."  In other words, "this is nothing compared to what I am going to do."

My childhood was wonderful, and I wouldn't trade it for anything. I enjoyed growing up, and now that I'm an adult, I appreciate all of the life lessons learned the hard way. I love that I was taught to work hard for everything that we have and to be independent and productive and to contribute to the Kingdom of God. But too many times, people look at their past a little too longingly. It's like walking forward while looking behind you.  You miss what's ahead!

I can appreciate the past, but I can also look forward to the future with confidence because God is doing a "new thing." I don't know what it is, yet, but I'm excited to see.

Blessed Rest

Today, my husband and children let me sleep...and it's Friday. For me, Friday is usually a crunch day. Sunday is Mother's Day, but for me, it's the biggest day of the week. As a pastor, I work 12+ hours on Sunday, so Mother's Day will have to be celebrated...today.

Today, I got up at 6:00 a.m., because I was getting one text message after another. A church member had been asking for prayer in a group text, and much to my delight, he had reported during the night that he had been healed. Praise God! I've been preaching on prayer for the last 6 weeks, and I know that God is moving. I see it. It's tangible, and I see a shift in the verbiage used when my people are talking about the circumstances in their lives and in the church. I'm so thankful, but I'm so tired.

As an introvert, I need time to decompress. This week was abnormally very busy with conferences, meetings, counseling sessions, an annual report that's due, and an unexpected sermon assignment thrown into the usual mix. And did I mention, that it's Friday, and I'm tired. When I delightfully (not being sarcastic here) at 6:00 a.m. to the sound of the group collectively praising God, I was excited to see yet again, the power of Christ in prayer. He is moving in the lives of my people. And I'm so glad.

But I'm tired. I went back to bed after my husband left for work at 8:00, and I slept until 10:30. It was awesome! I smiled when I woke.

My introverted tendencies crave for me to spend time decompressing. All of the activity this week hasn't made me physically tired, amazingly. I'm physically ready to run a few miles. But inwardly, I need to sleep. I need to decompress. I need to spend time with Jesus, not just praying for the needs of my church body, but to seek the face of the one that loves me most. He is my rest, my peace, my source of comfort. But I don't just turn to him for something. I gaze upon the face of my Savior because HE is my rest.

The fact that the Holy Spirit lives in me gives me the strength and the desire to carry on. But turning my eyes upon Him in prayer gives me life. He is my life.

Sleep is blessed. But his presence is rest.

They Call Me Pastor

Tomorrow morning, I will preach my very first sermon as Pastor of Harvest Church of the Nazarene. I can't even believe myself as I type these words. For the last 3 ½ years, Heath and I have only served in interim and pulpit-supply type roles. Most of the time, we have been really good laymen, and it's sort of surreal in a way to be back in the office.

I didn't come to this decision lightly. When I started as interim at this church back in October, my mind was made up that I wasn't looking to pastor again. In fact, repeatedly, the subject came up about me being their pastor, and even the District Superintendent called to ask my thoughts about a possible permanent relationship. I turned all of them down flat.

I mean, honestly, it just didn't make sense. This wasn't on my radar at all. I didn't think my family was in a position yet to approach the subject of entering full-time ministry again, and I didn't even think I was a good fit for Harvest. They're great people. And that's just the problem. They're grounded, solid, mature Christians, and I've never started with a group of people this strong. Where could I take them? And then, there's the culture thing. I'm just a country-girl from a little community in Mississippi that nobody's ever heard of. We don't even have our own zip code. I'm naively old-fashioned on a lot of things, and I just felt like they needed somebody...smarter, more knowledgeable about leadership, more trendy on the ways that churches are nowadays.

And then I started reading, and searching, and praying. And as the months passed on, the door just was left open. They interviewed several people, and they even liked them. But each time, something happened, and the door was shut with those people. But with me, it just stayed open. Still, I was hesitant and scared. I've never pastored without Heath, and I'm...well...a woman.

Nevertheless, I agreed to an interview, and in the interview, the board voted unanimously to recommend me to the congregation for a church vote. And at some point, "I accept the nomination," escaped my lips. Excitedly, they asked, "What do we call you?" And it was decided that they would call me, "Pastor Susan." Until that point, I didn't realize how much I'd missed that title. Pastor.

Oh, how I love these people. From the day that the Lord and I settled it that I was willing, and He is able, my heart has been bonded to them. I love them. I pray for them. I believe in them. My desire is for them to succeed at living up to their name of reaping the Harvest. And with all my heart, I promise to be the leader that God desires for me to be.

How did this happen? And what have I done? These are both questions that have crowded my mind the last few weeks as I have not-so-patiently waited to start my new role. Since my heart has been changed, my mind wasn't so quick to respond, and the enemy has plagued me with inadequate thoughts once again. But I know what God has done in my heart. And I know the steps He has taken to bring Harvest and me to the point where we are.

Without me asking, God has graciously put three households in my presence this week that Heath and I had the privilege of pastoring in the past. As we have visited with each family, my thoughts flood back to the past and the roads we walked with each of them. Their stories were not always pretty or easy, but it was my honor to walk beside them, encouraging them and pointing their attention to the Father. Look at how God encourages and reminds of how He has and can use me again!

And I'm thankful. I'm grateful. And I'm excited.

He never has failed me. To God be the Glory!