Blessing the Shepherd
It was June of 1993 when I became the shepherd of the church I serve. I was thirty-one and scared to death. Having to come up with a sermon every Sunday was atop my list of worries.
Wisdom came to me, but in her own time. Coming up with sermons was never my job. Reading the bible and listening is the bedrock of my calling.
The church was going through a hard time back in '93. The first pastor left suddenly, and about a third of the church left with him. We were young people who needed more wisdom than we had. Over the next few years we met in a bar, a school, and in another church on Saturday nights.
People came and went. Sometimes we wondered if the church was going to survive.
Wisdom came to us, but in her own time. Survival was never our responsibility. Ours is to love each other and follow faithfully in the way of Christ.
And so ten years slipped by in a blur of living and loving, hurting and rejoicing. We built a little stone church in the woods together. Sermons came and went, as did some people. I don’t remember the sermons, but the faces are forever in my mind.
Ten years. One quarter of my life.
We aren't exactly the most organized bunch, and I keep the calendar, which is hilarious since I have trouble remembering what I'm supposed to do this week. I didn't expect anyone to know about the anniversary, and that was okay. I've been marking this moment in my own ways. I’ve been thoughtful these past months. I’ve been writing. I started a blog. I’ve been shedding my skin and finding something new underneath.
Yesterday at church I received a huge surprise. My friends DID remember the date and surprised me with a gentle and loving recognition of these ten years. My wife J and I were given a housewarming gift and, hold on, AN ALBUM FULL OF LOVE LETTERS FROM MY FRIENDS AT CHURCH. There is no way to overstate a gift like that.
I love these people who are church with me. They love me too. I knew that, but it's nice to be told sometimes.
I have given them power over me, the power to bless or curse. Yesterday they stretched out their hands and blessed me. I did not have to grab these angels and demand my blessing, though, like Jacob, I will hold onto them. This blessing was given GRACEfully, without my asking.
As worship ended, they turned everything around. I close every service with my hands outstretched, facing the congregation, pronouncing the classic blessing from Deuteronomy. Yesterday the whole church spoke that blessing in unison, directing the words to the front where I stood silent.
The Lord bless you and keep you.
The Lord make His face to shine upon you, and be gracious to you.
The Lord lift up His countenance upon you and bring you peace.
I intend to hold fast to their words and to them. I mean to keep this blessing forever.
12:02:14 PM 
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