#thefirstsnow

Winter has come a little early this year with a five-inch snowfall Sunday night and Monday morning. Chloe's sick, so she wasn't able to go build snowmen or make snow angels. Croup is what she's got, and I don't know anything about it, except that it's a children's sickness. She's been pumped full of steroids and should be better by Thursday.

The elders at Mayhill Church of Christ called me. The congregational meeting didn't make any headway. The younger folk at the church remain adamant that they want Terry to be the preacher; Terry remains adamant that he doesn't want to be the preacher; and the elders remain adamant that they won't consider him for the position. The younger folk are making a stand by refusing to vote for anyone but him, and he isn't even on the so-called ballot.

This is why churches suck.

The "head elder" said that he would definitely give me a good recommendation for my ongoing ministry search. "You're a fantastic preacher, and you're the candidate we want." There's going to be a second congregational meeting this Sunday. "We're going to do some serious work addressing the concerns with the younger folk, and hopefully we'll make some headway." They're still wanting me to come preach there full-time, but it depends on how stubborn the younger folk will be. It's frustrating to have gotten so close and to have a church coup thrown in my face. All other possible leads are extinguished. "He's a better fit," is what I've been hearing like a mantra in my emails with the other churches I've interviewed at. It's encouraging, at least, to know that at least one leadership has chosen me. I'm going to keep looking for ministry positions; hopefully this prayer will be answered. You'd think that if you were called to ministry, God would open doors rather than shut them. Perhaps we assume too much.