This time last year, the broken road of disillusionment, regret, and unanswered prayers was turning a corner. It seemed as if God had been working in my life all along to take me where He wanted me to be: Wisconsin. I had a Gold Stamp of Approval on my dreams and my heart’s longing to be a husband to the love of my life, and to be involved in ministry at her side. When the turning-of-a-corner became a Dead End, when that old road of disillusionment, regret, and unanswered prayers continued unbroken, it came as a blatant and divine “No” to my dreams.
My dream of being the husband to the love of my life?
I wasn’t good enough, so God took her away from me.
My dream of being involved in ministry?
I wasn’t good enough, so God sent Rejection my way.
The Wisconsinite’s rejection of me, coupled with the unsurprising rejections from countless churches, tore deep inside me when I hardly had the strength to keep going. “It’s just not a good fit.” When you hear those words from churches and people you love over and over, they start to eat at you, they really do. The fact that she is happily with someone else and feeling fulfilled in ministry while I beat myself senseless trying to expunge her face, our memories, and my love for her from my heart only intensifies the haunting whispers that God’s plan for my life—whatever that may be—has been annulled.
As far as ministry goes, the invariable rejection has lifted a banner of doubt: “If this is what God desires of me, then why this? and why that?” For as long as I’ve been a Christian, I’ve felt in the marrow of my bones a calling to ministry. All my life people have confirmed this desire, affirming my vocation. I’ve even had strangers come up to me and say, “This may be weird to you, but I feel like God is telling me to tell you that He intends that you proclaim His message.” So many people have told me, upon hearing me preach or teach, “You were born for this.” I never feel more alive, more fulfilled, than when I am preaching from a pulpit or expounding on the scriptures. The certainty I felt is what led me to C.C.U. It wasn’t a matter of scientific or mathematical certainty; rather, it was more like the feeling you have when you know that you are loved. And the more I pray, the more I feel this calling fighting against the rejection and doubt.
The events of the past year—the breaking of a five-year dream, rejection by the woman I loved, the disillusionment in being “passed over” both by her and by churches for Someone Better—has cast a shadow over my convictions. It’s been so damned difficult not to interpret these painful rejections and broken dreams as a rejection by God, a jettisoning of His plans for my life. Spiritually, I haven’t handled things well: I’ve wandered here-&-there, I’ve done things I ought not to have done, and I’ve accumulated some regrets. I’m inspired by the words of a former mentor: “You cannot live life without regrets. But in Christ, you can live your life without being ruled by your regrets.”
I keep coming back to the story of the Prodigal Son. The younger son runs off, makes a mess of things, and He wants to return home. He knows he isn’t worthy of that—he’s done some awful things, he’s marred his family’s name, he’s brought disgrace on his household, and he’s become as unclean and impure as ratty swine—so he tells himself that maybe, just maybe, he will be shown mercy and be allowed to live on the family grounds as a household slave. The amazing (a better word would be gracious) thing is that his father meets him halfway, restores him to his rightful place, and throws a party. Here’s a portrait of God’s embracing of wayward prodigals like myself. The doubt, the regret, the shame—in spite of all this, I know that if God intends me to be in ministry, He will see it through and put me where He wants me to be. All I can do is trust Him when none of it makes sense and hope that in some way He will make something of me and something of my life.
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