It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Every year in Holland, Michigan is the Tulip Festival. I am not a flower guy, but it seemed like a really good idea for Marsha. Lots of color, people moving around, lots of activity. Very good for someone who has suffered a couple of strokes. So, we made plans to drive up. Just north of Holland is Muskegon, Michigan. There you can board a fast lake ferry and cross Lake Michigan to Milwaukee, Wisconsin. The trip takes two and a half hours. (This was my part of the trip. I am not a flower guy, but I am a water guy.) So, the plan was to drive up on Monday, spend the night, board the ferry on Tuesday morning and go to Milwaukee, spend the night, board the ferry and cross back on Wednesday to Michigan, spend the night and go to the Tulip Festival on Thursday and return home on Friday. Seemed like a good idea.

The trip up on Monday was made on the roughest paved roads I have ever been on. But you allow for construction when you travel in areas that have rough winters. The motel was fine. On Tuesday the boat crossing was a lot of fun and the motel in Milwaukee was OK. Then, however, it all began to unravel.

I got Marsha situated in her room and then, suddenly, she announced she was going down. I grabbed her, but there was no way I could hold her dead weight. All I was able to do was let her down softly. She couldn't move her legs and I, fearing another stroke, called 911. She was not happy about that, but she couldn't move. EMTs got there quickly and transported her to the nearest hospital. It was just after dark and diving the car to the hospital was an experience. I don't see well at night and I was in a strange city. I kept thinking how I was going to explain to our son how I managed to misplace his mother in Milwaukee. In the end I arrived at the hospital where I sat with her all night, first in the ER lobby and then in an ER room. They finally determined it was not a stroke. She was dehydrated and had an infection. She was released just before daylight (so another trip in a strange city in the dark) and we managed to get two hours of sleep before we needed to get back to the dock for the ferry. I dozed most of the crossing and when we got back to the Michigan motel, we were both so tired we could do nothing. 

The star of the trip, though, was to be the Tulip Festival. Up on Thursday and in the car. And it began to pour rain. Not a sprinkle. Not a drizzle. A Noah's ark rain. We drove around Holland a bit, but Marsha didn't want to get out and neither did I. So, we left the next morning for Ohio on a beautiful day. The whole trip seemed like a bust. When I talked to my son to tell him of our misadventures, he said, "You know, you could have saved a lot of money by staying in Ohio and getting rained on and taking Mom to the hospital." Smart aleck.

However, I was struck by something during the trip. Milwaukee is a rough town, kind of run down. I am sure there are nice areas, but I have been there twice now and have not seen those areas. The hospital they took Marsha to is a city hospital, and they tend to be burdened down with indigent cases. We waited in the lobby a long while. Some of the people there were in withdrawal because they hadn't gotten their fix for the night. Some were falling down drunk. Some were there just to be able to be inside for the night. People everywhere. People with failing lives, just wanting their next bottle or injection or pill. As I watched all of this misery around me, it occurred to me that they didn't even know they were in misery. They were just living life as usual.

Then I took a long look at the professionals who were handling these cases. Competent nurses and aides, smart young people checking folks in, police officers and security personnel treating everyone with respect and two or three young doctors going from one to the next. All of the professionals and all the patients were in a ten year range of each other. Marsha and I were the oldest people there. As I looked around, I wondered what the difference was among these people.

Society will tell you it is white privilege. The poor were slaves, after all, held down by their white masters. Except, the professionals were about evenly split between white and black. Others would say that the economic divide keeps the poor poorer and the rich richer, but that doesn't explain it, either. Some would say it was bad parenting, but we all know some who have good children and then a troubled child. Some would say it came down to gender confusion, but that is just the current, nonsense cause of the day. 

So, what is the reason?

I don't really know. Some were driven to do well, some just were content to fail. I suppose it comes down to attitude, but how is a good attitude generated? What makes one look to the future and another look for the pleasure of the moment. The desire to have a reason to live?

There can be a lot of things that triggers a good response. But I see life differently from the world. I would love to introduce you to this doctor I know, two veterinarians, several nurses, teachers, a football coach, a lawyer, a few dynamite homemakers, a couple who have gone out and started their own businesses, a Marine, one who is a successful relator, several tool and die makers, a man who can make works of art with bricks and his brother who is a master carpenter and several others who are successful in their own fields. People who were in a church I pastored? Yes, sort of. Kids in my youth groups who were taught to love and respect the Word of God. And almost all of those kids will be in church somewhere this Sunday.

Proverbs 22:6 "Raise up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it." The world would scoff, but I speak from my own experience.

Be faithful.

I miss pastoring a church. I really do. And I hope to never pastor a church again.

Uh....what?

It is true. 

Consider your typical church. People in leadership positions who, with the best of intentions, feel a church needs to adhere to their ideals. The businessperson feels the church needs to be run like a business. The politically minded person feels the church needs to be run like a political endeavor along political party lines. Younger folks feel the church should follow their ideals and concerns and the older folks should be quiet and let the future happen while the older folks feel like the church should follow their ideals and the younger folks should be quiet and respectful. In any church situations there are tidal forces at work all the time. And the typical way a congregation handles these differences is to form a committee. Then, of course, there are the bullies who try to intimidate and the schemers who try to go behind everyone's back to get what they want.

So, what is the pastor's job? Almost any church will say that the pastor's job is to see to the Spiritual needs of the church. The congregation will handle the rest. But that doesn't work. The pastor is drawn into every controversy. People come to the pastor to see what he (or she, as the case may be) thinks about the 'problem.' The music is too loud so could you tone it down? The church is to dim (or to bright) so could you fix it? The grass needs cut, don't you think? The curtains in the restrooms are tacky, so we need a committee. The pastor goes into his first church feeling he is going to be the Spiritual leader and instead finds he is an administrator. And with all of this, he has to be careful not to overstep his bounds. This is why most pastors don't make it five years.

So, while I miss pastoring a church, I hope to never pastor a church again. (Notice I didn't say I will never pastor a church again. After dealing with the Lord for half a century I have come to see that if I say 'never,' He will create a situation where 'never' becomes a necessity.) However, I am pastoring right now, just not a church. 

Janet broke her arm playing with the granddaughter. Patty has personal issues and needs to be comforted. Rosa had some serious surgery and is struggling to bounce back. Bert is conflicted. Neil is trying to maintain his cool around silly people. Suzy is working hard to do her job in spite of her cancer. These are people who live in my building. I lead a weekly worship service. Some of these mentioned come, some don't. But I consider them all a congregation. As yet, no one has refused prayer. Even the lady who rejects Christianity in favor of a reincarnation theology, allowed several of us to gather around her in prayer when her husband died. I have been in the ministry almost forty nine years, and I am finally getting to minister 100% of the time.

For me, the ministry has been an awesome privilege. I have help people, I have impacted people and I have made some really close friends. But the responsibility and the juggling act often takes away the enjoyment. But here, now, it is different. I am having fun!