Since I keep a journal here on Rememorandom, I've got something very important to ramble on about.
Recall, earlier this year I was selected by the church body to become a deacon. I was humbled and after prayerful consideration, I accepted. The next step was to be tested, so to speak. Had to go to to a room filled with the current deacons and be questioned about my faith, doctrinal issues, those sorts of things. I wasn't expecting the interrogation I got, especially not the vitriol I received. After the whole fiasco, I was found to be lacking the spiritual maturity they required and was rejected. (To be fair, 8/12 of the men voted in my favor, though this majority did not meet the qualifications set in the church's bylaws.)
To be honest, I was hurt and angry. I was judgmental. I was disappointed. I was grieved. In my mind, I was more qualified to be a deacon than several of the men sitting in that room. I desired to impact the world, to impact the church, to love on people, to help, to go, to serve. These were the things that I didn't see the deacons doing. How dare they deny me? I contented myself saying that you didn't have to be a deacon to serve and that God was in control.
I've spent the last six months growing in leaps and bounds in my faith. My reliance on God has increased tenfold. My devotion to reading and studying the Word has grown exponentially. I've changed in my opinions on the dividing topics, growing even more firm in my beliefs about them. I'm convinced that the bible speaks very clearly and that their opinions are based on more than just the bible. But through all of my growth I've also layered myself in cynicism. My ability to trust has wavered. My faith in my local church has waned to non-existent. My righteous anger has simmered.
The sad thing is that this is so uncharacteristic of me that it's not funny. I'm an extremely happy optimist. I believe in the goodness of people to a point well past logic and reason. I'm not naive, I'm too much a Realist for that, but I'm hopeful. And yet, over these last few months, I've changed my outlook, and I hate it. I'm disappointed with myself and my scorn. I realize that I'm wanting people to be held to a higher standard when I myself am regressing. I'm expecting maturity from a group of people that have had very little rearing. Many are on the milk still, so to speak, and my expectations from them are unrealistic.
So I've resolved myself to do better. To think kinder. To love more. To pour myself out until I'm drained dry. If I'm wanting change, then let it be seen in me.
Flash forward to last night. Skipping all the details, I was selected to serve on the pastor search committee, and last night was my first meeting. (My church has been without a senior pastor for a long time now and tension is very high within the church. Perhaps this is part of the reason why there have been so many problems.) I received a packet of information, and among it was a sheet detailing the qualifications for its members. I inwardly chuckled at the first two: must be spiritually mature and must be respected by the church to be competent and responsible.
The irony of being qualified to select the next pastor for the church and yet being unqualified to be a deacon of said church is more than a little amusing.
So what's the point? The point is that I'm learning to rely on God more, to look to Him more, and to trust in Him. On the PSC I am bound to confidentiality, something that I intend on taking very seriously. Already after one meeting there are things that I would love to talk about and get off my shoulders, but I can't. To ramifications could be tremendous. Instead, I'll pray and look for guidance. And I also ask, dear Readers, that you hold me and my church up whenever it crosses your mind. I've a feeling that things are gonna be tough, but I've no doubts that God will reign supremely over everything.
Have a merry Christmas, everyone.