Abiding > Calling

I currently have two houses listed, each of whom are being sold by friends of mine who are going through, or have recently gone through, a divorce.  They came to me because they can trust me, having confidence in our shared experience.  If I want to live a life in which I’m serving other people, these are the best moments for me, professionally speaking.  In fact, last year, I sold a house for a ministry colleague with whom I’d shared a similar ministry path.  When I met with him and his ex-wife-to-be, explaining how we could get the house sold and split the proceeds, he thanked me while blinking away tears.  He was grateful for my being able to help him what needed to be done and, most importantly, for being able to stand with him in all the hurt and shame of his divorce.

The flip side looks like the time I was leading a buyer couple into the basement of a nice home in a nice neighborhood and suddenly being hit by a wave of self-pity, “this isn’t what I signed up for, this isn’t why I went to college and seminary.”  It’s not, but it’s where I currently find myself.

As I asked in an earlier post, what happens to the “calling” I believe I had? 
Maybe that question needs to be turned inside-out.  What if I was never “called” into full-time ministry at all?  What if no one is “called” in that way?  I’ll admit, this is a new way of thinking for me, possibly a new way of sorting through the past 25 years.  The idea came from a sermon I recently heard, when I just so happened to be worshiping with my former church because the daughter of the above-mentioned friend was being baptized.  In the midst of a sermon on John 15:1-8, the “I am the vine, you are the branches.  Remain in me and you will produce much fruit” passage, Tim Keel had the following to say.

“How does God’s grace get worked out among us?  By abiding.  I read something from Oswald Chambers this week, who said the following, ‘A Christian worker is someone who perpetually looks in the face of God and then goes forth to talk to people.’  It’s not complex.  We get to know the one we love and it overflows into our lives…. Trees aren’t trying to produce fruit.  Fruit is the natural overflow, the byproduct of an organism in right relationship to its environment.  A tree’s not trying to make fruit happen, a tree can’t stop fruit from happening.  Fruit is the natural overflow of what a tree is created to do.  When we abide in Jesus, fruitfulness is the result of his life getting lived through us.

[In talking often to church leaders, I tell them] the most acceptable form of idolatry in the church is ministry.  People think you’re called to ministry.  You’re not.  You’re called to Jesus.  And to abide in Jesus.  And to help create communities of people who are abiding in Jesus.  Ministry is the overflow of a community that is learning together how to abide and remain in Jesus and to allow God to prune them, together, in their life in Jesus.”

Mind blown. 
Past and future possibly re-interpreted and re-imagined. 

It wasn’t just me, either.  Right after the benediction, I talked with several other members of the “former pastors club” who said that line also took them for a loop. 

It clearly happened.  I certainly served God in the capacity of a pastor for a season in my life.  It was good, rewarding and positive.  While there are certainly things I’d do differently, including some decisions and approaches that now make me cringe, I don’t regret having served in that capacity.

Back then, I had  a much more narrowly defined way of doing ministry.  Things are more wide-open now.  As I now, as then, stay connected to Jesus I'm making an intentional effort to be open to whatever opportunities come my way, opportunities that are almost certainly going to exist outside of any formal structure. 

For example, I was talking on the phone with the twice mentioned seller client and friend when I had the sense that I needed to pray with him.  After I’d finished, he informed me I’d made him cry (I guess I do that to people?) and that he’d needed the encouragement.  The next day, he thanked me yet again for praying for him. 

A similar thing happened just the other day, while helping with Free Hot Soup Johnson County.  After a friend of mine, who has dedicated so much of her life to serving the poor, homeless and addicted shared some struggles she was facing, I sent her a note to say I was praying for her and to remind her that her actions convey to others the love of Jesus. 

While there are some who need to do so, at this stage in my life, I don’t sense the need to hold any type of official church position.  I simply need to stay connected to Jesus and responsive to the opportunities that come my way.

Disciplines for 2018

This post first began writing itself in the far corners of my mind back on Friday, Dec 29th. A pastoral couple, clients of mine, got me into a smaller group meeting with Francis Chan.  If you're familiar with Francis Chan's speaking and writing, what I'm about to share won't be surprising, but in the middle of his talk, something lit up inside of me.  I became fully aware of just how long I'd been coasting, how atrophied I'd become in allowing our present relationship to be based upon a trust in God's unconditional love (not to downplay that realization, mind you) and a somewhat distant memory of intimacy.  It was like a pilot light being lit again in a cold and dark basement; the subtle rush of that woosh and the flicker of the small flame betraying the intensity of the heat about to start emanating from a newly renewed source of power.

Although, to be chronologically accurate, it might be better to describe that afternoon as the final adrenaline kick to a season of renewal that had gotten off to a half-hearted start a few months earlier.  Sometime back in November, I started spending about 30 minutes each morning practicing a version of the disciplines laid out in the book, Miracle Morning.   Here's a brief overview of that morning routine:
1) 5-15 minutes in silent prayer and meditation.  Sitting in meditative pose while repeating breathe prayers; "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the Living God, have mercy on me, a sinner" or "I breath in Your love, I breath out Your peace."  A focus on God's living presence, a release of tension and worries or as the author described the practice of mediation, "a vacation from your problems."
2) Five minutes of journaling what I'm thankful for and how God has recently used me to serve the Kingdom.  In one of those "coincidences" that seem to happen when I'm actively pursuing God, I heard this sermon on how thankfulness rewires your brain just as I started this new discipline.
3) Five minutes of positive visualization.  I have to say, I still struggle with this.  Again, maybe a coincidence, but it helped me work through some really tough and volatile sales transactions.  Did the visualization bring the positive outcomes into reality?  Likely not.  I'm certain, though that the visualization allowed me to stay positive during some highly stressful situations.
4) Affirmations.  This is the rather cliche-ish, sales-man-y discipline but, again, the positivity is helping rewire the often-prone-to-negativity brain of mine.  I've found myself, when wanting to do the opposite of my affirmations, unconsciously reciting them in my mind, which allowed me to do the kind or difficult thing, despite not feeling like doing so, i.e. turning in that final French paper or apologizing to the mother of my son for a snide remark.

The "I'm-no-longer-coasting" and "turn-your-face-toward-the-Father" discipline that was catalyzed by the talk from Francis Chan is the discipline I've been practicing in the evening, about an hour or so before going to bed.  Again -  stop me if you've heard this before - while feeling that renewed passion inside of me but not yet sure how to direct that passion, I heard another sermon from Greg Boyd about the discipline of the daily review.
I spend 15 minutes each evening reviewing my day, listing out the major events of the day and then writing out my own reaction to those events and my perception of how the Spirit was active in each of them.  I'll finish by reading a lectionary passage or two for the upcoming Sunday.
As I write this, it's dawning on me that I'm simply describing a practice of prayer, journaling and Bible reading.  Real innovative and profound, I know.  Maybe I can make it sound a bit more high-minded by describing it as a version of a daily St. Ignatius Examen.  Maybe.
What has me most excited about this, though is how Greg Boyd stated in that sermon that the journaling will provide a historical record of how God's presence has been with me through this current journey.  As  I wrote about in the shame post, it's been awhile since I've been aware of, or even wanted to be aware of, that Presence.

There's another discipline I've added at the start of the year, too and it's not really something I enjoy - swimming.  A buddy in the office, another agent, convinced me to do the sprint portion of the KC Triathlon in May.  Running a 5K after 12 miles on a bike shouldn't be too bad and will likely only take about a month's worth of training (or that's what I'm telling myself right now, as I haven't yet started training for that portion of the race) but the swimming might damn near kill me.  I've heard drowning is one of the most painful ways to die.  While I haven't yet drowned, I have swallowed about half the water in the YMCA lap pool.  Thankfully, a lifeguard took pity on me and taught me how to float on my side for a bit, with one arm extended forward, while regaining my breath.  I don't care if I finish last but I will make that swim.  It's only 500 freakin' meters.  In my current state of swimming capacity, however it might as well be 10 miles.

While waiting to find out whether or not I drown, you can get motivated by reading the daily affirmations I tell myself each morning.  Or just roll your eyes at the over-the-top positivity, as I'd do were the roles reversed...

Relationships
- I enjoy spending time with God each day, through scripture reading and mediation/prayer
- I enjoy being present, patient and emotionally available for Dawson; parenting through choices and not control
- I enjoy being in a stable, healthy, long-term relationship but for now, I’m okay with being single
- I enjoy being kind to and getting along with my ex-wife

Service
- I enjoy spending time each week serving others by helping at church and spending time with and helping feed the hungry and homeless

Enrichment
- I enjoy playing the piano consistently
- I enjoy reading consistently
- I enjoy improving my French/working on a degree
- I enjoy writing consistently

Fitness
- I enjoy lifting weights twice a week
- I enjoy weighing 193lbs
- I enjoy making good food choices
- I will swim 500 meters

Career/Money
- I enjoy earning enough money for a comfortable living
- I will sell six listings this year
- I will sell 4 million in 2018
- I will develop a rental property base as a source of income
- I enjoy making my daily contacts

Identity

I've seriously considered changing the title of this blog.  I already did so once, years ago, when I changed the title from "One Church Planter's Journey" to "One Pastor's Journey."

Can I still call myself a pastor?  What happens to the calling I believe I received as a high school kid when; a) I'm divorced and b) I'm disillusioned with church.

I don't really know, honestly.  I still have a lot of work to do to figure it out.

I know what I need to stop doing, though and that's referring to myself as a "divorced pastor."
I'm not sure where or if the pastoral label/identity means anything but I for sure need to stop referring to myself as a "divorced dude."  Well, except for on dating sites, so the potential matches don't think I'm hiding that I'm married, as I've heard happens...

I've had two people get up in my face and challenge my use of the label "divorced pastor." One time was from the pastoral couple I mentioned in the "Shame" post, whom have both gone through a divorce themselves, though it was before they became Christ-followers and went into pastoral ministry.  I was sitting at an inspection with them, a couple of weeks ago, sharing more about my own journey.  Somewhere in that conversation, I referred to myself as a "divorced pastor" in a rather sheepish or even shameful way.  The husband got in my face a bit (in a gentle way, of course) and stated, "Stop referring to yourself as a 'divorced pastor.'  That's not the summation of who you are.  God has so much more for you than that."  I believe him, though I don't know what that is yet.

The other time was during a conversation with an intuitive, wise, direct and smart lady I dated for a short time.  Again, somewhere in the conversation, I referred to myself as a "divorced pastor."  The fact that I was called out for that twice makes me think I've done it a lot of other times but the other person simply let it slide.  She also got in my face, "Donnie, that's not your story.  Maybe you'll never stand behind a pulpit again (which I don't believe I ever will, at least not as a permanent role) but God still speaks through you.  I can still see 'the anointing' on you (did I mention she's Pentecostal?).
She challenged me to add to my morning list of things for which I'm thankful a list of ways I've served the Kingdom.  No act is too small to write down; helping a homeless guy get connected to some housing, helping with kids church on Sunday morning, the "sermon" my boss asked me to re-tell in a training meeting (a little discourse on how "perfect love casts out fear").  I've been doing that.  It's a great reminder each day, both of what God has allowed me to do and when I'm starting to slack off a bit.

Coincidentally, or maybe not, both of these people who got up in my face are a part of the same church.

A lot of my identity as a "preacher" or "pastor" came from my upbringing.  My dad was, admittedly, a bit disappointed that I didn't share his passion for farming.  As a self-centered kid, I didn't think about how my lack of interest in farming would hurt my dad.  As a dad myself, now I realize I was hurtful to him.  In the middle of High School, though I sensed a call into full-time ministry.  For a Miller, the next best thing to being a farmer is to be a pastor.  My identity or self-esteem began to be built up around the pride my dad (and even my Grandma Miller or Grandpa Tyler) beamed on their faces every time they were in the congregation while I was preaching.

Obviously, I didn't make it in pastoral ministry.  I failed at the two things the most important to my dad; church and marriage.  Ironically, I think my dad and I have never been closer.  I think the breaking down of these false identities has helped us to connect on a simple, yet profound, father-son level.

That pastoral identity however, was also pumped up by my home church.  Whenever I was visiting, I usually did something up front, whether that was leading in prayer or actually preaching a sermon.  Of course, this has stopped as I've worked myself out of a ministry position.  I tried different non-traditional ministries until I eventually just turned in my credentials due to inactivity.  It took me about 9 months from the divorce until I had the guts to attend my home church while visiting my family.

I shouldn't have been surprised by the response I received; grace, acceptance and a lot of hugs.
I talked with my parents' pastor after worship and told him how embarrassed I was to show my face and how hard it was to visit.  He simply hugged me and said I'd always be a kid of that church and I was always welcome.

Why did I believe those lies?

When dating N, I talked with her a lot about how hard it was for me to face former congregation members after the divorce.  Being Catholic herself, she didn't really understand this Protestant expectation that the pastoral family be a model of everything godly, including having a strong marriage.  She kept telling me, "you don't have anything to be sorry for.  You didn't owe anyone an apology or anything else."
That was hard for me to accept, though.  So I've been slowly going on what I jokingly call my "apology tour."  Or maybe "forgiveness tour" is a better label.  Whenever I meet with former congregation members, I talk through the divorce and apologize for the pain that it likely caused them.  Well, not "likely" caused them because the news of Erin and my divorce hurt a lot of people. 
What I've found though, is that the hurt former congregation members or ministry partners were felling was hurt for us and not from us.

Which just goes to show that my identity is so much more than any type of ministry position. Ultimately, I'm just a kid.  That's all I'll ever be.  My dad's kid, yes but more importantly, a loved child of my Heavenly Father.

As I learned from Breakthrough almost three years ago, "I'm okay.  I'm just a kid and that's okay."

Back in Kansas City

Months.  I’ve been meaning to write this blog post for months.  We’ve been back in Kansas City since mid-December, living one block north of Independence Avenue and just around the corner from Grace Church of the Nazarene.  I’ve written this blog post many times in my head and even twice on paper but it’s past time to actually post this update.  I’ll give an update on a few different areas to show what life has been like since moving back to Kansas City, USA.

Our Neighborhood
We’re now living in a hundred plus year old house in the “Historic Northeast,” as residents proudly refer to our neighborhood.  It’s a fascinatingly diverse neighborhood.  The houses range from castle-like mansions to boarded up drug houses.  When people immigrate to Kansas City, they usually end up in the Northeast.  For this reason, there are approximately 55 different nationalities represented in our neighborhood.  The different cultures are prominently on display all over the Northeast.  When I subbed at East High School, I heard five different languages being spoken in the hallway before hearing English.  While the Northeast isn’t the roughest part of the city, it still has high crime and poverty rates.  The sirens never stop.  We hear drive-by shootings quite frequently.  While subbing at Northeast Middle School, the kids fearfully told me about white vans that will abduct unsuspecting kids.  Anything left on our front porch is likely to be stolen and many corners are occupied by ladies selling their bodies.  While I’m not scared, I’m often uneasy.  I’m always however, entertained by the colorful characters on Independence Avenue.  While it might seem strange, I’m actually experiencing more culture shock living in Northeast KC than I did living in Palaiseau, France. Our old home in Gardner is about 40 minutes away by car but might as well be across the globe. 

Our Church
We are a part of Grace Church of the Nazarene.  The 90 year old Nazarene congregation is comprised of just a handful of people.  The building however, is used by five other congregations from various places from across the globe.  I enjoy surprising members of the Congolese Congregation by speaking to them in French. 

We haven’t really established a role within the congregation yet, other than being present on Sunday mornings.  I’m not sure what our role will eventually be, but for the time being, we’re trying to support the pastoral family, Joey and Tammy Condon.  Dawson has also become good friends with the Condon’s youngest son. 

We are also a part of a mentoring community from Lees Summit New Beginnings.  It’s a support and training group for people trying to live missionally in their communities.  We have the intention of doing that within our neighborhood, but we haven’t really started it yet. 

Real Estate
After several years of considering it, as a result of hearing of other pastors doing the same thing, I’ve now earned my Real Estate license and have started working out of the Reece Nichols office on the Plaza.  I’m still in the very early stages, but I have signed my first client and held my first couple of Open Houses.  I’m giving Real Estate a shot because the flexibility will allow me to earn some money while doing the ministry things I really enjoy (but don’t get paid for). 

Teaching
When I left Melcher Elementary in the fall of 2011, I had no idea I’d eventually be back in the school.  It was just one day, but when the opportunity to sub in that school arose, I took the one day job.  The day was a disaster, just like all my other days at Melcher, but it was a bit freeing to be able to go back to the place where I’d experienced my one (and hopefully only) nervous breakdown.  I also had the privilege of catching up with some of the wonderful people who work there.

My first actual day of subbing however, was at Satchel Paige Elementary (or Satchel Rage, as another teacher calls it) a school as out-of-control and impoverished as George Melcher.  In fact, I walked into the front office and saw the nameplate of the same lady who had been my principal at Melcher.  I was horrified at the coincidence of running into her on my first day back.  I fully expected her to give me a cold reception, but I actually received the opposite.  I will say though, that it’s very disappointing that they keep shuffling around such an incompetent principal.  It seems like the poor kids in these inner-city schools aren’t worthy of having someone who knows what they’re doing running their schools.  The principal has recently been fired, though, in the middle of the school year.

In fact, Erin is now doing a long-term sub at that school.  She is a second teacher in a room of 30 unruly and disrespectful third graders.  In another interesting coincidence, the teacher she’s working for is actually a Teach For America Corps Member finishing up her first year.  Erin says she does a great job controlling the class, which allows Erin the opportunity to model skills in giving lessons.  The current principal has come out of retirement to lead the school and appears to be doing a great job.  A good principal really can turn around a chaotic school, as evidenced by another rough school in the district, King-Weeks Elementary.

As I’ve subbed around the KC area (several different districts) I’ve been able to observe first-hand all the different schools in the area; high schools, alternative schools, middle schools and elementary schools.  Center School District is, by far, the best public school district in the city.  It’s so great to see poor African-American kids being able to benefit from a good school district.  It sure would be nice if the other districts could follow Central’s example. 

I’ve also had the chance to catch up with former Melcher teachers who are at different schools in the district.  It’s helped me heal some of those old wounds.  Yes, that experience still kind of stings.  What also still strikes a discordant note every time I experience it is seeing the line of kids entering their schools through  a metal detector.   I understand the need, but if you stop and think about how much schools and prisons resemble each other, it’s quite disturbing.  I’ve also been able to catch up with Melcher kids who are now 8^th graders scattered across the district.  I’ll eventually write a full post on what that’s been like. 

Our Future
I’m not sure how everything will develop with this new experience of living in inner-city Kansas City.  We’ve both had some good opportunities come our way and it’s just a matter of sifting through them.  We haven’t started doing much ministry or community involvement yet, but things are starting to open up.  We’re just finishing the process of getting our feet underneath us, as we’ve just landed back in the US, but we’re also beginning to look toward the future.  It should be an interesting journey.