I had this idea that making a crockpot dish affectionately called "Kitchen Sink Chicken" would be symbolic of what it's like to build and sustain community--using all the resources in "the fridge"--all the resources that the community has to offer--to feed and nourish each other. However, as I get deeper into this journey, I'm realizing how naive and superficial that can be at times. As a leader in ministry (clergy or otherwise), this road can be very lonely. You can invest a lot of energy in building a community that you will inevitably be left on the outside of. In my ministerial experiences, we build community with the expectation of always being able to be an integral part of the social life of that community; yet, I'm learning more and more, that as the community grows and the responsibility of being a minister deepens, the ability to participate in the social life of the community that feeds and nourishes diminishes. It's almost as if you're making this Kitchen Sink Chicken but you've taken a vow to always be the last one to eat, or to forgo eating all together. This is a lonely road and I wasn't quite prepared to be this 'hungry" all the time.
[ Read "Way to Freedom" HERE ] I had a conversation with myself last night, re-imagining a previous conversation I had with God about 2 years ago. God was like, "I'm gonna sit here with my arms wide open, while you seek refuge in people and things that were not meant to shelter you, and I'll wait patiently for you to come back home to me." That moment with God 2 years ago was the beginning of my real relationship with God and my relationship with my purpose(s). As I watched things fall into place, in awe of the matchless moves of the universe pushing me toward my purpose (or myself), I never quite committed to the purpose; I never quite committed to God. I walked around God--around my purpose, around myself--but never stepped in. Maybe this is you. This has been your life for years...going in and out of the revolving door that is God's arms. And God still loves, even when you're outside of the door. God still loves, even when your head is pressed