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Feeling Abnormal With Normal
Every Sunday, for all of my life (yes, even as an infant), I have gone to church. It’s the normal thing for me to do. I would feel abnormal not doing so. But yesterday, as my husband and I went to church, I felt abnormal.
It wasn’t a different kind of church. It wasn’t a different time to go to church. There weren’t different songs being sung. There wasn’t a different gospel being preached.
The difference was the church we attended wasn’t the one we had been attending for 17 years. It wasn’t the church where my husband had been the senior pastor. Our normal Sunday worship experience felt abnormal because God had spoken, we had obeyed (a little reluctantly I admit), and we had retired from this church.
Making His children uncomfortable in the ordinary is one of the ways God works to make Himself known to us. Moses experienced feeling abnormal with normal when he took his sheep up the mountain to graze as he normally did and encountered an ordinary bush not being consumed by the fire that enveloped it. From that bush, Moses heard the voice of God, obeyed His commands (though not always willingly and perfectly) and came to know Him in a relationship that Scripture identified as “friends.”
For church members used to having the same pastor for 17 years, I suspect their normal seemed abnormal yesterday also. Like me, they may have found the abnormal uncomfortable, strange and, yes, fearful. What do we do with these feelings?
Moses told God his misgivings about these changes from his normal. I believe that’s the pattern God intends for us. As we lay before Him our insecurities, we can be certain of His plans for us. “’For I know the plans that I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope.’” (Jeremiah 29:11).
The abnormal can be very good indeed. Moses probably thought so. What could be more abnormal than being friends with God?
Mother Would Have Loved This!
Following the Sunday morning worship service in which James preached his last sermon as Bethel’s senior pastor and before our retirement party that evening, my dad, James and I went out to a restaurant together for a little family celebration of our own. After we had ordered our entrees, we began to reflect on the morning worship service. The sanctuary had been crowded because, while we normally have three separate worship times, on this day, everyone had come to the main campus for the 10:45 service. The worship pastor led the congregation in some of James’ favorite hymns and contemporary music, and the choir sang a beautiful anthem of Psalm 103, James’ favorite chapter in the Psalms. There were presentations made to both James and I during the worship service and just before the benediction was given. All of our emotions were on overdrive. Tears seem to come and go at will.
As our family talked about all of this during our dinner, one of us said, “Mother would have loved this.” My mother, who passed away in March of this year, was a woman who loved times of celebration. Her children learned very early in their lives that birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, or sometimes even just an ordinary Friday night, should be occasions for much fanfare. It was required during those times to have lots of food, special gifts and, most of all, the family should be together.
Then, when James and I stood in a receiving line during our retirement reception last Sunday evening, a dear lady who had come to know my mother very well in the few months Mother had lived in Norman, remarked to me, “Oh, your mother would have loved all of this.” I choked back tears and just nodded, as she went on to say, “She just loved being a part of our Bethel family.”
Yes, that’s the reason my mother would have loved all the activities during this special day in our lives. While all the requirements of a party were present–plenty of food and special gifts, it was most of all a celebration of a family. It was a coming together of a people who are our brothers and sisters, our sons and daughters, our mothers and our fathers and in the midst of sharing a love for one another , we were also enjoying our love for Christ. As Jesus taught in Luke 18:29-30, “There is no one who has left house or wife or brothers[or parents or children, for the sake of the kingdom of God, who will not receive many times more in this time, and in the age to come eternal life.”
Mother would have loved our retirement party because it was a family celebration, and that’s why James and I will always cherish our time at Bethel, it was time spent with our family.
A Tribute To My Husband Upon His Retirement From Bethel
A Tribute To My Husband Upon His Retirement From Bethel
You chose obedience to Him,
Coming to this place unknown,
Lifting up your eyes to see,
Not gain or fame or glory
But
His hand, His place.
You pledged covenant with Him,
Promising prayer and study,
Time and effort,
Building not a church your own,
But
His church, His people.
You made sacrifice for Him,
Purposing to give or wait or
Take a stand or pledge,
Knowing not your future plans
But
His plans, His ways.
You left this church for Him,
Affirming bonds of hope, of grace,
Of mercy and compassion,
Believing not His work was done
But
His work, His new beginning.
Surviving As A Pastor’s Wife
A conversation I had with a young woman in one of the first churches where my husband was pastor came to my mind today. I’m sure it’s because I’m about to leave my role as “the pastor’s wife” when my husband retires from our church this month. She asked me, “How can you survive as a pastor’s wife?” If I recall correctly, we were standing in the foyer just before the church was to vote on a controversial topic, and she knew several church members were against my husband’s stand on the subject. What I don’t remember is my answer.
How would I answer that question today after 45 years of being a pastor’s wife? The question itself implies my role is a difficult one. While I can only speak for myself and my own experiences, being the wife of a minister has never seemed an impossibly tough and demanding way of life that I had to survive. I am not so naïve, however, not to realize how many ministers’ wives chafe and struggle under this mantle, hating the scrutiny, the pressures, and the expectations.
Whether it was because I transitioned from being a preacher’s daughter to a pastor’s wife in one single day when I was 18 years old and said “I do,” or whether it was because I felt the call of God upon my life to some type of Christian service when I was a teenager, (and I suspect it was a combination of both) I walked into our first church loving both the title and the responsibilities of my role.
During the years that followed that first pastorate, I’ve continued to enjoy serving my Lord as the wife of a pastor. I can think of at least four reasons why I’ve lived in this role so easily. First, I love the pastor. I believe the Lord called James to be His spokesman, and He created love in my heart for him, and thus also created a love for the task He gave to James. I’m proud and happy to be the wife of the pastor, because I’m proud of him and happy with him.
Secondly, I accept the person God made me to be. I am not a children’s worker, a choir director, a women’s coordinator; nor am I called to serve in the myriad of other necessary positions in the church. While I am able to function fairly well in many different capacities, I have discovered my calling is to adults, specifically teaching the Bible to adults. I also know the limitations of my personality. I feel emotionally and physically drained after working with people, while some people seem supernaturally energized as they work with others. Knowing the other gifts and traits the Lord has given me, enables me to function joyfully as a pastor’s wife.
Thirdly, I seek the guidance and power of the Holy Spirit. While teaching is one of my spiritual gifts, I am more introvert than I am an extrovert. It takes the power and strength of His Spirit to enable me not only to use the gifts I’ve been given, but also to display the fruit of His Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.
And, lastly, I spend time daily in His Word. I listed this reason last because I believe it is the foundational stone on which the other reasons are built. I could not love my husband, know myself or be filled with His Spirit, if I were not reading His Word and praying that Word back to Him on a daily basis.
While these reasons answer the question of how I have thrived as a pastor’s wife instead of just surviving, my prayer is that in everything I have brought Him glory. (Colossians 3:17)
Why Does This Look Familiar?
This video reminds me of my adventures in setting up our Skype account.
How Much Time Does It Take?
On Saturday it took two hours to defrost the freezer chest in my garage. I had put off this task for the last two years. And, in reality, I wasn’t “working” on it for those two hours. I simply took all the food out, put the perishables in portable ice chests, unplugged the freezer and let our 100-degree temperatures in our garage do the rest. So I might have actually “worked” for 15 minutes.
After feeling a sense of accomplishment, I wondered why I had procrastinated for so long when it took so little time and effort on my part. I believe the answer is that very truth. Some things take so little effort on our part that we know we can do them at any time, so we just don’t do them at all or we put off doing them until the need of doing them reaches a crisis point.
I’ll confess something. (For those of you who really do know me, you’ll say, “of course she did.”) I’ve timed some of my household tasks I don’t think I have time to do. It takes me 15 minutes to fold and put away a load of clothes, 20 minutes to dust my furniture and 10 minutes to mop my kitchen floor. I’ve timed these activities because it helps me realize how little time it actually takes to enjoy the results of doing them.
This train of thought was one of the motivators behind my starting a Quiet Time 35 years. Oh, I surely believe the Holy Spirit’s guiding and the Lord Jesus’ wooing me was the greater motivator, but the sentence I read in a little booklet on Quiet Time was what got my attention. It read something like this, “Would you be willing to make an appointment to spend 15 minutes every day with Jesus?” My very definite “Yes” and the committment I made to try it for seven days led to such joy that I’ve seldom missed a morning with Him since then. In fact, throughout these years, whether it necessitated my getting up before sunrise or letting my day’s activities wait, I have found the time to spend an hour with Him and His Word every morning.
I’ve titled this post, “How Much Time Does It Take?”. I phrased it that way to get your attention, so you would take the “time” to read it because it’s a question common to all of us. But what I really wanted to ask was, “Would you be willing to make an appointment to spend 15 minutes every day with Jesus?”
Do You Take Enough Pictures?
During the past few months, I’ve had two different occasions for which I’ve needed to look back through several years of our family’s photograph albums. The first was to pick out pictures to make a memorial video for my mother’s funeral. The second was to choose photos to be used during my husband’s retirement party. Although these have been two quite dissimilar reasons for perusing through the album pages, each time I’ve been so thankful I took snapshots of events, occasions and even everyday activities. At no time was I sorry I decided to pick up my camera and photograph someone. In fact, I have instead asked myself, “Why didn’t I take more pictures?”
If there’s one word that describes what photos do for us, it’s the word remind. Since a photograph “freezes the moment,” when we see that moment again, we are able to remember the feelings we were experiencing when that situation was happening. We get to relive both the happy and sad times, perhaps realizing, with the passage of time, that the sad times weren’t as sad as we thought they were then, and that now the happy times bring another round of happiness as we view the scenes again.
It’s especially joyous to view photographs in the company of friends and family and have them share these moments with us. If they were there when the pictures was taken, and they express their impressions and feelings, then you’re able to understand them and their emotional makeup even better, and if they weren’t there, but you are explaining the scene or the people, then your retelling of the situation puts things in a better perspective for both of you.
Like a photograph, the reading and teaching of God’s Word is a form of reminder. In 2 Peter 1:12, Peter writes, “I shall always be ready to remind you . . .” and then he writes again of the importance of pursuing holiness and seeking righteousness. Paul does the same thing in his letters, and the entire book of Deuteronomy is a “photo album” from Moses to the people of Israel. The pages of Scripture are reminders of truths we’ve heard and experienced for ourselves, of God’s purposes He has planned for us from eternity past and certainly of people, including His Son, He has placed in His Word to give us a picture of who He is.
Similar to the joy of sharing our family photos, when we open up God’s Word and share these people and events and truths and insights of Scripture with each other, we gain new perspectives and notice little details we’ve never seen before. Perhaps the best similarity between the Bible and a family photo album is that His entire Word is simply an incredible portrait of His love for us in the face of His Son, Our Savior Jesus.
I would definitely suggest taking more pictures, but much more importantly, take the time and effort to view the revelation God has given us of Himself through Scripture.
Our Childhood Bedroom
I was intrigued recently by a new photography book entitled Where Children Sleep by James Mollison. You can view about twenty of the pages here. There’s an obvious stark contrast between the children born into poverty and those born into an abundance (or over abundance in some cases). In fact, the project was undertaken by Mollison in order to represent needy children around the world. Yet, he has approached this assignment in an insightful way. He notes that each child’s sleeping area is “. . . your little space within the house.”
So, where did you sleep at about 8 years of age? My sleeping space was in a bedroom I shared with my two younger sisters in a church parsonage in Gideon, Missouri. They had bunk beds, but I slept in a twin-sized bed with a headboard. That was important, that headboard, because it held my “things.” My things mostly consisted of books given to me by my grandmother who lived in Texas and who shared my love of reading. There was also a radio, a stuffed black and white dog named Spotty, and a musical jewelry box that held only pens for writing. As I think back on it now, those things still represent me. I love technology (the radio), dogs (Spotty), writing (the pens) and, of course, good books. Mollison is right, this was “my little space.”
His Glorious Word
Tomorrow I’ll be teaching my Bible study class at Bethel Baptist Church for the last time. I will have taught this class for the past 17 years, although the name of the class has changed several times as has its membership. Throughout the years the attendance has remained pretty steady at 25-35 and has mostly consisted of married couples. As I’ve taken inventory this past week, I’ve discovered that I have taught over half of the books in the Bible. Genesis alone took almost two years to complete since my style of teaching is to go verse-by-verse, and it’s not been unusual for a chapter to take two Sundays to cover.
For the past ten years, I’ve taught using PowerPoint, scanning in Bible story pictures and illustrations from children’s Bibles in order to bring the passage outline to life. (Previously, I used transparencies and an overhead projector and when I first started teaching more than 40 years ago, I utilized an old-fashioned flipchart.) Since I write my own lessons and make my own illustrations, the process of developing a lesson can easily take 15-20 hours each week.
But the reality behind all these facts is the overwhelming blessing I have received from being given the privilege of teaching the Word of God. To prepare each week I get to read commentaries by great Bible scholars like John MacArthur, John Phillips, James Montgomery Boice, John Piper and many others. I get to meditate on one passage of Scripture all week long and decide how best to share it with others. I must see how the passage applies to my life before I can make the application to others. After a day of study, I often find myself singing the old hymn, “All day long I’ve walked with Jesus, it has been a glorious day.”
Yet, even after all these years of learning and teaching, I feel I know next to nothing of the incredible treasures His Word contains. As soon as I discover one nugget, I look up to see a whole mountain of gold waiting to be mined. My overwhelming desire for those I have taught is that I have created within them a thirst for His Word that will never be quenched. I pray for them even as Paul prayed for the Ephesians, “that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints, and his incomparably great power for us who believe.” (Ephesians 1:18-19)
Thriving In The Vine
Every year we plant sweet potato vines along our back fence. We don’t plant many, maybe 15 in all. But by August, they’ve completely covered the length of the fence and serve as a gorgeous backdrop to my backyard when seen from my living room window.
However, this year in Oklahoma the weather has been one for the record books. Since early June, it’s been over 100 degrees almost every single day. We’ve had sparse rainfall and yard watering is under mandatory restrictions in our city. So, the vines have not been watered by human hands, having to survive on the moisture from the intermittent rainfalls. Two weeks ago, I wasn’t sure they were going to make it at all. However, here they are, thriving as if they had been watered and cared for every day. In reality, all they really did was remain rooted to the main branch.
As I looked at the thriving vines, I was reminded of Jesus’ teaching from John 15 concerning vines. He was teaching the necessity of the vine (or believers in Christ) remaining and not being cut off from the main branch (or Christ Himself). A believer thrives spiritually by continually staying attached to his spiritual life source, to Jesus.
No matter how harsh the conditions, if I remain in Him, I will thrive. No matter how sparse the resources, if I remain in Him, I will thrive. This beautiful truth is the reason I’ve used this phrase when signing my name to letters and emails: Abiding in Him, Luana.
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His Glory My Joy, a blog of Author Luana Ehrlich 
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