Following in Low Times

Those who follow this blog know I normally post weekly. January has blown by me, taken up with recovering from Covid, some holiday time and then resurfacing and getting back to leading worship. In the midst of all that, I took a break from blogging.

Tiredness can sneak up on you. Preparing my first service after a few weeks off felt at times like walking through wet cement. That particular Sunday we canceled due to weather and I e-mailed out the worship materials. It was just as well as I’m not sure I had the oomph to be energetic in the pulpit. The following week, after not seeing everyone for a month, I still struggled with focus at times.

How much this was latent effect of Covid or just realities in my personal life and church world I don’t know. I do know that the slower pace of this month has meant more time with reading and with God. I had ordered a chronological read-through-in-a-year study Bible and I’ve been disciplined in starting my day with it. The pile of books I got last year I’m finally making a dent in. The long dark nights have encouraged me to snuggle under a blanket and catch up on webinars about ministry and good health.

In this Epiphany season, I’ve been doing a sermon series on the perspective of the disciples in following Jesus, particularly Peter. Lent is early this year and I’ve been trying to condense a lot in these few weeks. We’ve highlighted the call to follow Jesus (and how it took more than one invite for some), the disciples being sent out in twos after training and lived experience of Jesus’ ministry, and, this past Sunday, the feeding of the 5,000 and Jesus walking on water.

One of the things I’ve noticed is that Jesus struggled to find those pockets of time where He could escape the demands of the desperate crowds and pray and process what was happening. The needs were great and the people wanted a hero healer to follow. The disciples were along for the ride and learning that following Jesus was exhausting. The feeding of the 5,000 (imagine twelve people feeding nearly double that number, because women and children weren’t counted, and then doing the cleanup) and then rowing across Lake Galilee, fighting an intense storm all night, happened within 24 hours. They’d been doing crowd control all day and then struggled against the unrelenting wind and waves into the early morning hours.

I’m tired. January is usually a tougher month for me anyway. I may not be feeding 5,000+ people, but I do have people relying on me and concerns among my flock and within my family and community. My heart is heavy at times and having sensitivity to suffering, here and around the world, is draining in the midst of so many problems. We need the discipline to shut everything out and come to God and let it go. We need to make space to listen to what God has for us and recognize it doesn’t all rest on us. We need to replenish and give ourselves to God and trust that God knows what we need and what needs we can fill.

As I thought about Peter asking Jesus to have him walk out to Him on the water I wondered if I would have asked that question. Would I have wanted that ability and why? And when Jesus said yes, would I have done it? In the past I’ve ventured out beginning new ministry programs and trusting that it was the Spirit leading me to do so. Maybe it’s my stage in life, where things are different than I had pictured they would be, that holds me back. Maybe, like those disciples, the grind of serving more and more people and then being caught in what seems a never-ending storm is enough for them and me to panic and struggle, exhausted and frustrated, and to lose that spark that invigorated us in the first place.

I don’t think I’m alone in the struggle. Church is more complicated with fewer people coming, leading and willing to serve at capacity (with that capacity diminishing due to age for many). Balancing self-care and service is tricky. Trusting in God’s plans that we can’t see is challenging. The storms are around us and the shore seems far away. What would have been easy even a few years ago now takes much more effort and we wonder what to throw our energies into out of the array of what needs to be nurtured and addressed.

My prayer as I wrestle with this is that we will recognize Jesus in the storm. We will not fear Him and freak out but see Him right there with us, aware of what we’re going through and ready to welcome us out on that water. If Peter hadn’t asked for that power Jesus probably would have still calmed them and the storm down. But as leaders we believe that we are called to step out in faith to disciple those in our boat. So I pray that as we do that we keep our eyes on Jesus. That’s what He asks. Don’t worry about the storms all around because He’s got them under control. Just keep your eyes on Him to steady and support you. Easier said than done, but still something to aspire to when we are tired and needing inspiration and fresh courage.

Happy February and may your storms merely send you back into Jesus’ embrace, reminded that you are held safe there.