Learning the wisdom...

Today was one of those days I had a ringside seat in seeing someone's life turn upside down. One of my pastors went to his dr. "for some Tami-Flu", was taken straight to the hospital in an ambulance, tested up one side and down the other only to learn he needed heart surgery. Talk about life turning around.

The surgery he will have in the morning will almost certainly save his life. Had he not had the congestion, had the doctor not been so observant and thorough, this undetected, untreated valve dysfunction could have had catastrophic results. When heart surgery is the easy option --- well, you get the picture.

As soon as I got the news, I got in the car and went to the hospital. The privileges of pastoral life flooded me in that room. Even small talk among family members is different when it takes place in a hospital room right before surgery. The sweet presence of Christ was so evident to me I felt like I could reach out and, literally, touch Jesus. Instead, we touched each others hands around a family circle for prayer and we felt the Holy Spirit.

As a pastor, I had holy experiences like this over and over. Such communion! Such joy in the expressions of love, appreciation and peace! This is presence that matters. Memory-making for a lifetime. Just a few months ago, someone came up, introduced herself as a member from years ago. "I will never forget that you came to the hospital when my daughter had surgery," she said. "I told you not to come. But your presence made a difference that morning and ever since." That's the kind of sweet comment that makes everything worthwhile.

And, as I was praying in that hospital room tonight, I felt the urge to bolt out of the room, go straight to the bishop and say, "Please, please, please put me back in a church!" --an assignment where hospital visitation is part of the regular, if not daily, routine. In actuality, I had a different experience. When I did leave the room, I burst out in tears -- overcome by the sweetness of our time together and the privilege of the pastoral life.

As I have lived with this pastoral situation in my heart (which is where all good pastors carry their prayerful concerns) and its impact on me, I also realized that, in spite of my great love for the pastoral ministry setting, I have already received something that is good for me right now -- ministry that is a step removed from this pastoral work that I love. I felt the emotions of having life turn upside down so deeply because I'm so close to that experience myself. I've been there. Twice in the last two years, I have been diagnosed with a life-threatening disease/condition that had no warning symptoms. My mind -- and my heart--still reels from the spillover. Then it occurred to me: maybe this is not the best time for me to be in that more direct role of pastoral work walking with people daily in life's unexpected traumas.

The fragility of life is something that no one can miss -- no matter what their vocation. But pastoral ministry -- like many other helping professions--is the front line for lives turned upside down, often at a moment's notice.

I hope I always carry an ache in my heart for pastoral ministry. I pray that everyone serving in a connectional setting honors the local church setting is the primary place that discipleship is lived out and that God's gift of love is received shared and taught. But as I had a glimpse this week of longing for that ministry I love so deeply, I realized that God had already answered a prayer I wasn't wise enough to pray for myself at this time. Healing takes place over time. And I am still needing time for God's unfolding healing work in me.