A Shepherd's Love

Shepherd the flock of God which is among you...

Peter, to church elders and pastors--1 Peter 5:2, NKJV

Be diligent to know the state of your flocks, and attend to your herds.

Solomon, to his sons--Proverbs 27:23

I have never been around real sheep, but I've spent my entire adult life shepherding the flock of God.  I am a pastor.  It's what I wanted to be when I grew up.  It is the office to which God called me, and in which he has placed me four times.  I have done other things in ministry--teaching, worship leading, itinerant preaching, just to name a few--but 20 of the last 26 years I have served as the sole and senior pastor for the flocks of God.  I'm surely not an expert, but as someone once wittily said, an expert is just a drip under pressure.  I'm not an expert, but I do have some experiences, and hopefully I've learned a thing or two along the way.  Perhaps I can share some of those lessons and help someone else out today.

I did a little reading today, and found an interesting article written about a career as a shepherd.  The first thing it said was, "Most shepherds take care of sheep, although they may be responsible for goats as well."  Isn't that the truth!  It's the same in church.  Now, it is God who inspired these illustrations, not me.  So when I hear or read real shepherding stories, I understand all to well what is meant, because pastoring a church is like herding sheep and goats.  I'm told that sheep are generally docile and affectionate creatures.  Goats, on the other hand, are aggressive and contrary.  They like to butt things, including the shepherd when he's not watching.  Goats keep things stirred up, but sheep prefer peace.  That being said, I also know that sheep bite.  

Shepherds often work independently in isolated areas.  It is a lonely lifestyle, just you and your sheep on whatever hillside you graze them.  Visits from other shepherds are rare.  There is often lots of distance because of the need to keep the sheep separate and have enough room for everybody.  But as a pastor, I can tell you that I need other pastors.  I want their friendship, their fellowship.  The camaraderie is good, for me and for them.  That is where we gain the most encouragement, because we are those who know, who walk through it, who live it out.  And we gain strength in the sharing.  A shepherd may be forced to live in isolation with his sheep and his dog, but a pastor doesn't have to.

A shepherd's primary responsibility is the welfare of the sheep.  They must be well-fed on good forage, kept away from poisonous plants, and moved to fresh range on a regular basis.  They must also be bedded down in safe places at night.  I'm one of those pastors that still preach three times a week, sometimes four depending on if I teach Sunday School.  I have the responsibility of studying the word to make sure I can rightly divide it like bread and nourish my people.  I'm in the gospels on most Sunday mornings, preaching about Jesus--who He is, what He says, and what He does.  I'm in the epistles on Wednesday nights, taking people verse by verse through the application of the letters of Christ's apostles.  Sunday nights are for short topical series or single textual sermons as the Lord leads.  And when I teach Sunday School, it is usually for a fixed period of time to present a series of lessons on a particular subject.  Like Peter in Acts 6:4, I consider my job first and foremost to be one of prayer and preaching the Word, and I try to do so with variety and consistency in a way that brings the entire Bible to life for my people.  It's what I've always done, it's what I will continue to do.

A shepherd is also responsible for protecting the flock from predators--wolves and wild dogs, lions and bears and the like.  As a young boy, the shepherd David had to personally chase down a lion and a bear to rescue stolen lambs.  He fought them with staff and sling and prevailed, killing those predators with his own hands.  That was his job.  Even Jesus says that a good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.  A hireling runs at the first sign of trouble, but the shepherd of the flock sleeps in the doorway of the fold to defend against the dangers of the night.  He stands on watch during the day.  Nothing is going to harm the sheep as long as the shepherd is on duty.  The Bible warns church leaders to be on guard.  Wolves will sneak in, oftentimes disguised as sheep, and from within the wreak havoc.  Dogs fight and bite and devour one another.  The devil is a roaring lion seeking something to eat.  He's also a thief who comes not but to steal, kill, and destroy. A pastor must guard his people against the dangers of false teachers, false believers, and a very real and hostile world.

A shepherd must see to the health of the sheep, treating disease and injury, protecting from insects, assisting during the lambing process.  Modern shepherds use vaccines and medicines and insecticides.  Biblical shepherds like David used olive oil.  That oil was a healing balm for wounds and a deterrent to keep bugs out of the sheep's ears, eyes, nose, and mouth.  It is also a symbol of Holy Ghost anointing that empowers the servant of God to proclaim the good news to those who need to hear it; to minister comfort and healing to those who are broken; to liberate those who are spiritually bound and oppressed; to announce the Lord's favor to all who need to receive it.  The only way a pastor can effectively minister to the life and health of his people is through the anointing of the Spirit of God.

Finally, sheep need to be sheared and it is the shepherd's job to do that too.  It must be done carefully, keeping the fleece intact while it is being removed, all the while avoiding nicking or cutting the skin of the sheep.  This might be the hardest job of for a pastor.  People accumulate weighty layers of sin and concerns, burdens and bondages in their lives that hinder their walk with the Lord, and the good pastor will assist them in the removal.  He runs the risk of offending them with his preaching, of hurting their feelings when he's only trying to help them.  Sometimes they run away because they don't want to be sheared.  It will only be to their detriment, and the good shepherd goes after them to bring them back to the safety of the fold, to continue the processes necessary for the healthy life of the sheep.

I already said that I'm no expert, but I have had some experiences.  I'm far from being the perfect pastor; I still make plenty of mistakes.  But one thing I know--I have always loved my sheep.  I have prayed for them, interceded and sometimes intervened for them, sometimes with great effect, and sometimes with little or no effect at all.  I have tried to feed them well with the bread of the Word, though sometimes they have refused to eat.  Some have even starved to death staring at an unpalatable dish.  I have tried to warn them against false teaching and false doctrine.  Sometimes they have heeded and been saved from the chaos of following such destruction.  Sometimes they have rejected the real to follow the fake, and been devoured because of it.  I have tried to minister with the grace and power of the Lord Jesus Christ, to heal, to encourage, to strengthen, to bless.  To my surprise, I have sometimes found people who just don't want to get better.  And I have tried to help lighten loads, only to find that some people would rather bear their burdens than give up the things that will break them.

So what is a pastor to do?  We keep doing what we have been called, gifted, and anointed to do.  We shepherd the flock of God, and continue laying down our lives for the sheep that we love.

The good shepherd gives his life for the sheep.

Jesus, John 10:11, NKJV

Moses: Did You Weep?

The Egyptians had enslaved God's personally chosen people, generations of Hebrews who suffered under the lash as they were forced into hard labor.  They were helpless shepherds upon whom the captivity came so suddenly they had no time to react before they found themselves in bondage and servitude.  They were downtrodden, oppressed, living under the constant threat of pain and death.  Finally, the orders came for their babies to be stripped from the breasts of their mothers and cast into the Nile.  Pharaoh's final solution would end the hated Hebrew race once and for all.  The anguished cry went up from the throats and souls of millions of God's people, calling on Him for deliverance.

And God heard.

Prepared in Egypt's courts and universities for leadership, prepared in the wilderness and sheep pastures of Midian for shepherding, 80-year-old Moses was ready to assume the role of deliverer and lead his people out of slavery.  His self-doubt and constant questions plagued him, but they did not deter him from following the leading of the Lord.  With his brother as his spokesman, he stood before the cruel and heartless king of Egypt and issued God's demands:  Let My people go...or else.

Pharaoh picked door number two.  For six chapters in the book of Exodus, the Scriptures record the work and wrath of God against Egypt, Pharaoh's heart growing harder with each passing hour.  Moses never said or did anything he wasn't first directed to do by God, but when God ordered, Moses obeyed.  Water was turned to blood, giving the Egyptians nothing to drink.  Frogs, flies, and lice infested the land.  Cattle died.  The trees and plants were pounded by hail, burned up with fire, eaten by pestilential swarms of locusts.  Human and beast alike were covered in open and painful sores as a darkness so deep it could be felt enveloped the land.  God's power devastated Egypt at the height of its greatness, reducing it to rubble and ruin with crisis, disaster, tragedy, and death.  Finally, the ultimate warning came.  God said to Pharaoh, "You have enslaved my firstborn son.  If you do not let him go, I will kill your firstborn son, and the firstborn son of every family and animal in all the land of Egypt."  Surely Pharaoh knew it would be so.

The people of Egypt begged Pharaoh to let the Israelites go.  The story is told in the annals of Hebrew history that on the day before the final plague, the firstborn sons of Egypt rose up in a rebellion against the king in hopes that their lives would be spared, but their efforts were turned back.  Pharaoh had decided.  Pharaoh was determined.  Pharaoh was willing to risk the loss of his son, and every woman's son, in his defiance of God Most High.

In all of this, the Bible does not record one word regarding Moses' feelings about the matter.

But I know Moses.  I know him through his story and his words.  And I know him as one shepherd knows another.  Moses was the man who stood between God and the congregation of people and said, "Kill me and blot my name out of Your book, but spare these people!" even though he knew they deserved God's judgment.  So I wonder...  Did Moses weep each night of Pharaoh's defiance, hoping that tomorrow would be different?  Did Moses pray and intercede, asking God to change the heart of the one man who could put a stop to all the carnage?  When Moses announced the judgments of God, did he do so with a catch in his voice, a knot in his throat, a sting in his nostrils as he held back the knowing tears?  I think he probably did.

Because I have.

Through the many years of ministry, I have been up close and personal with crisis and tragedy in people's lives.  Some of them were the sweetest people I've ever known.  They loved God and served Jesus Christ with all of their hearts.  They were the most deserving people of blessing that I've ever known.  And yet they had troubles.  But I've also known others who weren't as deserving of blessing as they were of a kick in the behind.  Some I was allowed to warn ahead of time in hopes that they would change.  Others I was forced to stand silently by while they reaped what they had sown.  The hardness of their own hearts brought about so much havoc and heartache, and all I could do was watch.

Pastor, did you pray?  You better believe it!  I remember many sleepless nights when all I could do was toss and turn on my bed or in some other place of prayer, groaning and weeping and calling out people's names in intercession.  I have stood in the gap for the most unworthy of people, begging God for mercy and grace, begging God to postpone judgment until I could make people see the light.  And I have also heard the response of God telling me I was standing in His way, and it was time for me to move.  I usually try to be immediately obedient to the Lord, but I wept as I complied, knowing that time was up.  And I have witnessed up close and personal the judgment of God on those who had resisted His Word and rejected His grace.  It was not a happy time for me, even if I believed they had finally gotten what they deserved.

Surely Moses did not want the children of Egypt to suffer.  Surely he did not wish the grief of losing a child upon any mother in the land.  Surely he did not desire an entire nation reduced to ashes and dust because of the obstinacy of one man.  Surely he did not want deliverance of his own people at the cost of destruction paid by their oppressors.  But there was nothing he could do about it except obey God and accept that God's actions were Divinely just.  He would go mad, otherwise.

At the end of the day, sometimes that is all you can do.  Trust God, and let Him do as he must.

Moses: When No One Wants to Listen

So Moses spoke thus to the children of Israel, but the would not heed Moses,

because of anguish of spirit and cruel bondage.

Exodus 6:9, NKJV

"You shall speak all that I command you...and I will harden Pharaoh's heart,

and multiply My wonders in the land of Egypt.

But Pharaoh will not heed you..."

God to Moses, Exodus 7:2-3, NKJV

You are God's man of faith and power, chosen by Him for this exact hour, this very place, sent by Him for this purpose to this people.  There is no doubt in your mind that you are right where God wants you to be, doing exactly what He wants you to do.  Only no one will listen to you.  I suppose it could be applied to any position of leadership, but since I'm a lifelong pastor, I tend to view this through pastoral glasses, so hear my illustration.

You go the pulpit, Bible and notes in hand, prayed up, prepared, and ready to preach the message God has given you for the crowd.  You do your best with your delivery, but when you look across the congregation, their faces are blank at best, hostile at worst, and that's if they are awake.  You wind up the summation and issue the invitation, wondering who is going to respond to your heartfelt message, and no one raises their hand to acknowledge that anything you said had any effect on them.  No one comes forward for prayer or personal repentance.  No one has anything to say whatsoever about what they've just heard.  They just wait anxiously for the final prayer and dismissal so they can rush out the door to lunch, perhaps shaking your hand on the way out.  And when they return for the next service, they come back unchanged by anything you've said or done.

You go into the community, Bible in heart if not actually in your hand, prayed up, prepared, and ready to proclaim the message of God's love and salvation to those who need to hear it most.  You know how to follow the Roman Road and the Scarlet Thread of Redemption, leading sinners through the Scriptures to the Savior.  You think you've got them to the point of confessing Christ as Savior, but when you ask them if they are ready to do that, they shake their head and say, "I'm fine the way I am.  Life is good.  I don't need this right now."  And no matter how many times you tell them of Jesus and Heaven and sin and hell, no matter how many times you remind them of human mortality and eternal judgment, nothing you say seems to make a difference.

Why do people seem deaf to the things you are sent to say?

Some cannot hear the message over the cries of their own turmoil and problems.  Some are so wrapped up in their current condition and trying to figure a way out of it, that they cannot receive any kind of encouragement from the outside.  Some are caught up in sin and don't want to change.  Some are unresponsive to the Gospel because of  deaf ears, seared consciences, callused souls, hardened hearts.  But you keep doing what you do, because that is God has called and commissioned you to do.  Just remember, God is truly the only one capable of making a change in people's lives.  It just takes time on their part and faithfulness on yours.

When Moses' own people rejected his leadership and mission, he was heartbroken and wanted to give up.  Surely God had made a mistake.  But God spoke to him and said, "These are my people, I've heard their cries, I will deliver them.  But My deliverance has nothing to do with their response.  It has everything to do with My promises, no to them, but to Abraham.  I'm going to do this, whether they want to hear you or not."

And when Pharaoh rejected the word of the Lord, Moses left his palace completely discouraged and wondering if he had really heard from God.  After all, when God speaks you expect everyone to listed.  But God knew Pharaoh was going to need a little help cleaning out his ears, and He said to Moses, "I have made you like God before these people.  Say what I tell you to say, do what I tell you to do.  Be warned:  They aren't going to listen, but I will still set my people free.  You be faithful."

So Moses did what He was told to do.  He obeyed God.  He remained faithful.  God turned the water to blood, infested the land with frogs and flies and lice and locusts, infected the Egyptians with boils and their cattle with disease, afflicted the land with hailstorms, lightning, fire, and frost, deflected the sunlight for three days to leave them in complete and horrific darkness.  And still Pharaoh would not listen.  The rest of the Egyptians heard the message loud and clear.  The Israelites were won over by God's almighty hand.  Everyone was calling for freedom for the slaves.  But Pharaoh's heart was hard.  It was going to take more than this to persuade him to hear the word of the Lord.

It took the death of his own son, and the deaths of every firstborn son in Egypt, from the highest nobility to the lowest slave, to convince Pharaoh that he was up against more than he could handle.  He could not stand in the way of God's will, plan, and purpose for His people.  It cost him practically everything before he consented to what God required of him, and even then, after letting God's people go, he changed his mind and chased them down.  That is the result of a heart hardened so completely by sin and unbelief that it cannot be changed, it can only be destroyed.

And Moses just kept on preaching.  He kept on singing.  He kept on leading as God led him.  Finally, he was able to lead God's people out of Egypt, and the people followed.

Acceptance Brings Release

Everybody likes me, loves me even!  I grew up believing that, and believe it still.  I approach life like I am going to be accepted by everybody, not for what I bring or give or do, but because of who I am.  I am a wonderful person, full of life and love and laughter, fun to be around.  Everybody loves me.

Nevertheless, there are those who don't, and I just don't understand that.  There are those, as I mentioned in the previous blog, who rejected me, and rejection is a terrible thing.  It means they didn't value who I am, or even what I bring or give or do.  It means they have no use for me, whether I was ever useful to them or not.  It means they don't want to be around me, regardless of the good times that could be had.  It means they do not want my love in their life, even though they desperately need to be loved themselves.  It means that they have no place in their life for me.

People deal with rejection in all sorts of ways.  That kind of hurt can lead to withdrawal, to depression, to bitterness and hardened cynicism.  It can provoke an equal and opposite rejection from the one who has been rejected.  My mother is fond of saying that there is a cycle from which people must break free, repeated patterns of rejection and rebellion.  You don't like the way I am?  Watch how good I can be at being the bad that you don't like in me!  Rejection can cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war, causing chaos, destruction, and devastation everywhere it goes, perpetuating itself in rejecting others for both good reasons and bad.  Rejection may never trust again, try again, reach out again.  Rejection may never love again.

The story is told, a true one with which I am personally familiar, of a young man who fell completely in love.  Finding his feelings reciprocated, he devised a marriage plan and invited her to run off with him, which she did.  But after fifteen years of marriage, she switched her attentions to the next door neighbor and left her husband devastated.  It broke his heart, which never healed.  He married again, and again, and again. Through the years, he had eight more wives, numerous girlfriends, uncountable flings.  Who knows how many times he tried to find that treasured love from his youth, and failed.  I used to think that the fault and flaws were the man's, until I was told about the betrayal from his first and perhaps only real love.  Then I understood.  That rejection turned his entire life into a repetitive cycle of continual rejection, him rejecting others before they could do the rejecting themselves.

And I determined not to be that way.

During one particular dark and devastating period of my life, when I had been rejected seemingly beyond my ability to accept or comprehend, I wrestled painfully with my response.  I wanted to lash out.  I wanted things made right.  I wanted revenge!  Being a spiritual man, I kept track of the prayers of King David in the Psalms regarding his enemies.  Prayers like, "God, throw my enemy down on the ground and kick their teeth out!"  "God, chase my enemy down a dark and slippery path, spin them around, and then destroy them while they're dazed and confused."  "God, let me live just long enough to see my vengeance done upon my enemies."  It may not have been the best way to handle it, but slowly it brought me out of the darkness into the light of reality, a reality where I had some choices to make.  How was I going to deal with this particular rejection?

It started with a face to face admission that only came from me:  I love you and I wish you well.

Shortly thereafter, I was in a church meeting where the message was about rejection.  Using the words of Jesus, the preacher said, "Sometimes, you just need to shake the dirt off your shoes and move on."  It resonated with me and I prayed it through, and as soon as that service was over, I drove to the street where they lived.  In the dark, I parked my car in the middle of the street in front of their house, stepped out and removed my shoes, and as I prayed prayers of forgiveness, I slapped my shoes together as hard as I could.  Accepting my rejection was liberating.  It released me from the pain I was feeling, from the hurt, from the baggage.  I was free!

Then one day, I was down on my knees in the dirt, digging and trying to do repair work that I absolutely hated, and it brought my rejection to mind.  Since I was on my knees, I began to pray, and I heard the Lord say, "Pray for that person." 

"I do pray for them," I replied.  "I pray that the earth will open up and swallow them alive down into the pit!  I pray that lightning will strike from heaven and reduce them to a greasy spot on the road.  You've done it before, Lord, you can do it again.  Just let the fire fall!"

And the Lord said to me, "It doesn't work that way.  You need to PRAY for them."  So I did.  I needed to go looking for parts, and in the car covered in sweat and dirt and mosquito bites, I prayed until it became real to me.  I forgave them again, releasing them from their debt of apology to me, and soon began to ask God to forgive them too.  I don't know if God's forgiveness works that way.  I can't repent for someone else's sins against Him, but I can certainly ask God to forgive them of their sins against me.  I accepted that my heart was hurting, would always bear the scars of the wound, and that nothing this side of heaven was going to rectify my situation of rejection, and in that acceptance, I felt the release of grace and peace and joy into my life, and I laughed all the way home.  I was free!

Then one day I was driving down a particular street, pulled up to a certain stop sign, and looking both ways before I drove through, I spotted on the street corner the one who had rejected me.  Wrath and vitriol bubbled up within my heart and out of my mouth, and I uttered the most hateful of curses and condemnations.  In my mind's eye, I actually saw myself losing control of my car, accidentally on purpose running them over in the street, and then throwing the car into reverse just to make sure the job got done right.  If God wouldn't do the greasy spot, I could easily take care of it myself.  Fortunately, it was only in my mind, the words were contained within the confines of my car, and I was the only one who knew the hatred I still held in my heart for that person.  Well, me and God.

"You killed that person just now," He said, in that gentle, non-condemning way of His when He finds an opening in my life to work on the things I usually keep under wraps.

"No I didn't," I replied, driving on.  I wanted them to look up and see me, but they never did.

"Yes you did.  You killed them in your heart, and Jesus said if you think it in your heart, you've done it.  You wanted them dead.  You murdered them in your mind."

I was immediately sick.  Not in body, but in spirit.  For twenty-four hours, I could not sleep and I had no peace.  Finally, at the end of that very long day, I began to pray.  I asked God to forgive me for having murder in my heart.  And He did.  And I forgave my rejector again.  And then I passed into one of the most supernatural experiences of my life, where the Spirit of God took absolute complete control of my mind and my mouth, praying through my weaknesses with groanings inexpressible in words.  I lay across the bed and wept for two hours, unable to utter one word in my native tongue but uttering mysteries to God in a tongue only He could understand.  And when at last the Spirit lifted, I was free.  Again.

I wish I could say that was the last time I had to have a come-to-Jesus meeting over that particular episode of rejection, but I cannot.  I've never had to deal with it so severely, but there are times when the memories surface and the pain with it.  And that's when I have to bow my head again, accept my reality and the grace of God to let it go again, and forgive again, and that's the only thing I can do.  Because I know that nothing I can do or say will ever make it right.  The relationship cannot be repaired or restored this side of heaven, and I pray that they at least make it there.  The wounds cannot be taken back.  The rejection cannot be reversed.  There have even been a few times in the passing of years that it was reinforced with some new action or words. 

But at last I can say that it's okay.  I don't need everyone to like me, or even love me.  I do have Jesus, and He loves me.  My Momma loves me.  My precious wife loves me, even when she'd like to pinch my head off and spit in the hole.  That's the love I need, and that acceptance brings release!

Moses: Accepted--then Rejected

So Moses returned to the LORD and said,

"Lord, why have You brought trouble on this people?

Why is it You have sent me?

For since I came to Pharaoh to speak in Your name,

he has done evil to this people;

neither have You delivered Your people at all."

Exodus 5:22-23

It was a day 80 years in the making.  After all the education, the experience, the false starts and failures, after decades of what seemed to be wasted effort, Moses finally arrived in Egypt to tell his people the time of their deliverance had come.  With brother Aaron as his spokesman, he gathered all the elders of Israel together, gave them God's word, and performed the miraculous signs God had given him to prove that he really did have God's backing.  And those elders, the grandchildren and great-grandchildren of the sons of Jacob who had come to Egypt as refugees only to be enslaved and abused, bowed their heads and worshiped the Lord, knowing that God had heard their prayers.

Their acceptance of Moses was unanimous.  He was God's man, a man of faith of power, and they were going to follow him to the Promised Land.  "Yes!" they cried.  "We're behind you all the way!"  How inspiring and empowering that moment must have been for an unsure stutterer who had come to this moment in time with a heart full of trepidation.  In just a few short moments with these aged patriarchs, he had secured their confidence, and was certain that an audience with Pharaoh would seal God's promises to them.  All he had to do was show Pharaoh the staff-turned-snake-turned-staff-again, the hand-turned-leprous-turned-clean-again, and the water-turned-blood, and that would be enough to convince Pharaoh the best thing he could do was let God's people go.

Only things didn't quite work out that way.  When Moses appeared before Pharaoh to declare the word of the Lord, Pharaoh did not respond well to the message.

First he accused Moses of distracting his Hebrew workforce with fantastical pipe dreams.

Next he demanded more work from the Hebrews while providing less resources for them.

Finally he set his taskmasters on the Hebrews to threaten, abuse, and drive them to work harder.

This was not what the Hebrews had expected.  This was not what they had been promised by this upstart prophetic leadership team of Moses and Aaron.  Where was the deliverance?  Where were the miracles?  Where was the power of God?  And in their anger, confusion, and disappointment, they turned on God's man of faith and power with the bitter accusation, "Look what you've done to us!"

I think back on a lifetime of acceptance--and rejection--in ministry.  As a very young man, I sat with a board of deacons who 3-1 approved of my candidacy to be their pastor, and then in the actual voting process, voted 3-1 against me.  Knowing that the only no votes were them and their kin, with one abstention, and the rest of the church wanted me as the pastor, I accepted the election.  But it still hurt.  When I was reelected two years later by a unanimous vote and in the midst of tremendous growth and an atmosphere of revival, I really felt like I was on top of the world.  Until the day when three of my deacons, friends and workers all, turned on me in a board meeting, rejecting my vision for the future of our church and therefore me as their leader, and the rest of my deacons, friends and workers all, sat silently by while it happened.

I think of the man who championed my candidacy at another church, absolutely convinced that I was God's man for the hour.  I was elected there with a strong vote of confidence, and for six months carried on as if we were on our way to another outbreak of revival.  And then there was the disagreement, and the discovery that my personal champion was a Pharisee, a hypocrite, and a hard man to cross.  With what I hoped then and still believe now was the wisdom of God, I carefully navigated a treacherous path to save a church that I saw was in grave danger, and with the support of those who had the intestinal fortitude to stand with me, I opposed a brood of vipers publicly and won--but it cost me half my church to do so.

I think of the people who lovingly supported me at another church, right up until the day I left, then leveled a barrage of accusations at my departing back.  The accusations were false and quickly proven so, but the damage done to my own soul and the relationships I had shared with some of the dearest people I've ever known was almost unbearable.

I think of the people who one day were putting their arms around my shoulders in friendship, and the next were trying to throttle me when I didn't do things their way.  I think of the one who called me "son" and then betrayed my confidence in a way that could have destroyed my entire life, had wiser and more merciful minds not prevailed.  I think of the one who pastored me and promoted my ministry under his leadership, then tried to ruin me as he himself was falling.  I think of the one I defended as an upright and honest man, whose lies finally came to light when they were spoken about me.  And there have been many others.

I know what it's like to be accepted, only to be rejected later.  I know what it's like to think you are loved, only to find out it was faked.  I know what it's like to be taken in and and led on with words, only to have actions make it all a lie.  I know what it's like to be lauded in one breath, and defamed in the next.  And I know what it's like to want to give up in the moment, to facepalm myself in exasperation or throw up my hands in resignation.  I know what it's like to want to quit everything and just walk away, but for the call of God.

Because when God puts you in a place, you better stay there until God says you've finished the work He set for you to do.

Even Jesus knows what it's like.  On one day, the multitudes cried out, "Hosanna!  Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!"  But on another soon after, they were all calling, "Crucify Him!"

So on that day when Moses had his leadership accepted in the morning and rejected in the evening, he did the only thing he could do.  He went to God with his questions, and waited upon God to answer them.  And God surely did.