What does life look like when dreams
die? I'm asking this question because I find myself there. You see,
though I can't place when it happened, my greatest dream has died.
For years, since I was in high school, my goal was to be a teacher of
the Word of God. Really what I wanted was to be a preacher, in an
expository fashion, of the Word, but I didn't know that's what I
wanted until I was exposed to expository preaching in seminary; but
that's all come and gone.
That which animated my life for the
longest has now become but a bit of background noise. I devoted my
life to fulfilling my dream. The courses I chose at college, the
groups I associated with, developing my skills and reading books on
subjects that I thought might make me better, all of this was geared
to one goal. When I graduated college I took a job I didn't like
with one goal: to spend time there to put money aside to pay for
seminary. Then I chose a seminary I thought would be the best to
help me achieve the dream of teaching God's people.
At seminary I chose the course of
training that I thought would give me the most rounded education and
the ability to serve Christ's church the best. You see, at Southern
the Biblical and Theological Studies track is one of the most
challenging (not that any are easy!) but is also very well rounded,
requiring the student to be familiar with both the Old and New
Testaments, with Greek and Hebrew, and with a multitude of
theological approaches. That was what I wanted, to be as familiar
with the Bible as I could be, to be as well equipped to serve the
church as a pastor as I could possibly be. My goal was to do this as
fast as possible, so I could go from school and preparation to
service as quickly as I could. So my wife and I sacrificed what we
could, we sold what we could to get the money we needed, and I
finished school in three years. All of this had one goal in mind: to
be a preacher of the Word and an effective servant of the church and
of Christ.
After seminary my wife and I moved in
with her grandmother. I thought it would be temporary, lasting only
a few months. After all, I'd already had my resume out for several
months. I'd sent my resume to dozens of churches already, so there
was no way I wouldn't hear from someone soon. But, lest we think we
are the architects of our own destiny, life tends to turn out
differently than we expected. After not hearing from any church for
a year, I started looking for a job in the secular world.
My goal was simple: find a temporary
secular job, keep looking for a church, and just help make enough
money so that we could afford our own place. Well, things didn't
work out that way. I found a temporary job, but due to various
events, we could never really set enough money aside to move out on
our own.
Well, since I've been out of seminary,
2 years now, I've heard from three churches who asked me to come and
preach for them, and many, many more who didn't need my preaching
to tell them they weren't interested in me. (Oh, and one search
committee who asked me to set up an evening preaching engagement at a
local church so they could come and hear me, but they never contacted
me again, so I can only assume they found someone else.) Basically,
its been a long and very frustrating two years. I've complained to
God, I've asked those in my church whether I may have misunderstood
the calling of God in my life, and I've gone to the depths of
depression, seeking nothing more than darkness and solitude. Through
it all though, I've continued to hope that there was a church out
there, somewhere, that needed me, that wanted me to come and be their
pastor. But now... now I don't really care any more.
It's surprising to hear myself say
that, and to know I'm being honest. It's surprising because even now
I'm in the first semester of an Ed.D. Program from Southern. I began
this program hoping to get a doctorate so I would be even more
prepared for the church. I figured a doctorate in education would
make me even more useful, and would help me to be even more prepared
to teach in the church. I still have a lot of work to do, but it's
only 6 semesters long, and I'm almost 25% of the way through the
course work now. But as I said, I don't really care about it any
more.
You see, the temporary job I found has
become more than temporary. I've been offered a full-time salaried
position. It isn't a lot, but it is enough for me to care for my
family, to provide a roof for my wife and daughter, and to be out on
our own. I know I won't ever wake up saying, “I can't wait to go
to work today!” but at the same time I don't wake up saying, “I
hate this job.” While I may not be thrilled about what lies before
me, I don't dislike it. It is, for all intents and purposes,
sufficient.
Looking back, I've spent half my life
trying to find a way to be a teacher of the Word, to serve the people
of God. My hope was to be a pastor, with all that entails:
counseling, visiting, preaching, praying, teaching, encouraging and
rebuking, I wanted to do it all. So I spent years studying,
learning, being a student of what I wanted to teach. And perhaps, in
some small way, I have done that which I desired. I've taught
classes, I've preached the Word, I've encouraged the discouraged,
I've rebuked the foolish, I've counseled the hurting, I've visited
the sick, and I've prayed through all of it.
In looking back at what I've done and
what I've been I can honestly say that I haven't accomplished my
dreams. Yes, in some small way I did a little of everything I hoped
to do, but I never served in the capacity I had hoped for. In
looking forward at what God has laid before me I see little to no
reason to think the future will be any different than the past. But,
perhaps there is something here in the present, something I never
expected to find while I was dreaming about a future that never
happened. Perhaps, where I am today, though there is no excitement,
there is contentment.
The death of dreams is not an awful
thing, it is not a depressing thing, not is it a part of life to be
raged against. The death of dreams is perhaps the birth of
contentment. Depression, anger, frustration, and bitterness in
regards to life occur because the dreams of life have not died. In
the midst of the dream, when I could not have what I desired, when I
could not accomplish what I was seeking, no matter how hard I tried,
there I found depression, there I was angry, there I was frustrated
and bitter. Now, now that the dream is dead, I'm not depressed about
it, I'm not angry, I'm resigned to the realization that this is life,
and I'm content with that.
Paul says that if we have food and
clothing, with this we should be content. He said to Timothy that
godliness with contentment is great gain. So I am content to be
where I am. Instead of raging about what I want, instead of sinking
to depression thinking I'll never accomplish my dreams and desires,
I'm at rest, content that this is what my life is.
Do I still desire to be a pastor?
Yes, most certainly. Would I take a position if one was offered to
me and it was sufficient to support my family? Again, of course I
would take such a position. But I'm okay with what I have, I'm okay
with the fact that I will never be a pastor, that I will always be a
“layman” and that I will never serve the church in an “official”
capacity.
My dream was to change the world for
Christ. To preach the Word with boldness and see many come to know
the amazing love of God that sent his Son to die for sinners such as
me was what I wanted. I wanted to be great in the kingdom of heaven,
to use the gifts the Lord had given me to really make an impact in my
generation. I wanted to be like Paul, saying that I worked with all
the might that God had given me, and yet not I but the Spirit who
lived within me. But God's plan was something different.
Maybe I'll impact the world, maybe I
won't. Maybe I'll preach the Word and see many come to Christ, and
maybe I won't. Regardless of what I accomplish in the future I know
this: I've impacted the lives of those around me. I've preached
Christ to friends and family, to co-workers and strangers as I've had
opportunity. More important than anything else though, I know I
still have my ministry to my family, and no matter what else may
happen, this is the ministry I have to focus on.
So while my dreams may be dead, I'm
content with where I am. I've given up thinking I'll be a pastor,
but I know I'll never stop being a husband and a father. I'll never
change my nation, but I can change the lives of my wife and daughter
for the better. This ministry, the opportunity to serve my family
and love them no matter what, is worth a few dead dreams. In this I
am content.
To God be the glory, amen.
