ships need sails

When our Pastor began the process of unveiling the vision for our church, I cringed. My church was just fine. It was very evident that God himself was going to have to bring the change to pass. I was simply going to stand by and observe; maybe even comment. But I wanted nothing to do with the "trend of the month" club. I had seen the players and they were lacking. They jumped on the bandwagons almost as fast as they jumped off.

That's precisely how they snagged me. Pastor called on me to step in and minister to the next generation. Bring commitment to the unfaithful; integrity to the slighted. He caught me up in the gust of wind that filled the sails of that original raft. It was poorly built and inhabited by a mangey bunch of malnourished souls. I had been blessed to benefit from fine teachers and dedicated servants early in my Christian walk. It was time to give back. Alright, alright, I'm in. So I lashed myself to the mast and prepared to set sail with this wiley bunch of posers and stowaways.

I knew I wanted to be part of the journey God was sending us on. I had felt the wind in my hair and wanted the sea spray on my face. The Word was living and active and people were excited. God was proven as the Creator who cared. Jesus was more than the smiling guy in the video. The Holy Spirit was comfort and power and our mysterious personal ally.

The waters were sometimes smooth and then rough. The vessel was being rebuilt with each life we took on. The skill of one became the essential surgical tool for another. The burden of the next person we fished from the waters seemed to confirm the purpose of every past suffering. We needed each other. There was no more rescuer and rescued; we were fellow passengers making this journey together.

What turned us from wary skeptics and ravaged flotsam into crewmates bound to serve each other? We were actively engaged in loving each other. I extended my faith and you received encouragement. You acknowledged encouragement and I was inspired by what God could do with my filthy rags. This divine exchange was undeniable.

But the bartering could have stopped there. We improved the vessel. We strenghtened each other. We were bound by love. We knew God was with us. We had no trouble seeing how associating with another small team of like-minded folks would be good for us. We needed fellowship, support, and bonding. We found a LIFE Group and we joined in. Then they asked us to invest in the lives of others and commit to lead a LIFE Group. Splashing and flailing and diving ensued. We were certainly not going to assume that all the led were meant to be leaders. Some were just followers, right?

My vessel was rocking wildly and taking on water in the process. I did not want to be a leader and the seasick travelers did not want me to lead them. It was a rough journey from the start. I tried, I failed, I talked, I listened, I scrambled, I settled in. I got my feelings hurt and I hurt the ones I meant to love. And then I saw it...I had acquired something during my travels. Being loved by God in my need wasn't enough, it's easy to love the God of love. Serving God from my strengths wasn't enough. I had found an anchor.

God loves me and I love Him but now I love the souls He has entrusted to me. I can clap for them when they succeed and I can cry for them when they fail. I can hurt when they fall away and I can stand in the gap until they return. But my love for them is my anchor in any storm because only God could make me love them more than I love myself.

I will daily seek God's nourishment for my soul. I will quit polishing the brass and waxing the wood for show. I will go without and try not to complain about church budgets or worship styles. I must remain seaworthy because this is a human flotilla, not a cruise ship.