Choosing To Bless {Dear Church}

Dear Church- Please forgive me. I have wronged you. In my attitude regarding our differences I have not been gracious or kind. I have sat in judgement of you.

I have allowed a bad experience to taint all of Gods' people. I drew lines and threw labels and cast accusation on people I did not know.

And with time, God has shown me that the love of His church, for all its imperfection and flaws, can still be genuine and nurturing and welcoming.

I want to start again. I want to love you better.

I want to bless you from an abundance of love, because you are my dear church family.

The truth is we need each other and we are better together.

I forgive you and I’m sorry. How may I serve you now? What gifts can I bring?

I have shared my story with you because it was the first fruits of my transformation. This is the obvious contribution which I have made, but which now seems to be lacking continuing momentum as I press forward into more.

Claiming my story has been integral to my growth in moving forward, but holding onto the bitterness will close the door of opportunity for our reconciliation. To love you well I must release you from your mistakes, as you must release me from mine.

Dear church. You were part of my failure. Now you are part of my victory. For this I am grateful.

For all that you hurt me, if I had to do it all over again, I would. Certainly I would make different choices, but if I had to endure the pain again, I would. Because God has put a love in my heart for you that no amount of misunderstanding or disappointment could ever erase.

I love you even more now, church, because I see you and you see me, and we can come to an understanding that surpasses all past failures.

I listened with you on Sunday to the guest pastor, Dr. Ed Stetzer, as he spoke about Choosing to Let God Use And Bless You.

“This week and beyond you will be choosing to bless others on mission,” he said.

Yes, there have been many firsts since we gave each other a second chance.

Most notably, this week I served on one of your serve teams- it’s been a long time. This past Sunday I chose to bless you from the work of my hands and the service of my time to show that I still care. 

This week I took yet another step towards emotional and spiritual transformation, thanks to you, my church.

It was a risk, but it was worth it. And I realized this:

I was wrong about so many things, like people and love and community and forgiveness and second chances.

The rejection from one Jesus person does not signify rejection from the entire Jesus community.

So on Sunday, for the first time in many months, I showed up at 7am, when the truck was full of rolling carts and boxes that had not been fully unloaded, when the air was crisp and the classrooms were still cold, when the campus was empty except for the dedicated few who rise early.

This is still my favorite part of Sunday. I love our early mornings together.

I have prayed to love this about you again, and here I am now writing it with joy.

Thank you, Jesus. It’s the simple things that make me happy now, the little things which I will never take for granted again.

 “Does God consistently answer your prayers?” Dr. Stetzer asked us on Sunday.

Does He?

I talk to God often, but usually it’s about what I’m currently frustrated with rather than what I hope for the future. As I have brought my conscious awareness to the persuasive abundance of blessing God has poured over me though you, the church, there has been a shift in what I hear in His replies to me.

I hear things like “I see what the church has done to you and I will make things right. Trust me- that which has wounded you can also heal you. I can use anyone and any place- my power is not limited by the name they may call themselves. My work goes deeper than words or titles or denominations.”

Some of my recent prayers, the mindful ones which come from a place of abiding in the present moment and surrendering fear and worry, some of these prayers have begun to be answered.

I asked for second chances, friendships, a ministry role among the followers of Jesus.

I asked God for my transformation story

to continue on.

God said YES. He used you, the church, to open me back up so I could surrender to His promises. 

You, the very people I have feared the most.

He speaks to me in subtle messages in my heart- “You are loved, these are your people, too. Let’s work together, I want to bless you, so move when I move and always know that I am proud of you. Don’t give up on My story for your life. I know what I am doing, and I can accomplish it here and now amongst these people, in this place. Be still and trust. Watch and listen.”

He also speaks to me in loud proclamations, which come in the form of personal victories accomplished by you and through you, dear church-

~Victory looks like going to a leadership conference and hearing about the power of forgiveness within church ministry.

~It looks like the words “I forgive you” in the most simple and straightforward way possible, not for the sake of another this time, but finally extending those words for me and my own sake, regardless of the outcome, the reception or the impact.

~It looks like planting a seed of deep healing within myself that can grow from the inside out.

~Victory looks like like driving home down an old road with a new attitude on a Sunday afternoon.

~It looks like taking an entire afternoon to go shopping for myself alone at the mall, investing in new clothes after many months of not caring.

~It looks like doing my makeup for the first time in 2018 because I was too weary and too wary to do otherwise.

~Vicotry is showing up at 7am to help set up the children’s ministry rooms.

~It looks like getting my team t-shirt. It looks like getting one for my son.

~It looks like having your face staring up at you from the church bulletin and realizing you are actually being noticed.

~It’s allowing my writing to float freely along on a vast sea of content and being peacefully OK with not getting noticed, read, followed or promoted.

~Its about realizing you are making noticeable progress on the road to emotional freedom.

I am tasting emotional victory one day at a time.

Dear church, some of you are reading Pastor Holladay’s book with me, Putting It Together Again When It's All Fallen Apart.

I love this line from page 112- “Be humble enough to recognize how easily you could slip back into the old patterns that got your relationships in trouble. Build in some new patterns. With every success there is a slump. With every mountaintop, there is a valley. We always expect a loss of energy after a failure, but we are often surprised by the physical and mental slump that follows a success.”

I think here of our brother Elijah, who in 1 Kings 19 experiences the depression that comes from peaking in ministry. He wished to die after accomplishing the greatest church service ever known to mankind.

Because one hard thing you taught me, church, is that leadership is painful. Especially when your expectations are for the bent and broken people of Jesus to be God Himself incarnate.

Dear church, can you forgive me for holding you up to an impossible standard and blaming you when you couldn’t measure up?

The truth is, I just want to love you and I want you to love me.

I want to help lead you, which means sometimes making the hard choices before you do, and being the first one to take the first step towards reconciliation. This is why ministry sometimes hurts.

Pain is the mark of leadership. And for me, it’s hard to let go of pain, because the void it reveals is empty and full of frightening possibility.

Pastor Holladay also wrote this about the pain of serving: “It is a combination of the natural letdown from the adrenaline of the success and the emotional depletion that comes from the giving of yourself. Be prepared for it. Don’t let it overwhelm you, and let God carry you through.”

I let this very thing overwhelm me, church, and it brought out my messiest self in your very midst.

But you have helped me see that all is not wasted.

When I watched Pastor Rick do the Easter Prayer Breakfast for pastors this morning, I was struck by his testimony and his statement-

“Your greatest hurt can become your greatest ministry.”

And it did, through you, dear church! I once wrote this about you back in my confession:

The church is a community that reminds me of my highest highs and lowest lows.

We are coming up together now from of a low point, which requires lots of trust and intentionality. So to declare my determination to heal our past, today I showed up for you. And I will do it again.

I decided to try meeting you in the middle, somewhere between past hurts and future victories.

I choose to bless you, beloved church.

So I showed up at 7am to set up on a Sunday morning, and I will do so again and again without needing to be asked. Because I’m starting over. I’m building a foundation. I’m tasting victory, and I am trying to allow myself the space to recover from the history between us. I want to show you how much I still care.

Emotional progress is wonderfully difficult to navigate, so I will not go it alone. I will make connections and allow myself to be noticed- and as you have shown me, I am indeed being seen.

A deep thanks to the Jesus people who are reaching out to me and helping me to trust again.

I will choose to bless and let God use my gifts to serve you, church- and I will do it scared, because otherwise it will never get done.

I cannot bless from a place of bitterness, so you motivate and encourage me to keep letting that piece go. But I discovered this week that it is possible and sometimes necessary to bless from an initial place of fear.

Because I am scared to love you, after everything that has happened between us. This is why I write so much about you.

I used to write here for the sake of our past. And my readership has dwindled and that’s OK. Because I have now begun to write for the sake of our future together. And I don’t need a big audience to make a big difference.

It’s no longer about numbers, it’s about connection and contribution to a community I’m committed to loving, in good times and bad.

Dear church, we have quite a history. Its full of so much baggage. As I continue to sort through the past, God is showing me that your love, for all its imperfection and flaws, can still be genuine and nurturing and welcoming.

Let’s start again. I want to love you better.

I am here to bless you, beloved church.

I forgive you and I’m sorry.

The truth is we need each other and we really are better together.

Just like Dr. Stetzer said, “This week and beyond you will be choosing to bless others on mission.”

Yes, I will.

For us, this mission looks like moving towards each other at a pace we can both trust, in God’s timing and with a servant’s heart. It looks like moving with the Spirit and meeting in the middle.

Dear church, I look forward to blessing you and being blessed by you. I look forward to a fresh outpouring of persuasive abundance.

Let’s celebrate the small victories together on the road to rebuilding our relationship.

See you all on Easter Sunday, my friends. God willing, I will be there at 7am to set up and serve your kids.

With A Hear Full Of Love,

Rebecca

~*~

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