Heart & Soul

I’m considering the possibility of changing jobs—after six years, moving to … the place isn’t important. Even though I’ve been down this road before, I still haven’t got it figured out. Every time it feels like the first time.

One doesn’t yawn, and say, “Been there, done that,” at the thought of leaving a huge known to go to a bigger unknown, especially if the known has been the richest and most productive of my 30 years in ministry.

I need to think out loud before God and you. This verges on narcissism, I know. But please indulge me. Maybe it will create a fellowship of encouragement among those at a similar place and stimulate reflection about answering God’s call.

I’m embarrassed to admit that I’m a little scared. At 57 years, I feel about my life like Lou Holtz said he felt as coach at the University of Minnesota: “It isn’t the end of the world, but you can see it from here.” I’m in the Minnesota of my days, the end for me is definitely in sight.

The time was when I wondered if people wondered if I was too young for whatever it was I wanted to do. Now the question lurks: Am I too old?

Once the temptation was to push through with bluster and determination. Now it is to hold back, hold on, and play it safe. I hate that! I want to live the rest of my days as Karl Barth urged in the vocation section of Church Dogmatics.

He said growing older is like a river approaching the falls. Can the river hold back? Of course not! “As if it were possible to freeze or solidify at the point where the river of responsibility should flow more torrentially than ever in view of the approaching falls, of the proximity of the coming Judge!” The time now in my life is not for small measures, but for abandon. Forgive me, Father, for thinking otherwise.

Besides, how much can I mess up my life when I have so little left to live, relatively? Only the young can make the really big mistakes, with all those years ahead to suffer the consequences. Seriously.

But the truth is the real fear at times like this isn’t about me, but about my Father in heaven. Will he provide what I need for a whole new challenge—now, at this time in my life?

Sometimes I’m like the leper who said to Jesus, “If you want to, you can make me well again.” Other times I’m like the distraught father who said, “Do something if you can.” Are you unwilling, Jesus? Are you unable? I know the answer is no to both questions. I’ve preached those texts. But still …

I believe, Lord. Help my unbelief.

Christ calls us not to a place, but to himself. His command is “Follow me,” not “Go over there.” God told Abram to leave his home to go to a place “that I will show you.” The critical question was not where, but who would show where. To follow Christ has always been a journey without maps, but with him.

Driving home one night, I was listening to oldies on the radio. It’s amazing the memories old songs can bring back. The DJ’s selection of songs had me right back in my senior year of college. I was really feeling 1966. What great roommates! What a great college! What fun! What joy! I was singing out loud, tears rolling down my cheeks.

Then I remembered: I was miserable that year. I’d broken up with my girlfriend, I was unsure about my future, and twice almost gotten into fistfights. I was a very tense young man.

Too bad I didn’t know then how faithful God would be, how well life would turn out. I thought, Wouldn’t it be great to relive 1966, relax and enjoy things, knowing everything would be okay? Then I said, “You can’t go back, Ben.” But then the retort: But you can live the rest of your life knowing everything will be just that fine.

So far, he’s been so good. What about tomorrow? Places may change, but he won’t. Thank you, Lord.

Ben Patterson is dean of the chapel at Hope College, P.O. Box 9000, Holland, MI 49422

NOTE: For your convenience, Getting Real: An Interactive Guide to Relational Ministry, by Ken Baugh and Rich Hurst, is available in the ChristianityToday.com Bookstore.