a day in the life of...
Yesterday morning i was abruptly awakened by the telephone, so much for sweet sleeping dreams. it was a lovely lady from our congregation, whose daughter was 'missing' and had been out all night. she was terrified. rape. murder. all the things that parents dread so much, and are in the news just enough to make them seem real possibilities. i went round, and we searched, went to the daughters college. called the police. prayed. it is amazing - often times I'm with Peterson in the idea that a lot of "pastoral work" is actually "social work" and anyone could do it... he suggests however, that a true pastor (this is all going to be a crude paraphrase) works in liminal places and prays, interceding in that way. AND, that a pastor can only do that from being in a place of prayer themselves... I think I see that more and more.
Anyway, on with the story... early in the afternoon we heard from the (now) repenting child. all was well. [but the college, the police, the mother, and I are all going to make sure that it's a one-off :-)]
However, when I had called home to tell APBL that I was going to be later than planned, he told me that another mother in the flock had rung - her daughter, who suffers from bi-polar disorder, was also reported missing and the police had been, and could I come around. I went - but as I was leaving had a phone call from yet another person, this time, a hospital rush with emergency appendicitis, and could I visit.
Well -from the old lady - "before I could sleep pastor, I read me some psalms, and then I tell me, go you sleep now and TRUST de Lord" (her daughter, it transpires has run away and won't be seen, but has been found), to the bloated stomach of the post-operative patient... I again prayed for people. And again, discovered that the words of prayer are rooted somewhere far beyond my mind.
Then, since I was in the area of the hospital (about 8 miles from Longsight) I phoned a lady there - married to pastor - she asked me if I could come over NOW... I did, in all innocence, only to walk in on a nightmare, since three days earlier her esteemed husband had announced his moving in with another women. dios mio Poor lady. All of the marks of betrayal are etched on her face, the grooves of tears, the fragility of her voice. Poor lady. Poor lady. I listened, and cried with her, and -since her son is a member of our congregation felt like healing is a long, long road for their family. Such betrayal. And, then, I prayed with her.
I came home late, to join in with a gathering of young adults - eating macaroni and cheese, and laughing and joking, out to watch a history of violence, and suddenly the silence and stillness of the house seemed such bliss.
A day of need. And now, I need a day of prayer. the problem so often is that need seems to supersede prayer. i know though, that my tap-roots need to be deep. so deep.
finally, incidentally finished Soil and Soul. Inspiring.
Anyway, on with the story... early in the afternoon we heard from the (now) repenting child. all was well. [but the college, the police, the mother, and I are all going to make sure that it's a one-off :-)]
However, when I had called home to tell APBL that I was going to be later than planned, he told me that another mother in the flock had rung - her daughter, who suffers from bi-polar disorder, was also reported missing and the police had been, and could I come around. I went - but as I was leaving had a phone call from yet another person, this time, a hospital rush with emergency appendicitis, and could I visit.
Well -from the old lady - "before I could sleep pastor, I read me some psalms, and then I tell me, go you sleep now and TRUST de Lord" (her daughter, it transpires has run away and won't be seen, but has been found), to the bloated stomach of the post-operative patient... I again prayed for people. And again, discovered that the words of prayer are rooted somewhere far beyond my mind.
Then, since I was in the area of the hospital (about 8 miles from Longsight) I phoned a lady there - married to pastor - she asked me if I could come over NOW... I did, in all innocence, only to walk in on a nightmare, since three days earlier her esteemed husband had announced his moving in with another women. dios mio Poor lady. All of the marks of betrayal are etched on her face, the grooves of tears, the fragility of her voice. Poor lady. Poor lady. I listened, and cried with her, and -since her son is a member of our congregation felt like healing is a long, long road for their family. Such betrayal. And, then, I prayed with her.
I came home late, to join in with a gathering of young adults - eating macaroni and cheese, and laughing and joking, out to watch a history of violence, and suddenly the silence and stillness of the house seemed such bliss.
A day of need. And now, I need a day of prayer. the problem so often is that need seems to supersede prayer. i know though, that my tap-roots need to be deep. so deep.
finally, incidentally finished Soil and Soul. Inspiring.
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