I’m Going To Be a Pastor…

I’m Going To Be A Pastor


In the wee hours of Sunday, March 30, 2014, I spent several tear-filled moments on my knees. It felt like hours. Something wouldn’t let me sleep. I felt led to pray. I realized God was using my sleeplessness to make me realize it was time to acknowledge what He whispered so many years before…“I will use you”.

I thought I was being called into vocational ministry, assuming I would become a pastor. A few months went by and I was in the UMC’s Course of Study program to become a Licensed Local Pastor. That plan has since gone by the wayside, as I enrolled in Liberty University to obtain a degree in religion. I no longer can declare that I know how God will use me. I may end up being a pastor someday, but I very well may not. But this story is really not about me anyway. It’s about something God showed me recently.

I grew up in a small town in Central Pennsylvania, not real far from where I live now. Many folks who come from this town take pride in it, celebrating and venerating it as though it’s the center of the universe. Most of my immediate family members still live there. I don’t mean any disrespect to any of those people, but I couldn’t wait to leave. I always found many of my peers and the other citizens there to be intolerant of anyone who was not like them. Of course, we often form behaviors based on our surroundings, so I developed an attitude of intolerance as well. I found out later that intolerance isn’t limited to my hometown…it’s a worldwide sin problem.

One specific group of people who were treated with little regard were those with special needs. I was terrified of interacting with anyone whom my peers and I referred to as a “retard”. Sadly, I joined in the teasing, name-calling, etc., that happened to these children on a regular basis. I never learned to see them for what they were…precious children of God.

Never, that is, until I met a young lady named Stacy Litz, who is now my wife. Stacy is likely the most tolerant person I have ever met. The word “retard” was forbidden in the Litz household. First off, because it’s just plain wrong, but also for a more personal reason. My in-laws lost their first daughter, Lori Ann, who was born prematurely, and were always told that if she had lived she would have had severe disabilities.

Through our nearly 30 years together, Stacy has shown me so much about loving and accepting all the people you come into contact with. That being said, I still tend to shy away from most of those people who my background tells me aren’t on ‘my level’.

But God has such different plans from us. I now live in a larger small town. Large enough to have two Sheetz convenience stores. For anyone who has ever bought coffee from a Sheetz, you understand the importance of this. I find it hard to make my own when I can go there and buy their amazing brew.

A few weeks ago, as I waited in line at Sheetz, a young man who I have seen around our town came up beside me and began to talk to me. I recognized him as someone I had seen many times in the grocery store, or just walking on the street. I heard him say something I had heard him say before, though never directly to me: “I’m going to be a pastor”.

It was at that very moment that God humbled me more than He ever had before. See, this young man, while appearing “normal”, is developmentally disabled. I don’t know know him. I don’t even know his name. I don’t know who has interested him in church. But he tells everyone that he’s going to be a pastor. The first time I heard him say this was a few years ago when I was in Wal-Mart. He was close enough that I could hear him, but he wasn’t talking to me. Then, I thought, “aww, that’s cute”.

As I stood beside him in Sheetz, he said those words, and he looked at me and said “you could be a pastor too”. I told him that may be part of the plan…I just don’t know. I paid for my purchases, left the store, went to my car, and felt tears running down my cheeks. I know now that if I ever have the chance to converse with this young man again, and he says “I’m going to be a pastor”, my response will be “son, you already are”.

You see, we never know who will minister to us. Christ will use those we least expect to teach us humility and many other things. He taught me something important through this young man that day. He may never be credentialed as a pastor, but like I said, he already is a minister.

Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others. – Philippians 2:3-4, NIV


Behind the 8-ball

Untitled design (5)Every day, I wake up kind of feeling like Drew Barrymore’s character in “50 First Dates”. Not that I totally forget who I am and every detail of my life…actually, quite the opposite. Instead, I wish I could forget much of it. The bad stuff. What puts me behind the 8-ball. Instead, I wake up reminded of my shortcomings and failures, and the disdain I hold for myself.

This morning was no different. After an evening of being pissed off, and praying that God’s mercy would either be Christ’s return or just not waking up, I woke up. Once again, thinking, why God?

I really have no idea. I have trouble with my own value. I’m good at certain things, many of which don’t reflect my introversion. They’ve put me in places where I’m uncomfortable being. I probably spend way too much time trying to figure out why God would put me there instead of just resting in the fact that He did.

As my day has progressed, I’ve sensed God’s strength. Perhaps my mission is to show others that God loves even pissed-off, grumpy, mad-at-the-world SOB’s. I certainly can’t be the only one there is. In the meantime, God is giving me the strength to work through the things that make me unhappy. To concentrate on the things that must be done, despite looming deadlines. To interact with those who I’d rather not. To follow through, when I’d much rather just say “screw it” and walk away.

Only He knows why. We aren’t always happy with the strength He gives us. Today, I’m not, but I will let Him use me anyway, asking His forgiveness for taking any focus away from Him.

His Power…my weakness…WHAT?

“DOESN’T PLAY WELL WITH OTHERS”. A friend once told me that another friend of ours used this phrase to describe me.

Spot on!

I really couldn’t have said it better myself. I don’t like it, but it’s true. I suck at relationships of all kinds. I always have…and I likely always will.

2 Corinthians 12:9 is my favorite Bible verse. The cover photo on this blog, that I think my daughter did a pretty nice job of taking, shows this verse tattooed on my arm…His power made perfect in my weakness. He’s pretty powerful, and I’m pretty damn weak.

Relationships are my biggest weakness.

No one wants to admit they’re weak, even though we all know we are. Any show of personal strength we put forth is a façade, projected for others to see who we want them to think we are. We learn these behaviors early on, sometimes because of good influence and sometimes because of bad experiences.

I’m a pessimist. The cup is half empty. Throughout my childhood, there was always the fear of losing friendships, the threat of taking someone away, and reasons to distrust people were always brought to the forefront. I’ve been afraid to get close to anyone since I was a kid.

I know that despite my past, I’m ultimately responsible for my own actions. Successes and failures. Friends and foes. I can’t control anyone; only how I react to them. Many…no, most times, I react badly. I fail to give grace. I’ll whine about it, stew over it, refuse to talk to people…believe me, I wish I were different. But I’m not. I’m me. I’m not used to peace…instead, keeping myself separate, where being hurt isn’t a possibility, has always been priority #1. Fuming in anger alone is what I’m used to doing when I am hurt.

If I have a relationship with you…any type…I’ve thought about how either you or I are going to screw this up. What are you going to say that pisses me off? What am I going to do that you don’t like? Did you ever really like me anyway? How will I escape? Do I just stop talking to you? Good Lord, how do I avoid you? I see you all the time. No one…and I mean no one…is outside this group, so don’t think this is aimed just at you.

It’s no wonder I didn’t think it was real when I heard God say “I will use you” when I was a teenager. Wait…God, You’re not really who they say you are. You won’t fix me; I’ve asked you, begged you, demanded it from you. You can do anything…all I have to do is pray. But why aren’t I miraculously fixed? Nah, no way in hell You’re going to use me. I’ll just go through the motions until I die and You throw me into hell.

Thirty years. That’s how long it took me to realize that You really do love me. Despite my flaws, despite my struggles, and despite the hatred that I have toward You, You love me anyway. You died for me. Took my beating, took my nails, uttered “τετέλεσται”, and gave up Your spirit. You were buried, and rose again, and You gave me life. It took me thirty years because I have been led to believe that I owe something for this gift. That I should picture You on the cross and feel guilty. Keep that barrier between You and me, because I owe and can’t pay. I keep screwing up, so I believe I’m destined to remain in this debtor’s prison. Then Your wrecking ball of grace hit me. But what is happening? I don’t understand this. I feel…peace…this can’t possibly be right.

Then…I realize…relationships are happening. This is so uncomfortable. DOESN’T PLAY WELL WITH OTHERS. Are you being fake? Can I trust you? I guess I’ll give it a try. But there are bumps in the road. My true colors show. Disagreements ensue. Doors are closed and walls go back up. Just like my past life, church life is no different. Yet, I keep getting drawn back in. More relationships. More potential for hurt. Why am I going back? I don’t understand. This is crazy.

I always thought my strongest weakness was the secret I carried with me. Certainly, that’s a big part of it. Relationships with men are difficult because I am afraid of attraction, attachment, discovery, and rejection.

I looked at my arm recently, and thought “relationships are my weakness because they require effort, understanding, and grace”. I realize that along with the joy there will be pain. With peace, strife. Being known by others requires vulnerability.

Despite my weakness, I have felt God moving me forward. Over the past two years, I have developed more relationships than I ever thought possible. Good associations. Ones which bring growth and healing to both parties. His power made perfect in my weakness.

But then there is this…DOESN’T PLAY WELL WITH OTHERS.

About a month ago, something happened that caused me a lot of pain. A lot of misinformation and misunderstanding occurred. Forgiveness has happened, and by all means, the pain should be in the past. True to form, though…I’m me. I’ve convinced myself that I should never have shared my story with anyone, because then this would not have happened. I even posted this prayer on my Facebook wall:

Dear God,

This story that you gave me to tell…you can have it back. I really don’t want it anymore. In fact, I never did. You picked the wrong person. Remember, I’m a reclusive introvert. I just can’t.


This is about as honest as I can be. I really don’t want this story. My daily prayer for mercy is that God takes me out of this world of pain and hurt. But here I am. Another day, awake and alive. I’m here for a reason. “I will use you”…so despite what I’m thinking, God is in control of this. The way He has me tell me story might be different from what I had anticipated, and I guess if it’s going to take pain for me to understand that, pain there will be. If it took misunderstanding to bring clarity, so be it.

Acts 2:47-27, “The Fellowship of the Believers”, is written to make us understand that we are to be a community of believers:

They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. Everyone was filled with awe at the many wonders and signs performed by the apostles. All the believers were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need. Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved.

The word “community” makes me uncomfortable. Community is the place where somehow, God takes someone who doesn’t really like himself, hates his past, and feels aimless about his future, and puts him in front of other people to spread the message of grace. That’s me. Why God chose me, I don’t know. But He did.

Pray for me as I attempt to understand what God has in store, because I don’t play well with others. Someday, I hope I find out why He chose me, but until then, I have to remember that He is God, and said…“But he said to me, ‘my grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness’. Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses so that Christ’s power may rest no me.”

Martin’s Mountain

Reclaiming My Ordinary Life

2015-07-28 13.57.22I needed healing. I had come to a point in my life where I shut God out. God made His way in. He showed me His grace and His mercy. He showed me what it was like to be considered a brother. But most importantly, He healed the most important thing in my life…my relationship with my family.

It was through interaction with other Christians that God facilitated this change. I am forever grateful for that. But somehow, I lost sight of what God had done. Instead of being focused on the hold my struggle with same-sex attraction had on my life, a new idol was developing. I began to see myself in some sort of ministry where I proclaimed God’s victory in my life and helped countless others facilitate their own change.

There is nothing wrong with being a “crusader”. But events of the last couple days have shown me that it’s not my nature. I’m an introvert. I love people, but I hate crowds. I love hearing stories of redemption, but I need to realize that I’m not anyone’s personal Holy Spirit or Jesus.

So starting today, I’m reclaiming my life. I belong to Christ. I’m Stacy’s husband. I’m Kara and Dane’s father. I will give my all for 40 hours a week to my employer. I will continue to donate my time as treasurer of my church. I will work to get a men’s ministry started in my church. But I am not a leader. Not a crusader. Not a teacher. Prior goals cancelled. I’ll finish up this Associate’s degree and have a piece of paper that says I understand religion. Then, I’ll begin to repay my student loans, live my life, and show that God uses ordinary people and lets them remain ordinary.

I’m sorry if others had different goals for me, but I needed to realize that I’m just me; an ordinary husband, father, and sinner seeking Christ, standing on God’s grace alone.

Mom, I think I might be…Lutheran…

luterhanIn May 2001, my mom and I took a trip to New Jersey for my cousin Malissa’s funeral. I don’t remember much of our conversation that day. I probably blocked out as much of what my mom said as possible. One thing she said was like a knife being thrust into me and twisted. Nearly 32 years old, and my mother still treats me like a child that she can guilt into what she wants. WTF. What she said was:

“well, I’m glad you and Stacy are going to church, but I really wish you were going somewhere else”

So the United Methodist Church was not quite up to snuff in Mom’s eyes. I know what it was mom was really saying. Not fundamentalist enough. Not religious enough. Not HOLY enough. Heaven forbid…a church where Christ is worshiped is not enough, simply because of her perception…something she’s been told. They do things DIFFERENTLY.

It comes as no surprise to me that I’ve battled religion all my life. Because of religion, I was unable to see God. God was presented to me as a stern judge, and those who followed this doctrine somehow got the right to be the stern judge as well. It was perfectly clear to me as a teen that there was no way I could attain this “Christian perfection”. I couldn’t wait to get away from it.

Stacy was Methodist. There was a little church (now closed) not far from our home that she attended. She had no sense of doctrine…only Christ. Her youth leaders would take their group to different churches. Yes, she noticed differences, but saw worship as giving thanks to God for what He gave to us, regardless of the location or format.

My wife’s ability to see God for what He truly is…a gracious, loving father who wants His children to love Him…was lost on me. Because I was coming out of a fundamentalist background, I looked at her Methodism as “not good enough”, even though I knew I wasn’t good enough either. I doubted her faith. I refused to discuss it with her. She practiced her faith anyway. In spite of my unbelief, she believed. She taught our children about Jesus in our home, whether or not we were attending church at the time. She had to do it alone, because I didn’t know what I believed. In a way, I’m actually glad that she taught them. They won’t have to try to break free of fundamentalism.

Gradually, God broke down the wall that I had created out of my stubbornness and refusal to see Him as loving. He continually reveals Himself to me in ways that I don’t expect. He teaches me to look at things in different ways, despite the deep-seeded fundamentalist views I have wrestled with since I was a kid.

Theologically, I still don’t know where I am. On my Twitter profile, I call myself a “theological mixed breed”. I’m Methodist by church membership, love my church and church family, and have no intent to leave. I’ve gotten to know lots of people who practice Reformed theology. I love those brothers and sisters as well. I still have fundamentalist friends, and while I don’t agree with much of what they believe, I love the people. I am intrigued by the traditions of the Catholic and Orthodox faiths, and am finally able to view my brothers and sisters in those denominations as real Christians. Yes, if you see me pray, I am really crossing myself.

But Lutheran…I never really knew much about this denomination. I’ve got Lutheran friends, but never really researched their beliefs. I still don’t profess to know much about Lutheranism, but after I got back from hanging out with a bunch of them at a conference, I realized one thing. I think I might be Lutheran.

That brings me back to the title of this post. When I realized how much Lutheran beliefs lined up with my understanding of grace, it made me think of my mom. She’s in heaven now…but I can just imagine her reaction if I could go to her and say “Mom, I think I might be Lutheran”. I don’t envision it being good. In spite of what her reaction might have been, I would hope that she’d see that regardless of denomination, God reached me through grace, and sustains me through grace. God reached and sustained her through grace too. If I stay Methodist, that will be good, but if I turn out Lutheran, that will be good too. The main thing to remember is that it’s not about me, but about Christ.

Bottom line…when I do something, I need to think…am I doing this to bring attention to me, or what Christ did for me?

Grace and Brotherhood

Grace and Brotherhood

Brotherhood is a phrase that has been largely absent from my life. I had my reasons. Life is fragile. Closeness brings risk. Risk of being known. Being known would bring shame. Shame means the fragility of life could shatter.

Certainly, I’ve had male friends in life. In school, at work, at church…contact with people of both sexes is unavoidable. Shielding myself from getting too close to other guys became my life’s goal. If I could have, I would have become a recluse; but I had these things called church (well, sometimes anyway), work, wife, children…all things that required me to interact. Still, I had three main categories that I classed other men into…fear, fantasy, and nothing.

God was putting grace to work in my life. Even though I was often outside my comfort zone doing things with other parents where our kids were in the same activities; taking part in work training with people I didn’t know; and even stepping into the church, He gave me the strength to get through because He was shaping me…even when I certainly didn’t want to be shaped.

One of the reasons that I didn’t want to surrender to God was because I knew in doing so, I would need to embrace other men as brothers in Christ. I thought this would be difficult. God had some suprises in store for me.

The first surprise was John. I consider John my “original” brother in Christ because it was his selfless action that made my need for God so blatantly apparent. John was the first man that I was able to divulge my ugly struggle to. I was afraid, but his response of grace and love gave me hope.

Slowly, I began to look at other guys in new light. Men from my church embraced and supported me as I began to explore my faith in Jesus Christ. Those categories I had always used before were wiped away, as I became aware that I had a new category called brotherhood. I am able to look at other men as God’s precious creations that He has plans for…and I may be involved in helping them realize those plans.

Brotherhood took an even more surprising turn as I took a step to get support from a men’s ministry where I found freedom and safety along with discipleship and spiritual growth. No condemnation. Grace…love…mercy…and I’m finding that I can now share these characteristics that Jesus expects us to so that others may experience Him as the Wonderful Counselor.

MercyMe has a song called “Beautiful”. In it, they say “you’re beautiful, you’re beautiful, you are treasured, you are sacred, you are His.” You can listen to those words as though they’re being sung to you, but I think more importantly, we should all listen to them as they apply to our brothers (and sisters) in Christ…




Note – this was originally posted a little over a year ago on my first blog.

Lust…and ministry?

lust....My sin is real. My sin is painful. But as big a part of my life as it is, Christ is bigger than my sin. His death on the cross once and for all wiped out what separated me from the Father. That sin that separated me from God was not something that I chose to live with. Neither did you. God chose, however, to send Christ as our substitute…a sacrificial lamb in our place, so we would not have to pay the ultimate price for our sin.

Some people think they have the right to judge. If someone sins and confesses that sin publicly, the church should be there to support them through their repentance, and if discipline is required, a procedure should be followed. If that person is a high profile public figure, the church’s response should be no different. What saddens me, though, is that a certain faction in the church thinks it’s perfect enough to continually dredge up prior sins, and to be the judge of when someone is repentant enough to “get back into it”? For me, I would prefer to be ministered to someone who acknowledges their sin, no matter how recent.

So here’s my dilemma: ministry. I’m not sure where God is leading, but in two short years, I’ve gone from thinking I hated people, to drinking in stories of God’s grace in action. Tearful repentance testimonies, listening to confessions of sin from brothers or sisters I barely know, and just plain relief on faces of people who once thought they were too far gone. I want to minister to these people, as well as be ministered to by them. I want to help them see Christ, every time they sin. Every time they seek Him, I want them to experience His love in the way I have.

But I sin. I struggle with temptation of a sexual nature. Lust is an awful thing to deal with, regardless of your circumstance. For me, there’s a feeling of anguish when I experience it. I love my wife dearly. She’s the most loving, kind, and amazing person I’ve ever met. She makes me happy, and her relationship with Christ makes me even happier. Yet, my sin takes me to places where I never imagine myself going again. Imagining myself with someone else. Worse yet, imagining myself with someone male. A specific male.

So what level of repentance is required before I do any kind of ministry? My wife knows my struggle and supports me, even though I can’t imagine why she lets me touch her. Certainly, the men in my support groups feel comfortable enough to interact with me; to rejoice in the victories, and pray about the shortcomings. I lead the men’s section of my small group…same thing. I taught Sunday school and helped lead the service at my church this morning. But what if God is calling me into pastoral ministry? What if God wants me to speak about my sin? Am I repentant enough? I’ve never crossed the line physically, but I’ve certainly looked at enough pornography and fantasized enough that I know I’ve sinned against God and my wife. Nothing can ever erase what I’ve thought about.

There are definitely people who think I have business ministering to anyone, but I think that God wants me to share my story. Not because of me, but because of Him, and what His mercy, grace, and power can do. So I’m going to follow the Holy Spirit’s leading, not because there is anything good about me…but because Jesus Christ died not only for me and my sin, but for you and your sin, and you need to hear that. If you think your sin is too big an issue for Him, you are wrong.


tetelestaiIt is finished…the last three words Christ spoke on the cross before He died (John 19:30). But what do they mean?

My understanding…Jesus’ death eliminated our debt. Ended the requirement for sacrifice to atone for our sins.

Why, then, do we insist on continuing the tradition of the sacrifice? You know what I’m talking about…God, I’ll be good if…God, I’ll give up this if…as though these sacrifices atone for our sin. If I just work harder at this…God will be pleased with me.

Folks, IT IS FINISHED! Yes, I’m yelling. I’m yelling at me, and I’m yelling at you. Stop trying to make sure God is pleased with you, and let Him open your eyes. Show others what you have in your Savior. Tell others about Him and the wonderful thing HE did.

I used to picture Christ on the cross, bloody and beaten, and feel horrified…guilty…shameful. Rightfully so, but over the last couple years, as I have realized more and more that what He did was a gift, I no longer feel those things. I feel gratitude. Sometimes I weep…sometimes I bow my head and humbly smile and whisper a prayer of thanks.

Today I got a text from one of my best friends. Several years ago, she patiently waited, witnessing to me through her actions and living, and prayers for me, until I recommitted my life to Christ. We have rejoiced so much over the last couple years…but her text today absolutely blew me away…

A very powerful statement in a message that I just listened to yesterday. And the power was just in three words that I have known for so many years of my life and just never really applied it to my life in the way that I just heard it in this message. Jesus’ last words when hanging on that cross were “it is finished”. His last words were not “do better”, “make me proud”, etc. With His words, He meant “I came to do for you what you couldn’t.” Yet we still think that we aren’t good enough for His salvation, or we don’t do enough to earn His love. We can’t forgive ourselves for certain things when He has already paid that price. We need to repent, accept, and continue to grow in Christ.

This is someone who has been a Christian for years. Somehow, our churches would have us to believe that “it’s on us”. It ain’t! IT IS FINISHED!


Twitter and Christ Hold Fast

Two weeks ago, I was sitting in the Orlando airport, praying that the people around me waiting for the flight didn’t notice me. I had just spent three days hearing amazing messages and meeting amazing people. Now, I was going home. I longed to see my family, but leaving the #CHF16 conference and folks behind had the tears flowing. I hoped the people around me didn’t notice that I was crying.

Fortunately, for the flight home I was able to get a window seat. Earphones in, staring out at either total blackness or the lit up cities below us, the tears continued. I just hoped that the couple next to me thought maybe my sniffles were just a cold.

A couple years ago, my wife got a Twitter account. It was something she was doing for a new role she had at work. I’ve been Facebooking for about 7 years…but I never saw a reason for having a Twitter. I set an account up to follow my wife.

Something happened. I started blogging a little over a year ago and linked my Twitter account. I started seeing people tweet about grace. I didn’t know these people, but I started following many of them.

Last summer, this page called “Christ Hold Fast” showed up in my feed. I am not sure why. I followed Paul Tripp, Tullian Tchividjian, and Preston Sprinkle…maybe it was one of them…or maybe it was someone in the group that I nicknamed “the grace people”. Anyway, I saw that they were having a conference. I thought it might be cool. Then I looked at the price. It was cheap. So I bought a ticket.

I sit here today, still in awe. I thought I knew so much about grace. God showed me much more at that conference, and revealed that there is way, way more for me to learn. I met some of the “grace people”. My Facebook friends list now includes a bunch of them. Lutherans, Presbyterians, but most importantly, broken people seeking God. Seeking not because on our own we want to seek Him, but by His grace He enables us to seek Him.


The tears continue to flow. I will forever cherish the time I had with these brothers and sisters in Christ. It’s hard to believe those two weeks have gone by so quickly. I don’t know when, or if, I’ll see you again this side of heaven…but I want you all to know that being at the conference, meeting all of you, and hearing the speakers means more than I can explain in words. The uplift I got there enabled me to move forward with establishing a men’s ministry that’s been on hold for a while…inspired me to start my blog over again…and gave me the strength to get through losing my grandmother.

God is good. More than good; He’s great. He is the very thing that sustains us because He loves us. And He gives people the ability to invent things like Facebook and Twitter to connect us to one another.


recovering legalist

Dear God, it’s still happening. What the hell?Recovering Legalist

The legacy of performance-based legalistic Christianity is that it seems as though it never truly leaves me. I described myself recently as a “desperately recovering legalist”. Sometimes, it rears its ugly head when I’m focused on myself, but most often it happens when I am interacting with or thinking about the lives and situations of others.

First off, an apology. To every single human being that I’ve ever interacted with…I’m sorry. I’m sorry for somehow thinking that I had the right to decide where your relationship with God stood. I’m sorry for thinking your denomination wasn’t “right”. I’m sorry for thinking that I had to “share” my faith with you in such a way that would probably make you think “psycho”. I’m sorry to those who had a habit or engaged in a behavior that was prohibited by the “rules”, which therefore meant you were destined for hell.

Good news…gospel…truth. While I’m not a life-long scripture hound, I’ve been making up for lost time in the last two years. Being involved with two men’s support groups, a small-group Bible study, and a Sunday school class where the themes seem to be supernaturally woven together has really opened my eyes. Nowhere do I see “beat your brother over the head with this Bible when he swears” or “pull the cigarette out of your friend’s mouth and tell them it’s a sin”. Nothing says to stand outside a theatre or rock concert and tell people going in they’re headed for hell for attending. None of this. It’s all made up. Yet, I still think that I have to do this…or worse yet, that it’s OK to do this. Just today, I was on the phone with a friend and he said a cuss word. The internal legalist gasped and told me to admonish him.

Jesus Christ. Savior, friend…wow. It really is very basic. Trust, and become like a child. Grow, but always remain like a child. Oh, no…I can’t…what about following the list of rules??? Plain and simple…forgive as you have been forgiven. Love as you have been loved. Walk alongside as you’ve been guided.

I look around me. I’m surrounded by people. But I see so much more than I saw before. I see God’s precious creations. His children whom He loves. Stories to listen to. Tears to share. That’s all. Share what He’s done for me with them…tell them He can do it for them too. Love them, and let them love me!

Please forgive me. God will finish what He started. But He’s not finished yet. Please pray for me. Pray that when Dana Carvey’s “Church Lady” pops into my head, declaring “well, isn’t that special?” after I hear about someone’s sin, I’ll remember that I have not walked in that person’s shoes, but maybe I need to.