Seasons. Fall approaches in Wisconsin. The leaves will turn, and then fall. The air will become cooler, and suddenly, one morning, we will wake up with frost on the ground. By noon, it will be seventy-five, but the memory of the frost will not soon disappear, as it will be us for the next six months.
This season of my life is also fall. The leaves are changing color, everything is changing so quickly. What once seemed so important, now seems so trivial. And what once was beyond the horizon looms ever nearer. My life is not what it was a year ago. My daughter is one year older, but light years more mature. I see it in her face, her walk, her attitude, and her smile. She is growing up, and I am growing old. Oh, it’s not that bad. It’s just the truth, and I am able to embrace life a little more loosely, knowing that each day here is one day closer to the last day here. One day closer to that day.
But I am here now, in a place I don’t want to be, and yet, I long to be here as much as I ever have. How is that possible? How can one not fear death, nay, welcome it, and still love being here as much as I do? How much you have taught me, God, in such a little time. How much You have shown me of your creation, things that I never noticed before. The humor of birds and squirrels, the antics of a deer, the prowling of a house cat, the desire a dog has to be so near to us.
There is so much I have not seen. I have not seen the ocean, or climbed Everest. I have not stood in the place where you prayed, or cried where they crucified you, Jesus. I haven’t flown to the moon, or sailed the ocean. But I have lived.
I haven’t gathered the remnant, or preached in the streets. I haven’t suffered much for Your name, or died a martyr’s death. But I have lived.
I do not have a checklist, you see, because I do not need one. I am here but for a breath of life, I will suck it in to the deepest part of my lungs, and hold it there as long as I can. I will do as much as the Lord allows, and then I will be with Him.
The Boy’s Club is going to change this fall. I am stepping back a little. I will still be there, but it’s time to let the boys be men. They know how to be a community of believers, now. What we set out to do has been accomplished. It’s time to start thinking of moving on, to a new place, a new challenge, a new direction.
For a little while, it’s time for me to be in the back again, resting, learning, and hoping. Someone asked me to lead another group. I have not responded yet, but I will be saying no. I’ve been leading for almost three years. It’s time to be in the back again, quietly soaking up all that I can in the little time I will have to do it. I was not ready to lead when I started, I’m still not ready, and I may never be again.
I long for the days when I was new to faith. It seemed so much simpler then, even though the pain in my life at that time was almost all-consuming. Now that pain is a distant memory, and I am ready to move on.
I’m not leaving my church, but I am leaving ministry as I knew it, at least for a little while. As I said, I will still be there with them, only in a much more subtle way. I will still start the group up, and introduce new men into the group. But I will no longer be teaching, if that is what I was doing.
I believe so very strongly in the power of the Holy Spirit to teach, guide, and lead. It’s time the boy’s club sees that it wasn’t me leading at all. It’s time they see that it was the Holy Spirit that formed us, led us, and grew us. We’ve been talking about Spiritual formation. It’s time to live it.
I will be rejoining a group I left over a year ago, Mike Hoffteizer’s group. This is a group we both started, and when I left, I only left to prepare to start the Boy’s club. I have missed Mike so much. I have missed all of the people that were in that group. Some are no longer there, but there are a few who remain. I consider Mike my mentor, a man who knows so much about scripture that he has forgotten more than I will ever know. Mike is a man who almost died of liver disease. A man the doctors said by all rights should have been dead four months before he ever received his new liver. He is a butterfly, transformed by his miracle through humility.
Mike is a miracle. Shortly after his life saving transplant, we started our group. Coming to know him has been one of the true joys of my life, and I long to return, one more time, even if it is only for a little while. They say we can never return to where we began. I say, sometimes we need to return, to remember the ones we love, our humble beginnings, and the One who died for us, so He could bring us back to Him, where we belong.
I need some time off from leading. I have too many open questions in my life. There are too many things I need the counsel of God in, I need to focus on those things right now. I hope I am not letting anyone down. I love my group, I love the guys in it all. But it’s time for fall. I have not told my pastor yet. I touched on it briefly tonight with a few of the guys, and the reaction was maybe what I would call disbelief. Shame on me, I told them I would lead a lot less this fall. That is only partly true. I will only be facilitating the group. They are going to lead themselves, by the Spirit. I think we are going to be fine.
So fall brings change, and change in this case is new, and yet very familiar. I want to write a book. The one I was writing I have trashed. The journey I am on is never-ending, but there is still a story that can be told, and I will tell it. I promised God I would, and I will not break that promise. Welcome to this season in my life.
This season of my life is also fall. The leaves are changing color, everything is changing so quickly. What once seemed so important, now seems so trivial. And what once was beyond the horizon looms ever nearer. My life is not what it was a year ago. My daughter is one year older, but light years more mature. I see it in her face, her walk, her attitude, and her smile. She is growing up, and I am growing old. Oh, it’s not that bad. It’s just the truth, and I am able to embrace life a little more loosely, knowing that each day here is one day closer to the last day here. One day closer to that day.
But I am here now, in a place I don’t want to be, and yet, I long to be here as much as I ever have. How is that possible? How can one not fear death, nay, welcome it, and still love being here as much as I do? How much you have taught me, God, in such a little time. How much You have shown me of your creation, things that I never noticed before. The humor of birds and squirrels, the antics of a deer, the prowling of a house cat, the desire a dog has to be so near to us.
There is so much I have not seen. I have not seen the ocean, or climbed Everest. I have not stood in the place where you prayed, or cried where they crucified you, Jesus. I haven’t flown to the moon, or sailed the ocean. But I have lived.
I haven’t gathered the remnant, or preached in the streets. I haven’t suffered much for Your name, or died a martyr’s death. But I have lived.
I do not have a checklist, you see, because I do not need one. I am here but for a breath of life, I will suck it in to the deepest part of my lungs, and hold it there as long as I can. I will do as much as the Lord allows, and then I will be with Him.
The Boy’s Club is going to change this fall. I am stepping back a little. I will still be there, but it’s time to let the boys be men. They know how to be a community of believers, now. What we set out to do has been accomplished. It’s time to start thinking of moving on, to a new place, a new challenge, a new direction.
For a little while, it’s time for me to be in the back again, resting, learning, and hoping. Someone asked me to lead another group. I have not responded yet, but I will be saying no. I’ve been leading for almost three years. It’s time to be in the back again, quietly soaking up all that I can in the little time I will have to do it. I was not ready to lead when I started, I’m still not ready, and I may never be again.
I long for the days when I was new to faith. It seemed so much simpler then, even though the pain in my life at that time was almost all-consuming. Now that pain is a distant memory, and I am ready to move on.
I’m not leaving my church, but I am leaving ministry as I knew it, at least for a little while. As I said, I will still be there with them, only in a much more subtle way. I will still start the group up, and introduce new men into the group. But I will no longer be teaching, if that is what I was doing.
I believe so very strongly in the power of the Holy Spirit to teach, guide, and lead. It’s time the boy’s club sees that it wasn’t me leading at all. It’s time they see that it was the Holy Spirit that formed us, led us, and grew us. We’ve been talking about Spiritual formation. It’s time to live it.
I will be rejoining a group I left over a year ago, Mike Hoffteizer’s group. This is a group we both started, and when I left, I only left to prepare to start the Boy’s club. I have missed Mike so much. I have missed all of the people that were in that group. Some are no longer there, but there are a few who remain. I consider Mike my mentor, a man who knows so much about scripture that he has forgotten more than I will ever know. Mike is a man who almost died of liver disease. A man the doctors said by all rights should have been dead four months before he ever received his new liver. He is a butterfly, transformed by his miracle through humility.
Mike is a miracle. Shortly after his life saving transplant, we started our group. Coming to know him has been one of the true joys of my life, and I long to return, one more time, even if it is only for a little while. They say we can never return to where we began. I say, sometimes we need to return, to remember the ones we love, our humble beginnings, and the One who died for us, so He could bring us back to Him, where we belong.
I need some time off from leading. I have too many open questions in my life. There are too many things I need the counsel of God in, I need to focus on those things right now. I hope I am not letting anyone down. I love my group, I love the guys in it all. But it’s time for fall. I have not told my pastor yet. I touched on it briefly tonight with a few of the guys, and the reaction was maybe what I would call disbelief. Shame on me, I told them I would lead a lot less this fall. That is only partly true. I will only be facilitating the group. They are going to lead themselves, by the Spirit. I think we are going to be fine.
So fall brings change, and change in this case is new, and yet very familiar. I want to write a book. The one I was writing I have trashed. The journey I am on is never-ending, but there is still a story that can be told, and I will tell it. I promised God I would, and I will not break that promise. Welcome to this season in my life.
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