Doing one's civic duty

This past weekend Belinda and I registered to vote in the upcoming municipal elections.  However, because we were both in different voting districts during the previous election (the general election held in 2009), we had to complete forms with our new address details, enabling us to vote in our current district (Pelham, Pietermartizburg - don't ask me what the ward number is - 36, I think?!).

The thought also crossed our minds that by the time the next election comes around in 2014, we will have to repeat this process since we will have again moved to a different voting district.  Seems like this is likely to happen quite often, now that I am in the Methodist ministry...

But while we were in the public-spirited groove, we also popped in to CANSA's annual Shavathon where, for a donation, volunteers will shave your head as an act of solidarity with cancer victims (many of whom end up losing their hair as a result of the chemotherapy treatment they receive).

I was gung-ho, partly because I needed a haircut anyway, partly because a shaven head is MUCH cooler when the outside temperature still hovers around the mid-to-upper 30s, and partly to honour an old friend who had a sign in his shop that read "God only made so many perfect heads - the rest He covered with hair".  Belinda was less enthusiastic, however - not only did she have her fair share of baldness some 35 years ago during her own bout with leukaemia, but she had also recently pampered herself with a new hair-do which included highlights - something that she was NOT about to ruin with pink and green streaks!

"Imagine there's no heaven ..."

Okay folks, relax - I'm not about to reveal a confession that I've suddenly renounced (or lost) my faith in Jesus.  Far from it.  But there has been this strange throught mulling around my head for the past 10 days or so.

What I've been pondering on is this: We all know the words of John 3: 16, "For God loved the world so much that he gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life" (NLT), but is this the only reason why we believe in Jesus?  In other words, the question I'm asking is whether we would still love Jesus if there was no promise of heaven, no promise of eternal life?

I ask this question because I wonder sometimes whether we love Jesus for what He can do for us, rather than for who He is.  How many altar calls have we heard where the preacher asks the question, "if you were to die tonight and you don't know where you are going, ask Jesus to come into your life".  Then we wonder why it is that so many of these "new converts" fall by the wayside, with the church acting as some kind of revolving door in the process.

Think of this from the "other side" for a moment.  Jesus doesn't love us because we are "good" people or because of the things we do.  Nor does He love us because we could possibly do something for Him if that love were to be reciprocated.  He loves us just as we are. "... God showed his great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners. And since we have been made right in God’s sight by the blood of Christ, he will certainly save us from God’s condemnation.  For since our friendship with God was restored by the death of his Son while we were still his enemies, we will certainly be saved through the life of his Son" (Romans 5: 8-10, NLT).

If Jesus loved us unconditionally without any guarantee that we would even respond in any what to that love, shouldn't our love for Jesus be on the same basis?  To love Jesus for who He is, rather than for what He promises?  Imagine how our relationship with Christ could grow.  Imagine if we could apply this same principle to our earthly relationships - loving one another, not for what we can get out of the relationship, but for what we can put into it.  Wouldn't our relationships - and the world - be a far better place?

Getting a bit over-zealous

This is what happens when you ask Chuck Norris to open your milk carton for you.  Well, not quite - I was having breakfast and the carton was not quite living up to its "easy-open" claim to fame, so I applied the universal principle to things that won't open - force it!

(For those of you who can't see the effects of my bowl of ProNutro this morning, look in the top right-hand corner - the space where the lid and the threaded bit SHOULD be.  Notice something missing?)

God speaking through music

I'd barely pressed "publish" on my previous post when I heard in my mind the voice of Jayne Farrell (of 80s Christian duo Farrell & Farrell) singing "Come Back, My First Love" - a cry to God to rekindle the spark that was planted when she first encountered Christ.

Here are the lyrics - a "first step" for me in my healing process.

Don't know exactly how it came to this, or when this change came over me,
Stepping, little by little, 'til I straddled the middle of the line,
So much compromise; standing on neither side,
A far cry from the way it began when I first took hold of Your hand.

Come back, my first love - my Saviour and love,
How far have I fallen? How languished my soul?
Come back, my first love - I need You, my love,
Bring back all those feelings that only You can bring.

My life was different when I first believed, Your joy was ever in my heart,
And the voice of Your Spirit was so clear I could hear it calling me to walk in Your light,
Try to do what was right ... but lately I've been falling away,
An abandoned ship that's drifted astray.

Come back, my first love - my Saviour and love,
How far have I fallen? How languished my soul?
Come back, my first love - I need You, my love,
Bring back all those feelings.

(Come back)

Come back, my first love - I need You, my love,
Bring back all those feelings, only You can bring,
Bring back all those feelings that only You can bring.

Picking up the pieces ... and being "born again" again

After yesterday's plaintive post appeared on this blog, I was called into Ross' office in a pastoral attempt on his part to arrest what was shaping up to be the complete unravelling of one of his seminarians.  And while I won't go into detail concerning our discussions, I give thanks to God that there are still ministers in our church that have truly pastoral hearts.  I'm especially grateful to Ross for taking the time out to help me through this process, particularly given his already hectic schedule in running the seminary.  His pastoral care will be cherished by me for years to come.

But now it's time to start picking up the pieces and moving towards me gaining a little perspective here.  The first step in this process is for me to earnestly and prayerfully seek God - remembering not only that God called me to this ministry, but also reclaiming the faith and trust in God that carried me through the past 24 years of being a Christian.  "Re-establishing that base of faith and assurance of God's love and care", as Ross puts it.  Part of this process is also to get me to a place where I can "let go and let God".

Clearing the decks is also an important part of this healing process.  And while I must confess that I was feeling totally overwhelmed at the beginning of this week, the fact that I have (finally) managed to sort the insurance company out (after some harsh words were exchanged between me and Hollard's management), as well as having just printed out the fifth assignment this week (out of a total of six) is already causing the heart to lighten a little.

Please pray for me as I work at trying to regain that "first love" for God.

School applications 2012 - a few dead trees and a broken heart

Today I'm not in a good place at all.  Perhaps I'm just feeling a bit of pressure from the combination of the seminary workload; the need to make a living whilst I'm here; trying to sort out the sale of our house; dealing with the insurers after a break-in last week at the same house; my Mom's impending move to a retirement village ... it's all just a bit overwhelming at the moment, especially with me being 500km away from where I ideally need to be right now.

Hence the broken logo.  It represents partly the state of my heart at the moment, with its torn loyalties, and partly the cause of the stress - trying to follow and fulfil God's call to ordained ministry in the MCSA, yet at the same time trying to fulfil my responsibilities to my family, given to me by the same God who gave me the calling.

Tonight was a case in point - tears were already flowing at our community worship as I tried to sort out all the various stresses weighing down at the moment.  And part of this is due to the fact that Belinda and I have just spent a couple of weary hours filling umpteen application forms for high school for James in 2012, not to mention the wads of supporting documentation required with each application - killing a few trees in the process.

The closing date for these applications is 28 February 2011.

However, the nature of the MCSA stationing process is such that our stations are only confirmed in September.  By then, any attempts to submit applications to schools in the city or town we are stationed to at that late stage (assuming that there are in fact schools to apply to) will be likely to be met with raucous laughter, accompanied by a "don't call us ... we'll call you" response.

The upshot is that we are applying for James to go to a Pietermaritzburg-based high school, and given that my station is unlikely to be here in Pietermaritzburg, we are applying for boarding as well.  Which means that, once again, our family will be split thanks to stationing by the Church (we were separated in 2009 because the then Phase One programme was only for a single year, which made changing schools twice in two years impractical).

Because I came out of Phase One as "damaged goods" in a sense, largely as a result of being apart from Belinda and James, I was adamant that we would not be separated again.  I also decided last year to draft a resolution aimed at changing the stationing process per our Laws and Disciplines to make it more pastoral and "family-friendly", taking into account matters such as schooling and spouse's employment.  It was accepted by our Circuit Quarterly Meeting, passed through the Synod, and was ultimately enacted by Conference.  However, the nature of the beast is that it will take some time for a resolution to translate into practical application, which means that the current process remains in force for the moment.

Yet here I am, just over a year down the line, about to break my promise to my family that we would not be apart again.  At the same time, James is at a critical stage in his school career, and we can't afford to mess with that.  What does one do ... I've often been told that our priorities as ministers should be God, family, and church - in that order.  Yet often it seems that our priorites are God, church (or sometimes even church, God), with family coming in last place.  I'm hoping and praying that the abovementioned L&D amendment will go some way (however small) to realigning one's priorities to what they should be.

But such is life ... I did after all promise to go wherever the Church sends me.  Still, there are more than a few tear stains on the application forms we completed tonight.  And the heart will tear even further when we hand them in...

Standard operating procedure

James returned from his 3-day school camp stinking to high heaven, with ALL of his clothes dirty, very tired, and with a nice round bruise on his right arm (courtesy of a paintball game that got a bit serious!).

All in all, the perfect camp as far as he is concerned...