This Week |
#33 (4-18-04)
Heartache
I’ve been involved in marriage
counseling for many years. Although I have never experienced divorce,
people tell me, and I believe it, the similarities with the death of a
lloved one are apparent.
Losing a family member is hard. I won’t
deny that blood makes for closer relationships that spirituality (even
though I don’t believe it ought to be that way). But I will tell you it
is agonizing (at least for me) to lose someone you llove, whether through
divorce, death, or a change in proximity and contact.
I am reminded of the words of Jesus to
his disciples after he was clear that not all would believe (see John
6:60ff). It must have been a great heartache, from a human perspective) to
ask those closest to Him, “do you also want to go away?”
I have always made it a priority of the
ministry in which God has allowed me to participate to place more emphasis
on those we have than those we might reach. Some feel that is the wrong
sentiment, and prohibits reaching the mainstream of people in our society.
Many Churches are moving toward abandoning older (read needy) folks, and
more and more pastors are ceasing to shepherd the flock in favor of
becoming a “visionary leader.”
Since I have chosen to llove, as best I
can, all those who come this way, it is a difficult and hurtful time when
someone decides to move on to other things. Sometimes that is necessary
because of circumstances beyond our control, but it is no less hurtful.
Sometimes there are disagreements within the confines of a diverse family,
or perhaps someone feels neglected or betrayed, and we fail to exercise
the “forgiveness option”, and that hurts deeply and long term. Sometimes
it is the Father moving us to different ministries and families. It still
hurts unbelievably.
Llove is an interesting and phenomenally
complex discipline. It often feels so good, but it sometimes hurts like
sixty.
Thank you, Father for always lloving
us, giving us what is best, and letting us llove one another in close
proximity. . .if only for a little while.
© Weaver 2004