Helluva month

So on the Friday before Christmas, my agency's administrative offices were destroyed by fire.  The circumstances are, to put it kindly, suspect.  Within a month my aunt passed away and I drove to NC to preach her funeral, a task that was much more physically and emotionally draining than I could have imagined.  I returned late on a Saturday night only to find that I couldn't get out of pulpit duty the next day because another preacher was sick, so I had pulpit duty on Sunday followed by a counseling session. I came back into the office to discover a flood from burst pipes.

In all this time, I'm discovering things about people, things too disturbing to discuss in a public forum.  It's just good to know who has your back versus who has a knife aimed at your back.  And I'm eternally grateful that I come from a family that always has each other's back.  I'm thinking it might be a good idea for me to take a long weekend in the South once a quarter or so.  It's refreshing, and the change of pace does me good.

I say it's been a helluva month because it's pretty clear to me that the battle I'm in is not a carnal one, but a spiritual one.  I happen to believe we're on the verge of some empowering, transformative activities in the South Bronx, and I think satan has an investment in keeping that neighborhood and its people under a yoke.  When I saw some of the things that have happened in the last month, I was discouraged, dismayed, and disgusted.  It was then I realized that the enemy was using my emotions to get at me:  when I'm upset, I don't want to function.  The negativity combined with the feelings associated with my aunt's death had me off balance for a minute.

How surprised and grateful was I then, to find that like any preacher, I would preach my way through my storm?  It's an awesome task to find a word of comfort or encouragement for those who mourn; it's even more daunting when they are close relatives, and the difficulty factor grows exponentially when your own spirit is in despair.  Yet, that's where I found myself.  At first, I couldn't understand why Pastor Williams was so intent on handling everything except the eulogy, or why she asked me if I was "straight."  (Although I wear my emotions on my sleeve, I think they're invisible or something.) I told her that God is Able, and we left that alone.  It was only after I was in the pulpit, as the preaching moment grew near, that I found myself doubting my ability to actually deliver the eulogy I'd written.  After all, who was I to speak a word to these people who'd known me through all my colossal life failures, and who knew all my not-so-secrets?  By the time I was trying to make notes on the eulogy, my hand was shaking way worse than someone with Parkinson's; I literally was unable to write notes on the page.

Not sure how, but I did stand up to the pulpit. That's about all I remember; God took over after then, and the next thing I knew I was going back and forth in the pulpit area shouting and carrying on (I'm not a whooping preacher; I'm a teacher).  The fact that my cousin ran up into the pulpit to hug me, and the pastor high-fived me lead me to believe that I preached some truth with some conviction.  My cousin had expressly asked me not to talk long, so I timed my eulogy at 22 minutes.  After the service, she told me I could have gone on longer.  That was pretty cool.

And after that, there was this lingering peace.  I talked about renewal, preaching from the 2 Cor text that starts with Paul talking about how we are outwardly wasting away but inwardly being renewed day by day, and ended with the part that says that to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord.  It's a weird text, but was totally appropriate for my Aunt who succumbed to Alzheimer's.  There was an invitation as well; while I didn't open the doors to the church, I did mention all our past and present family members by name, and called for us to join an Eternal Family Reunion.  I like to think that it got us past being afraid of sickness and death and to focus on living the best life we can, with God's help.

I know that we're planning a family reunion for May, since we are now the senior generation of our family.  We're committed to being a family and being together.  This is really cool for me, since this is on my mother's side of the family and the Perry side is doing the same thing.  So despite all the drama that goes on at work, there is a peace and stability of family, sort of like that Jesus Peace that Passes All Understanding.  It's been a helluva month, yes, but I've got my Peace and I've got my Joy and I've got a Praise on the Inside, a Praise down in my soul, a Glory Hallelujah that cannot be controlled, yes I STILL have a Praise inside of me!

There will likely be more hellish times ahead.  When I was told about the flood, I just nodded and went on with my whatever I was doing. There comes a time when the external stimuli no longer stimulate -- yeah, you can try to push my buttons, but I get to choose how I respond.  And quite frankly, God's benevolence to me far outweighs these light and momentary troubles.  (When I've really grown spiritually, I'll have that sort of attitude behind the wheel, as well).

So yes, it's been a helluva month, but I've been visited by a heavenly presence Who lets me know that I'm being purged and pruned and prepared for the better days ahead. Helluva month? Yeah.  But my focus is on a heavenly eternity which far, far, far outweighs the measly little helluva month.