Yesterday was a brutal migraine day. My wife, Shauna, tells me I wasn’t alone—she bumped into a number of Calgarians also dancing with doozies yesterday. Mine was a particularly nasty creature.
Normally, if possible, I retreat when the hammers start pounding—but last night, I had two evening engagements I just couldn’t break. One was a planning meeting with leadership where we would carve out details for our upcoming candidating weekend for our Associate Pastor position. Yay! The second was a coffee planned with a great guy embroiled in a serious crisis. I didn’t think saying, “I know your marriage is in trouble, but I just don’t feel well tonight, sorry,” would be what Jesus would say. For some reason.
So I slugged my way through both the meeting and the coffee. My fellow leaders were kind enough to speak in hushed tones, cut the flourescent lights, and bring in a tiny desk lamp to work by in the board room. And they didn’t laugh at my wearing shades. During the coffee, I was able to clearly share the gospel with a searching soul who is open to Christ, but not yet ready to throw himself at God’s mercy. It was such a special time. What a privilege!
But still, it was an excruciating day.
SOAPBOX MOMENT: As a pastor, I’m almost continuously flabbergasted by the lame excuses people come up with for not serving. Beauties like, “I was tired.” Oh, like the other volunteers weren’t? I can’t count the events I’ve clenched my way through enduring pain and nausea, not because I’m a pastor, but because God is worth it and if people don’t serve when they don’t feel like it, the kingdom work will slip into darkness. Oh, wait… often times, that’s exactly what happens.
So I served. Not because I’m uber-spiritual, but because God is uber worth it. On my way back from coffee, the migraine had started to break and I slipped out a prayer, all I could manage.
“Thank you for being with me today.”
And quicker than silver came my Father’s reply: “Thank you for being with ME today.”
My eyes teared up as he went on. “Every migraine day that you love me anyway is a gift to me—more precious than you can imagine.”
The tears rolled. My throat tightened.
“Thank you, Lord. I needed to hear that.” Our Lord is wonderful, isn’t he? And worth it.
I think someone out there needs to hear the words he spoke to my heart. If that’s you, would you take a risk and share it here?
Thank you. For being with him.