Just how many ways can the heart of a pastor be ripped out?
Yesterday a couple of phone calls and mine was torn again.....
Truly the father of the Prodigal depicts a God called pastor's heart as good as any....
There is little doubt that before that boy left there was pressure in the house.....
The Prodigal's decision was not a sudden one but one worked toward for some time.....
Surely he created quite a storm before he finally took his stuff and left....
And without doubt the day after the father's heart was rent....
The pressure subsided.....
A form of peace and relief settled in.....
But the father never quit standing by the front window looking up the road...
For he knew one day the boy would come home.....
Ah the Paradox of the Parsonage.....
No matter what happens to a church member....
Regardless of the ensuing events of a family leaving the church.....
Pastor's heart is always torn....
Even amid the peace that settles after the storm....
Pastor always keeps his eyes on the front door of the church on service days knowing....
That one day the prodigal will return....
Why do we do this?
Why do we beg God for one more chance to dung and till the unfruitful tree?
Why do we weep when someone walks out on God, the church and us?
Why does a true shepherd allow his heart to get so intertwined with the wayward?
Tis the Paradox of the Parsonage.....
We love knowing we will hurt....
We tolerate knowing tolerance is inappropriate....
We turn the other cheek when we ought to be spanking.........
And we forgive the unforgivable because that is the God part of a pastor's heart....
Only a pastor truly knows the chaos of the parsonage....
While he weeps for the decisions of the prodigal....
He rejoices in the birth of a new Babe in Christ....
Pastor never says good riddance....
Rather he ask for bridges to not be burned....
The carnal would say Pastor is crazy for allowing himself the myriad of emotions he does....
But is a mother's care for her baby unreasonable?
Is a dad's love for his daughter unjustified?
And the pastor loves like a mom and dad and grandparent all in one.....
The pastor loves when he should not.....
But also....
There comes a point....
Pastor must let go....
Pastor must release them....
Pastor must step back....
And allow events to unfold....
Viewing them through the mist of tear filled eyes....
Praying with a broken heart.....
And a finger lifting the blinds as he keeps his eyes on the horizon of the Spirit....
His leaping heart rejoices with each speck on the horizon...
They are coming home...
My son......
My baby.....
My wayward saint......
Only to have to settle back and wait a little longer.....
And the Paradox of the Parsonage continues....
Sometimes for years......
Pastors love hard....
Pastors love deep....
Pastors love without condition.....
And pastor rejoices when he stands in the altar of restitution and restoration.....
Rejoicing in the restoration....
While weeping over the broken and lost pieces of what was once so beautiful......
And the pastor goes about finding some clothes and food and forgiveness and acceptance and even trust with a ring...........
Knowing....
Knowing that the events will probably all happen again.....
Cognizing the healing in his heart is but temporary....
Certain that in the midst of restoration.....
His heart will be torn again by yet another event........
And another sleepless night is headed his way.....
Yet he loves unconditionally.....
He rejoices with those that rejoice....
Weeps with those that weep....
Smiles at the Wednesday night bible study.....
Gets in his car with a heavy heart and torn spirit...
And heads home wrestling with.......
The Paradox of the Parsonage....
Blessings....
rks