I had worked hard, made good grades, graduated high school, college, and seminary with honors at the top of my class. I had just completed my doctoral degree under the teacher and school of my choice.
I was a person who had made a habit of coming out on top. And to consider that ending anywhere else was a possibility… just never entered my mind.
I had been obedient and followed Jesus into the pastoral ministry… something I never wanted to do by the way… I had married the right girl who gave birth to the right kids and we lived in the right house on the right farm.
I honestly followed Christ to the best of my ability in most every situation. I certainly wasn’t without fault… but I was serious about my faith, my calling, my family, and my life with Christ.
Over time God developed a dream in me… or at least that’s what I and all of my accountability partners thought it was. I felt called to take a few risks. We moved to a new town… started a new church… began new friendships… and began to live a new life.
It grew… the life, the friendships, the church…
So we kept moving forward. We sacrificed. We stayed when going would have provided more money, stability and prestige. We were obedient.
And then, honestly, all hell broke loose. (That’s not a curse word by the way… I’m saying that all of a sudden it looked like Satan was having his way with us.)
The church started to shrink. Many of the friendships ended in brokenness. Much blame seemed to be mine. And the right pastor in the right town with the right church started to feel WRONG.
My dream was shattered.
My hope was depleted.
My God seemed silent.
My faith was weak.
And I waited… frustrated… hurt… lonely… broken…
And other than my wonderful wife and a few friends… it didn’t seem like anyone was going to come and rescue me. I had taken risks and made decisions out of what I thought was faith… and they hadn’t paid off.
Was God there? Did He care?
What should I do?
And slowly but surely, I started to experience it. You see, I did have a dream. But just because it was my dream… didn’t guarantee that it was God’s dream. Or at least, not in detail.
God had a Plan B… Or I guess, maybe it was His Plan A.
But it was my Plan B.
And it was better… than I could have ever expected.
Plan to be at Four Rivers over the next few weeks. Where we will look at shattered dreams and the reality of living life in your Plan B: When God doesn’t show up the way you expected.