I’m Shocked that I’m Spiritually Where I am

A Pastor Writes:

Hi Zack,

I'm shocked that I'm spiritually where I am today. Here are some things I jotted down that I'm struggling to make sense of.

1.    My cup is empty. I'm thankful, but empty. I need personal revival and struggle to find it. I continue to work in ministry as a support-raise missionary. I preach and teach and serve and disciple and lead. I seem to function fine and nobody is telling me that I have a problem, but I feel it internally. 

2.    From seminary forward, I've listened to so many scholarly voices, apologetics, interpretations of Scripture, philosophies of ministry, that the Bible has become confusing to me. I don't know what to believe (about secondary doctrines and interpretations). I'm not confident that I know how to read the Bible and understand what it means anymore. Yet I teach the Bible and just preached this past weekend and got good responses. But I'm increasingly afraid to interpret many passages and confidently proclaim what the text means. I'm just not sure. I've lost the simplicity of reading and proclaiming what Scripture teaches. I've heard too many arguments this way and that way on particular passages of Scripture that I've become afraid and unsure of my ability to interpret correctly. 

3.    My mind often feels cloudy and dull. I don't have fresh, inspiring thoughts.

4.    Bible Reading - personal devotional reading doesn't seem to have any affect on me. Words are dry. I can't feel anything, even when I try.

5.    Prayer - prayers don't come out right. I really want to pray and bless my wife and kids with amazing words but I struggle and fumble with words and thoughts. My prayers come out sounding repetitive and robotic. I can't seem to find the words to pray and bless.

6.    Worship Music - often this is the only thing that helps. To listen to worship music, focus on the words, and open my mouth in praise. Its one of the few times I feel anything. I feel better when worship music is always on in my house, compared to when its off.

7.    We love and enjoy our kids, but we can hardly ever have an adult conversation or get a few serious words in between me and my wife at the dinner table. My wife and I rate our marriage about a 6. We've lost a step and are trying to find our way back. Her relationship with God and my relationship with God is not what it was before we started having kids. We're in the midst of launching a new ministry that we're excited about, but I think we need personal revival and refreshing first.

8.    A few months back we suffered a miscarriage.

If you've read this far, thank you. I will pray right now that God bless you for putting up with me!

My Reply:

Dear pastor,

 Thank you for taking this risk to share some of your life with me.

It is a stormy day here in St. Louis. A Spooky dark afternoon. It looks the way my soul feels sometimes. Windblown blotches of purple, black and blue like the whole sky is bruised. Meanwhile, I'm eating late afternoon almonds. I'm over fifty now and apparently these little guys are good for me. After playing early morning with my 16-month-old, I started the day with my counselor. I grew up with three divorces and five marriages and since then I've made plenty of mess myself, so starting the day with a counselor can be a good thing.

 I ache to hear of your painful losses in recent months. Devastating. Crushing. A doorway out is difficult to find within a maze of darkness. We grope and trip and lose our way. We give up and feel stuck. We try again. We wonder will we ever find a way out and home again. Makes me think of a poem written by a woman I do not know to be a follower of Jesus. She simply says:

 Where Are You?

Do you know that the heart has a dungeon?

Bring light! Bring light!

I'm thinking of Psalm 139 tonight as I pray for you. "Though darkness should surround me, even the darkness is as light to you, Oh Lord." I'm asking for His light. 

Not the flashlight to the eyes that blinds rather than illumines. I'm asking for morning sun reaching through window shade to touch the edge of the bed just beyond your feet. An invitation. A grace. 

I'd welcome visiting sometime if you’d like. Your questions matter. No agenda other than listening and looking to Jesus together.

 Lovely things still exist,

Zack