I was ready to quit. For real, this time.
I know I was serious, because I went to tell my pastor. I did not (and do not) make major life decisions without talking to my pastor about it. My pastor just happened to be my dad.
I sat down in Pa's office and broke the news to him. I planned to resign from my church. I had succeeded my father, who served the church for 40 years before moving to a new church. And I was getting the whippings they could not give him.
The conflict had lasted several years. I couldn't take it anymore. I was too young and had too much ahead of me to waste any more time in this extended conflict, or so I thought.
You cannot minister to others for the Lord's sake without experiencing seasons of pain.
When I finished my speech, Pa warned me how difficult it is to organize a church from scratch. But I had absolutely no intentions of starting a church. I would become a TV talk-show host before I did that.
When no counsel seemed to work, he mentioned a sermon he had recently heard that I should listen to. He buzzed his assistant and asked her to bring him a copy of the particular sermon.
I told him that wouldn't be necessary. Turned out it was my sermon! I had preached it at his church several months ago. It was on steadfast endurance during difficult seasons.
Pa acted shocked. "No. That couldn't have been you! That had to be someone else!"
Nope. It was me.
Gently, he told me that he understood what I was going through. He realized that I was tired of fighting and would give anything for a week of calm. That I just wanted to stand up on Sunday and preach in peace.
He was dead-on.
Then he assured me that running was not the answer. "If you want peace," he admonished, "wherever you go next, don't mentioned the name Jesus. Don't preach about him. Don't let the choir sing about him. Don't do anything in his name. Because if you lift up the name of Jesus, Satan is going to come looking for you!"
He then concluded this counseling session with the strange advice. "Son, you need to be still and let Rev. Thorn minister to you."
I knew a lot of preachers. But I did not know a Rev. Thorn. "Who is that?" I asked.
He handed me his Bible and told me to turn to 2 Corinthians 12. His point became apparent as I read Paul's words.
"So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited. Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness'" (2 Cor. 12:7-9).
"Son, your problem is that you want to minister to others," he continued. "But you won't let Rev. Thorn minister to you. Sometimes, God will make you sit down and let Rev. Thorn minister to you. And you won't be able to move on until you let him minister to you."
Then he prayed for me. I didn't like what I heard that day. I was hoping he would offer me a job, not advise me to be still and let suffering run its course. Ultimately, he was right.
You cannot minister to others for the Lord's sake without experiencing seasons of pain. And there will come a time when you will have to take what you minister to others and minister it to yourself.
Rev. Thorn has an extensive ministry among pastors.
H.B. CHARLES, JR. is pastor of Shiloh Metropolitan Church, Jacksonville, Florida.
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