A TIMES IHAVE FELT AS THOUGH who I really am did not match what I was doing. At one time I worked my way through a phone directory, teeth clenched, telemarketing for unchurched people—enduring something that was the last thing in the world I wanted to do. Such experiences always leave me with a hollow feeling and the sense that I cannot sustain this kind of activity for very long.
In a TV interview I did, I noticed that the bookshelf in the background, like most of the set, was only for show. The "books" were spines with nice-looking titles but no printed pages inside. Sometimes I have felt as though I was propping up a similar pastoral facade. I was doing what I thought had to be done but I was not acting authentically from the core of my being. My outside actions and inside motivations were in conflict.
Sunday night services are an example of what once commonly gave me this feeling. After pouring my heart out on a Sunday morning, I would go home and have lunch and a short nap. By four ...
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