I’d like to think that I am an encourager, perhaps not the best, certainly not the worst. If someone does well, I will give a sincere, “Well done!” Even if someone does not do well, I look for something praiseworthy. As a pastor, I am often asked to give references and recommendations for others, and I lean toward graciousness in my assessments and remarks. But lately, my desire to encourage is being challenged by a browser I have used for years that is asking for my recommendation.
The words “new year” will take on greater significance for the congregation I serve as pastor. Though now a “church start-up,” this congregation anticipates gaining full-church status with the Evangelical Free Church early in the first quarter of the new year. Also, in January of 2025, we will be gathering for worship on Sundays in the chapel at Gulf Pointe Latin School on East Bay Blvd. The school’s chapel and campus are beautiful, and we thank God for the privilege of gathering there. Further, we have just inducted our first group of members. We are eager for this new year of faithful ministry.
I have a favorite Christmas hymn that I am uncomfortable singing. It is one of the most beloved Christmas hymns, and I love it too, with reservation. I am a man conflicted!
For almost the entirety of my 36 years of full-time Christian ministry, I have avoided planting a church with the same zealous determination that I avoid liver and onions. Yet here I am in Navarre planting a church.
(Dear Readers, I have written this article in the anticipation it may be published before the Thanksgiving Holiday. If it is not, please be gentle with any criticism. Thanks! Mark)
My wife says I can find a topic for a column in the most mundane things. I think she is exaggerating. Anyway, I was walking from the kitchen to my office with a full cup of coffee trying not to spill. It seemed that the more I focused on not spilling, the more likely it was that I would. Caution made my posture rigid, my gait stiff. Slight missteps elicited a jerky correction that set the hot liquid in motion.
Before I retired, I remember attending worship with a different congregation while on vacation. I remember the pastor spoke very eloquently about a very fitting topic: being judgmental toward others. As I reflected on that sermon, even today I felt the preacher was right on track and got me thinking.
I write these columns the week before they are published, so this piece will be read two days after the presidential election. It is safe for me to predict, now less than one week out, that roughly half of this nation is cheering the election results, and the other half is sorely disappointed, perhaps even angry. I suspect this could be said of any election.
When I was a young child, my blond hair was nearly white. My blue eyes shown bluer when I wore blue shirts. My teeth were a bit crooked. And one ear didn’t have creases like most ears do.
