My First Church

There is no way I can tell you all the good and not so good experiences I had while serving the small urban church. However, a few weeks after I had gone to speak and teach as a candidate, I had a dream that was a shadow over me throughout my tenure there. In this dark dream I had walked into the building, dressed in black. I sat on the back pew and began to cry.

My tears rained down my distraught face and I seemed so disappointed by whatever had made me cry. No one else was in the building and I could hear myself screaming in anguish, “Lord! Where did all the people go?” While I was dreaming I could almost sense that those people that extended the call to me had now abandoned me. I felt alone and despondent.

It was not until six years later, after trials fought and battles won, that God relieved me of the anguish felt from that dream. That recurring nightmare became clear when God said, “It’s not about your tears it’s about My answer.” I asked, “Lord! Where have all the people gone?” He answered, “Who do you need most them or me?”

Of course, I needed Him, and it is sure that I needed them; but when it was all said and done, I need Him more than anyone. By the time I chaired my last business meeting with the church, alerting them to the news that I was about to move on and start a new assignment; I had learned that although I had been called to serve God’s people there, in pastoral ministry we need Him more than we need them.

On my last Sunday as pastor, I thought I would have some strongly reflective moments as I was leaving. I thought my tears would overwhelm me like they did at other moments in that church, but this time my tears were mixed. I did have the reflective tears, but more than those where the tears of joy. I fought back mixed tears.

After leaving my first pastorate I didn’t cry over what I didn’t get accomplished, I cried over the many lives I had touched, the burials, the weddings, the worship services that were encouraging, and the fellowship with the people. That’s where I had those moments of tears. I would miss the people, especially the good ones.

During most of my early years of ministry, before my first pastorate, I dreamed of being called to pastor outside of my hometown of Chicago. I kept petitioning the Lord to send me away from that city and place me in a church outside of my hometown. This was such a strong request of mine that I would at times literally grieve over any missed opportunities.

Once the Lord made it clear that He had called me to my first assignment, I shelved the idea of leaving, to see what the Lord had in store for my ministry there. As I settled into ministry at my first church, I found great solace in the fact that God gave me a clear vision for that church’s spiritual wellbeing. I strived, we prayed. I labored, we served. I was often hurt and no doubt I hurt others; but in the end I am confident that God used it all to grow the church and me.

I have since moved on into other areas of ministry confident that I knew God’s voice when I heard it. I have now moved on into my new assignment thanking God that the first assignment had its place. I have now moved on into the new assignment ready to soar to the heights only God could take me through, alongside of the experiences from my first pastorate, and other ministry opportunities.