First Pastor

This time of year always brings to mind our history in church and a time of reflection. It was eight years ago that we started going to church. In our 8 years, we have been in 3 churches with 5 pastors.

It is always interesting to reflect on the pastors and the growth I've had with each one.

We absolutely love our current one. Not that he's perfect, but he has been a perfect, natural fit for this time in our lives and we get so much from his preaching and teaching.

In the few short months we were at our second church, we had two pastors. The first went to be the senior pastor at the main campus. The pastor who came in after him has done amazing things in growing and creating unity within the church. Both great guys and amazing preachers, but we weren't there long enough to develop a relationship with either one.

Our first church also had two pastors. About halfway through our time there, the first decided to go on the mission field and spent several years in Athens, Greece. The pastor who came after him had big shoes to fill, as our first pastor was well loved and loved his congregation in personal ways.

Needless to say, the next pastor fell short in our eyes. That isn't necessarily a knock against him personally. We had very different views outside the gospel and incredibly different personality bents. Ultimately, we left that church because we could no longer support his decisions. The experience with him grew us both in unique ways and confirmed for us the qualities we believe are important to have in a pastor.

This kind of reflection always takes me to some of the sweetest times I had with my first pastor. He had such an impact on me.

Prior to meeting with him in August 2007, I don't think we'd ever had any face to face contact. That day is and will remain one of my sweetest memories ever. He led me to the Lord in his office that day. He's obviously going to have a special place in my heart and testimony for the rest of my life.

But it didn't stop that day. He genuinely cared and we knew it. He grasped the enormity of what it meant for me to commit to Christ and leave my family. He understood that never having been churched in my first 32 years of life presented some challenges. He had patience with that and direction.

He was the pastor who baptized me. For the average person, this would be an amazing event in their life with Christ. It was for me, but it was terrifying. Given my history, having a man push me underwater struck fear in me deeper than I understood. When he and my counselor found out that I was thinking of canceling because of my anxiety, they jumped in. Both of them took me to the baptistry for dry runs. They also met with me the morning of my baptism to pray for me. Thanks to them, it happened and remains one of my favorite days.

Less than two months after becoming a Christian, I caught my boss embezzling money from the clinic where I worked. To give a bit of context, by then my counselor had me in a routine of a few sessions each week. Given what I came from and the flood of memories, it was necessary for safety and to keep me from running away from the church. So, my counselor was on vacation and had set me up for appointments with the pastor. Something he willingly did whenever she was gone.

I walked into his office the Monday after catching my boss. I couldn't wrap my head around what had happened. I couldn't understand why. He said something to me that stuck with me and I still apply today when I can't understand the depths of evil that I see. He said that I couldn't understand her sin because I wasn't like her. It didn't mean that I didn't have sin in my life. However, it meant that my mind couldn't go to that level of depravity. I couldn't understand stealing because I wasn't a thief. He went on to say it was a good thing I couldn't understand it. Wow! I don't have to scratch my head and wonder how anyone could kill or rape or do a lot of other things. I just have to be thankful that I don't have a mind that understands those things.

There were so many times when I missed my nieces and nephews so much that I couldn't hardly bare to be away from them. Near Thanksgiving the second year, I was struggling a lot with that. The pastor emailed me and suggested I listen to a Natalie Grant song called In Better Hands. He had heard the song on the radio and made him think of me. He included the lyrics to the song. He was right. Choosing Christ over my family meant I was in better hands. That song easily encapsulated all I was feeling and the truth that I was much better off.

He was an imperfect man who was a mouthpiece for a perfect God. I can't say he never messed up, he did. But what was awesome is the amount of grace taught me by being humble with his faults. He apologized when he was wrong or forgot something. He was never angered when I screwed up, offering loving correction. There was more to this than just learning grace. I learned that a man besides my husband could be trusted. Not every man wanted to hurt me. That I could have healthy friendships with a man. A man could apologize when he was wrong. Those were all things I had to learn for my healing.

This pastor has since moved back to the states as his time in Greece has ended. He is now pastoring a church in St. Louis. On one of our trips through, we will have to stop to hear him preach again. I can't hardly believe it has been eight years since I heard him preach the first time, nor what has taken place since then.

Reflecting is such an awesome way to see what God has done in my life and the people he has used. I hope I never forget people like my first pastor and I hope I never take for granted the way he allowed God to use him in my life.