Craving the Cave…Getting Called Out
I’ve given more than one “sermon” with this theme. Probably more that a few people who take the time to read this can testify to that.
“These are the days of the harvest…” and “we are the laborers in the vineyard…”
You know when you think “Someone really needs to…” or “We (the church/small group) need to…” or “There is really a need for…” and then you finish the thought up with something like, “If only God would send someone to lead, to fill, or to meet that need.”
I’m typically the straightforward voice looking someone in the eye saying, “Sounds like He already did. It’s you.”
Then come the excuses.
*I’m too young/old.
*I don’t have the right training/education.
*I’m too busy.
*Maybe when the kids are a little older./The kids are too busy and I don’t want to miss their last few years.
*What if no one supports it?/If it really isn’t needed?
*We can’t afford it./We don’t have resources to support the new ministry.
Yeah, I’ve given that speech a few times. I’ve given it to myself a few times. I’ve even made the mistake of keeping my mouth shut and not given it a few times when I should have.
But today I simply sang the song as part of corporate worship and was ministered to. And then came the sermon.
Anyone who knows me even a little, knows I am a doer.
But right now?
I’m not. I’m on sabbatical.
I’m being a wife, a mother, a teacher, and a coach. That’s more than enough. Many would say that still makes me a doer, but I’m on sabbatical from formal ministry.
That doesn’t change who I am as a Christian. It doesn’t change my walk nor does it change my talk. It simply changes how I’m using my time, and is allowing me to seek God’s will for me in a way I haven’t felt able to in quite a while.
And then the sermon followed Elijah into a cave. Hiding from ministry. Read 1 Kings 19.
I’m not comparing myself to Elijah, the prophet. I don’t feel like people are out to kill me for my message. I know there are people in other places who do live for Christ in those circumstances. I am not one of them.
I simply felt like someone looked me in the eye and asked, “Why are you hiding in this cave?”
I don’t have an answer to that question. I don’t even believe that’s what I’m doing. I’m intentionally seeking God’s will by removing much of the “noise” that I allowed and even invited to come between us.
Perhaps the question I felt today was part of the still small voice that tracked Elijah down in his cave.