Slimed on Wednesday

“He slimed me.” Dr. Peter Venkman in Ghostbusters (1984)

“There are two equal and opposite errors into which our race can fall about the devils. One is to disbelieve in their existence. The other is to believe, and to feel an excessive and unhealthy interest in them. They themselves are equally pleased by both errors, and hail a materialist or a magician with the same delight.” C.S. Lewis in The Screwtape Letters

It felt as yucky as this looks

Last Wednesday morning I was “slimed.” It had been an otherwise normal morning. I had gotten up when I usually do, checked my Facebook page and puttered around on the internet as I am wont to do most mornings. After getting cleaned up and having my usual bowl of oatmeal, I brushed my teeth and kissed my wife good-bye. And this is what happened next: as I opened my laundry room door to make my way to our back door I was suddenly inundated with a barrage of pessimistic thoughts. It literally felt like I was stepping out into a hail storm of negativity.

There are 365 ¼ days in a given year and on all but maybe one or two of them things from my perspective are rainbows and unicorns. Last Wednesday morning I didn't get up on the wrong side of the bed. As I have already said, it had been an otherwise normal morning. But the ugliness that washed over me by walking into my laundry room felt like it had been nothing but that door that had been keeping back the toxic waters I now was wading through.

It takes me all of two minutes to drive to Refuge and during that short drive the storm was relentless. What was I suddenly overwhelmed with? Well, our Annual Gathering was a few days away and I knew on that evening I would officially be receiving a pay cut. Offerings are such they can no longer afford to pay me the salary that I have been receiving for years. At the same time, I suddenly thought about pastor-friends of mine whose ministries are thriving and growing. It wasn't too far of a walk, then, to succumb to the accusations of mediocrity and failure that were flung at me relentlessly. A more spiritual man would have shouted “Be gone from me in Jesus' Name!” Instead, I gasped out, “Lord, help! I need a word to shake off these nasty darts of ugliness that continue to pelt me mercilessly.”

Mighty warrior I was not

Hanging around this bunch is good medicine

I spend a good chunk of Wednesday mornings at Roselawn Elementary across the street where I read to five different classes. I'm something of a rock-star there. I've been reading to children since my own now 20-something kids were in kindergarten so my reputation among teachers and their students precedes me. As usual, in most classes I was mobbed with hugs and cheers as I showed up at their classroom to read to them.

I had lunch at Bob's Grill with one of the guys from Refuge. We talked about life and marriage and things of that nature and at the end of our conversation without provocation he said, “You know, you're a great pastor and I really appreciate you and your ministry here.”

She even knows where Narnia is

Later that afternoon our daughter, Emma, needed a ride home from Bethel for her J-term break. Over dinner and during the nearly two-hour ride back home we talked about life and the cosmos, school and the future. It was wonderful and I was grateful for all that face-time with her.

And that night at our youth gathering, Charis felt led to have us meditatively read aloud Psalm 139.

“Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out;
    you formed me in my mother’s womb.
I thank you, High God—you’re breathtaking!
    Body and soul, I am marvelously made!
    I worship in adoration—what a creation!
You know me inside and out,
    you know every bone in my body;
You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit,
    how I was sculpted from nothing into something.
Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth;
    all the stages of my life were spread out before you,
The days of my life all prepared
    before I’d even lived one day.”

“Your thoughts—how rare, how beautiful!
    God, I’ll never comprehend them!
I couldn’t even begin to count them—
    any more than I could count the sand of the sea.”

Psalm 139:13-18, The Message

Word.

Slowly and steadily throughout the day God had brought relief to my harassed soul. By day's end, I was officially encouraged. In fact, the next day it was as if had never happened. And Friday night at the Annual Gathering even though they did in fact approve to lower my annual salary, I did not feel rejected or demoted. They can only give me what they take in. They can't conjure dollars out of good intentions.

I'm not someone who likes to talk a lot about spiritual warfare. Of course, I believe it happens but I just don't like giving the devil too much credit. If my car breaks down is it really an attack of the evil one or could it be my penchant for not maintaining my vehicles very well? Our mutual adversary is not everywhere. Sure, he has lots of minions who have pernicious assignments to carry out but as the Apostle John pointed out, “You have already won a victory over those people, because the Spirit who lives in you is greater than the spirit who lives in the world” (1 John 4:4, NLT). But a day like last Wednesday reminds me that while the devil doesn't hide behind every bush, he does hide behind a few of them and every once in awhile tries to pick our pocket as he did mine. Gratefully, God brought a steady flow of affirmation throughout the day that helped me keep my head up until the flood waters receded.

Our adversary may not be everywhere but he is in some places

One of the men who worships with us left the Justice Center last summer. This past fall was one of progress for him in his life on many different levels. On the first Sunday in January he shared his story at the weekly worship gathering. Ever since then, things have gone south. Troubles at work, troubles with his neighbors, troubles all around. He's been discouraged for the last couple of weeks and spiritually speaking sounds like he's on the ropes. It was someone else who suggested that there might be a connection between the public sharing of his faith-story and the litany of woes he has been experiencing of late. Given my recent bout with spiritual harassment, I'm inclined to agree. And why not – here's an individual who struggles with addiction trying to make positive yardage in his life while all the while “the defense” seems to be crowding “8 men in the box.” Coincidence? Or the shady dealings of a determined foe who loves nothing more than to deflate our confidence in the Lord who loves us and calls us to persevere?