No One Ever Told Me There'd Be Days Like These

"Set apart for me Barnabas and Saul for the work that I have called them to do." - Holy Spirit

The preceding reference is out of Luke's Acts of the Apostles, chapter 13 verse 2. Out of the fledgling church of Antioch God calls two relatively unknown saints. At least from the early church's perspective that was probably the case. Notice Luke calls Paul by his old name Saul. As of yet he has not made a name for himself. Nor is he claiming to be the "Apostle to the Gentiles." Today we would call these men pioneers. But in reality neither of these men were as recognized as Peter, James or John. For all we know Saul was still digging himself out of the grave of a scarred reputation and strained relationships with a body he had previously sworn to destroy.

But all of that has changed now. Grace has a way of doing that to you. Suddenly you realize you're not the person you once were and over time that old man becomes unrecognizeable. Looking through the fog of the past we ask ourselves, "was that really me?" Yet I suspect there is a subtle danger in forgetting. Is there not humility in remembering who you once were? Like an old wound, the numbing pain and then on the wings of an angel it quickly passes away.

What I find compelling about this text is that the 'work' they are set apart to do is never specified. I realize Luke likely anticipated we would figure that out as we read on. But did Barnabas and Saul realize what they were getting into? No one ever told me there'd be days like these. And if they had, I probably would not have listened. And properly so, for if I had listened I fearfully doubt I would be what I am right now. The cost is more than one can bear, but spread out over time it is consumed in the river of grace.

-Panting from the exhaustion after racing for all he was worth,
over hill and over dale,
through field and under wood
the old dog collapses in a quiet crick.

Water moves, over him, under him, all around him.
He pants in pain as he struggles for breath,
eyes rolled back in his head, near death.

He hears footfalls, he feels the gently caress,
the healing stream and words of comfort
invade his memory and bring him back to reality.

For those who consider ministry as an option I suggest you find another way to kill yourself. For ministry is no option at all. For those God has called it becomes compelling, and then overwhelming. At times I have contemplated the word "addiction" but its associations are cloaked in outer darkness. And yet, it has a ring of sovereignty to it. In this place you will always get more than you bargained for and yet it will forever be all you can live for. Until you would die without it, don't pick up that phone. Maybe someone else will answer it. Because once you say, "Hello," it becomes impossible to say no. Sola Fide, WHB