They were 20 minutes late. My wife and I meandered through the Cracker Barrel Gift Store, pretending to be interested in various trinkets, but our minds were firmly on them. “Where could they be?!”, I thought to myself with exasperation. My wife and I looked at each other. We were both worried. “Maybe this whole thing was too emotionally intense for them,” I said to my wife with a fatalistic sigh. “Maybe,” she responded as she continued to carry Drake with one arm while wrestling Derrick away from a firetruck toy with the other.

Just then, the Cracker Barrel doors opened, and in walked two people – a man and a woman. The man stood about 5′ 10″ tall with strawberry blonde hair and a thick beard. He looked thin but was clearly good looking. The woman stood about 5′ 6″ tall with long braided black hair and glasses on her face. She too was thin (especially for having just given birth to a child) and had exotic features that oozed of Hispanic origin. They both were dressed modestly; and they both smelled of meth. Indeed, meth has a distinct burnt rubber smell with a twinge of rotten egg odor that is hard to conceal.

My wife and I approached them. “Justin? Chelsea?”, I asked with nervous excitement. “Yes,” Chelsea responded humbly. I gave her a big hug and then shook Justin’s hand. “Our table is this way,” I said while leading the way to our corner table in the Cracker Barrel Restaurant. As we got seated, Derrick (our almost 3-year-old) was being a handful. He just couldn’t sit still. “Derrick, these are your birthparents,” my wife said trying to regain our toddler’s focus. But Derrick was clearly wanting to do his own thing and was talking a mile a minute. “Listen to his little voice,” Chelsea said with genuine amazement.

Eventually, the waitress came and took our meal orders. For the life of me, I can’t remember what I ordered that night – Halloween Night 2023. I must have ordered something, but my mind was utterly transfixed on the two people sitting across the table from us. I mean, these two people had changed our lives forever in first giving to us Derrick in 2021 and now Drake in 2023. I wanted to soak in the moment and learn as much about them as possible.

Apparently, they had spent the day digging through different dumpsters. They were utterly convinced that someone had stolen their stuff and dumped it into some trash receptacle. A bag with clothes, hygiene products, and electronics was missing. “It must be hard to live like this,” I said. “You get used to it,” Chelsea responded. Conversation meandered in all sorts of different ways. We talked about Derrick and how smart and strong he truly is. They were thrilled at how well he was thriving in our home. We talked about how amazing it was that Drake was only in the hospital for 5 days. They were grateful for that, and Justin informed me that he was born in the exact same hospital that Drake was born in – Banner Hospital in Mesa, Arizona. We continued to eat our meal. I guess it was good, because I can’t remember what I ate, but I finished my meal first and took Drake in my arms. “Wanna hold him?”, I asked Chelsea. “I would love to,” Chelsea whispered while holding out her beautiful, mud-caked, tattooed arms.

And then, for 20 minutes or so, she just held him. She didn’t say a word. She never lifted her eyes from his face. She just held him and stared into his tiny face. Folks, you could feel the love that she had for this child. You could feel the shame that she had in having to give him up. You could feel the absolute awe she had for this tiny, handsome human in her arms. You could also feel the thick regret that she had for choosing another way of life. Love mixed with shame mixed with awe mixed with regret is a powerful concoction. It will intoxicate you and leave your heart shattered.

Yes, my heart shattered in that moment watching Chelsea hold her baby. She was the mother to that child, but she would not be going home with her child that night (or any night – ever). The moment was surreal…Chelsea was holding Drake, and Justin was interacting with Derrick. Sitting across the table from them, I thought, “This could have been a family. A mom and a dad with their two adorable sons just having a meal together…” But this world is broken, and that vision (though the ideal) is not the reality any of us were living in.

I eventually shared the Gospel with Justin and Chelsea. They listened respectfully. My wife and I then gave them gifts – a necklace for Chelsea and a bracelet for Justin. Both Justin and Chelsea thanked us for helping them out. They were just so grateful to have us in their lives. Chelsea then gave Drake back to me. I took Drake into one of my arms and then with the other arm I reached out to touch Chelsea’s shoulder, “We’ll take good care of him.” “I know you will,” she said with a small smile. We got up from the table and all of us exchanged big hugs. The last hug to be exchanged was between Justin and Derrick. “Be a good boy, and listen to your dad, okay?” “Okay!”, Derrick responded cheerily while running up to me.

Before we left the Cracker Barrel on Chandler Ave in Phoenix, Arizona, I went to the bathroom and cried my little eyes out. I wept for Justin. I wept for Chelsea. In a perfect world, Justin and Chelsea would have left that restaurant with Derrick and Drake in their arms, but our world is truly broken. Indeed, the night my wife and I met Justin and Chelsea was truly life changing. We both now have a true love for two homeless people addicted to amphetamines, methamphetamines, and fentanyl. It’s a unique love. It’s a strange love. It’s a powerful love. Indeed, I truly love these two people, and I pray that I’ll see them again one day soon…Justin and Chelsea, you’ll probably never read this, but I love you guys. I pray for you every day. Your boys are well loved and safe. Stay safe out there. I hope to see you soon…

Today is my birthday. I’m now 37 years old. Do I feel older? Yes. Yes, I do. I may still be young according to the external clock, but internally I feel the effects of a lot of life lived in 37 years.

Marriage will age you; and I’ve been married now for nearly 14 years. Parenting will age you; and I’ve been parenting now for 11 years and have a total of 6 children. Pastoring will age you; and I’ve been pastoring the same church now for 10 years. Additionally, military deployments, the whole college experience, and adopting 2 children will age you. All of these things are wonderful things (adrenaline inducing things), but they take a toll. In maturing you, they also age you. In strengthening you, they also scar you. For those of you who have been through some (or all) of these things, you know what I mean.

I’ve stuffed a lot of living into my 37 years of life. And I have to say, I’m grateful. I’m grateful for the life I’ve been able to live, the people that I’ve been able to love, and the organizations that I’ve been able to lead. It’s been a good life, not a perfect life, but a good life.

I realize that this birthday note has a somber tone to it. Am I depressed? No, just thoughtful – pensive. They say that the average life expectancy of a U.S. male is 73.5 years old. If that statistic holds true for me then that means I have more life in the rearview mirror than in the windshield in front of me. If I live to 73.5 years old then that means, at age 37 today, I only have 36.5 years of life left to live. It’s a sobering thought, isn’t it? But it’s also a biblical thought…

Moses once wrote, “Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.” ~Psalm 90:12

James once asked, “What is your life? [And then he gives an answer…] You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.” ~James 4:14

So, as I consider the life that is behind me and the life that is now in front of me, I want to know God’s wisdom. That is to say, I’m asking many questions: How does God want me to spend my time? My money? My energy? How does God want me to spend the rest of my life? For indeed, even if I reach 100 years of age, my life is simply “a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.”

God, help me to steward my life well. Help me to live it for the good of others and your great glory. God, make the remaining years of my life count for eternity!

If you would have told me at the beginning of this year that I would be going from 4 children to 6 children, I would have simply smiled at you and gently informed you that you were mistaken. At the beginning of this year (January 2023), my wife was pregnant with just 1 child, not 2. And that child made his debut on February 5, 2023. We named him Daxton Maximus – a good, strong name for our biggest baby to date.

But little did I know that at the exact moment I held my 5th child, my 6th child was being conceived 1,462 miles away. Yes, in Mesa, Arizona another child (a baby boy – our adopted son Derrick’s full-biological brother) was getting ready to enter our world and enter our family. We received news of his conception on July 12, 2023. And just 3 months later, on October 20, 2023, our 6th child was born. He was born 4 weeks early with drug exposure, but he was happy and healthy. We named him Drake Herschel David – a name littered with meaning for our tiniest baby to date.

At the time of this writing, Christmas is just 4 days away. In many ways, this is a totally unplanned Christmas for me and my family. The original plan, at the start of this year, was to celebrate Christmas as a new family of 7 with just 1 member of our family experiencing his very first Christmas, but God had other plans. Indeed, in the wise, loving, sovereign plan of God, this year’s Christmas will be celebrated by us as a new family of 8 with 2 members of our family experiencing their very first Christmas…And with 2 babies in the family (10 months old and 2 months old) it will certainly not be a silent night for any of us.

It is such a comfort to know that you’re not in charge of your own life. God is the Boss. His plans are best. Indeed, under the sovereignty of God there is no such thing as “an unplanned Christmas”. Oh, for sure, things from our vantage point are unplanned and unexpected, but from God’s vantage point everything is working according to His divine plan. Think about that very first Christmas about 2,023 years ago…Unplanned? Unexpected? From Mary’s vantage point, yes…But such an event was planned and expected by God in eternity past. The lesson for us? The unplanned and unexpected (from our vantage point) is all under the sovereignty of God, and it always yields the best stories.

One more thing, God knows better than me; and God knows better than you. I would not have found it wise or convenient to have 2 kids in 1 year, going from 4 kids to 6 kids. I would not have found it wise or convenient to say “yes” to another adoption case wracked with amphetamines, methamphetamines, and fentanyl. I would not have found it wise or convenient to open my family to the possibility of a child with severe disability and/or deformity. If you would have asked me, the whole thing was, well, not a good plan. But God knows better than me. His plans are best. It’s funny to think about when I first started the pastorate 10 years ago at Prairie Flower Baptist Church…My dream? Big church with a small family (4 kids max). God’s plan? Small church with a big family. Ha! God knows better than me and what a comfort it is to let Him lead the way…Merry Christmas, friends. Rest easy in Christ’s sovereignty over your life (and your plans) for He truly knows better than you…

Galatians 4:4-5, “But when the right time came, the time God decided on, He sent His Son, born of a woman, born as a Jew, to buy freedom for us who were slaves to the law so that He could adopt us as His very own sons.”

Part 15: Zombie…

He was brilliant. There was no denying it. Indeed, the ability to keep your emotions in check, especially in a tense situation, is a distinguishing mark of the elite. Derek knew it. He had seen it before in his time in the U.S. Army working for the Special Operations community as an all-source intelligence analyst. He had worked for the best of the best; and the best of the best knew how to keep their emotions in check.

Caleb was such a person…Cool, calm, and collected. He entered the meeting with Derek and Draike with an air of confidence that smelled of superiority. Derek resented how different he was from Caleb. If Caleb was as cool as water, well, Derek was the complete opposite. Derek was hot like fire, and in this moment, he was white hot with passion.

“Here are the facts,” Derek interjected as Caleb was outlining why it was “God’s will” for him to split the church by means of starting his own church, “You’re wrong. This whole situation is totally out of order.” “Now, Pastor,” said Caleb with a smile, “Let’s be reasonable about this whole situation.” “Reasonable? Are you kidding me?! You’re splitting our church apart!” “That is inaccurate, and you know it. I haven’t asked a single person from your church to leave.” “Well, why is a third of the church leaving here to attend your church then?” Caleb sat back in his chair and sighed as if he were annoyed at the naive nature of Derek…”Well maybe they aren’t getting what they need from you or this church, but I sure as heck haven’t asked a single person from this church to come to my church.”

Derek was overly irritated at this point. How is he getting away with this? I know he’s lying to me. He might not have asked people directly to leave this church, but he sure does have some massive influence in these people leaving. I just know he’s lying. Derek looked at Draike, non-verbally signaling to him that he should pipe up to say something – anything. Draike moved uneasily in his chair and then leaned forward. “Listen…I think the real issue here is a matter of protocol. You’ve already started your church without us knowing about it. And remember, you’re still a member here at this church. And, whether you’ve asked people from here to come to your church or not is irrelevant at this point. The fact is people are leaving here to go to your new church. This is not proper protocol. Can’t we just put a pause on this whole new church plant and have us be a part of the launch of this whole thing?” Caleb smiled. “That’s not going to work. God told me to plant this church, and He told me to do it now. I must obey God rather than men.”

Derek smiled at Caleb, but his internal fury was boiling. He absolutely disdained people who dropped the name of God to bless off on their deviant or out of order practices. What a snake. This meeting is going nowhere. Derek spoke up, “Well, I guess we must proceed with church discipline then.” “You’re going to kick me out of the church?”, Caleb asked as if shocked by the suggestion. “If you’re not going to follow the God-ordained leadership of this church, then yes, you must be made an example of.” Caleb chuckled, “You probably want to reconsider that option. That will not play out well for you…”

The meeting ended with sterile handshakes, polite smiles, and a “we’ll be in touch” comment. From the outside looking in, the whole meeting was just church politics at its’ finest, but underneath the surface, things were bad – very bad indeed, especially for Derek. “Are you going to be okay?”, Draike asked Derek. “I. Don’t. Know. I just feel overwhelmed. Our church is being split apart because of Caleb’s new church, Haddie is in some sort of adulterous situation with her best friend’s husband, Don overdosed (again), Bill’s getting ready to die, my wife is pregnant…” Derek stopped as if he was running out of breath. Draike piped up, “Wait, what? Haddie is committing adultery?!” “Yeah, we can talk about it tomorrow. I’m just so – so – so drained. I feel like the walking dead right now – like a zombie.” Draike agreed, “That’s a good way to put it. Do zombies sleep?” Derek looked puzzled. Draike continued, “Because if they do, we both need a fresh lullaby and some good sleep tonight because tomorrow is surely going to suck.” “Yeah,” said Derek with dark gloom, “Indeed, it will…”

Part 14: Lightning…

Tuesday felt like a fever dream. Derek’s head was pounding. His heart was racing. I feel hungover, he thought – extremely angry at how his body would fight back when the stress of life and ministry mounted. Freaking weak. Be better. Do better. He stumbled to the bathroom. Dry heaving. Spits and drools. Typical.

Patricia was already downstairs in the kitchen. 5:45am. “What are you doing up so early?” Derek asked. “Babe, I know that you’re going through a lot right now. I wanna make you breakfast. Coffee?” Derek was annoyed at Patricia’s care and concern. Why is she so stinking nice to me? She should be angry at me. I’ve ignored her for weeks and haven’t been actively listening to her for months now. “Yeah,” Derek muttered – grateful for coffee. “But listen. I don’t have time for breakfast. I gotta get to Jared’s girlfriend’s house.” “What? Why? What could he possibly want?” Patricia was clearly annoyed at Derek having to bolt so quickly. Derek looked at the floor, “I don’t know. He texted and said it was serious and needed to talk to me asap.”

The drive to Jared’s girlfriend’s house had Derek’s stomach in knots. He approached a stop sign on the road leading to Jared’s location. The octagonal sign was blinking with red neon lights. The flashing lights momentarily mesmerized Derek as his mind immediately drifted to the first time he found himself in a strip club…

The building…

No windows.

Young, muscley bouncer.

Narrow entrance.

Crowded main floor.

The Men…

Young.

Old.

Surprisingly, women too.

The Dancers…

Nude.

Sad smiles.

High smiles.

Secret aggression.

Sparkling rage.

Deceitful dancing.

The twisted voyeurs…

Wiggles & giggles.

Red neon lights.

Derek shook his head to snap out of it. What the frick am I thinking about that for? Indeed, before Derek had joined the Army as a paratrooper, he had served a small stint with the local police department as a police cadet. He got to experience some of the dirty night life of law enforcement. Stay focused. Come on…

Pulling into the driveway of Jared’s house (really Abby’s house – Jared’s girlfriend), he saw Jared exit the house, Keystone Light in hand. Typical. 6:13am. “Wanna beer?” You have no idea. “No thanks,” Derek responds. Jared lights up a cigarette and inhales deeply. Exhaling, the smoke dances in thick slow-motion movement in front of Derek. “You want to know what sucks?” Jared asks. “What?” Derek responds without emotion. “Nothing is as it seems. [Strong expletives]. My wife is literally f-ing her best friend’s husband right now.” Derek’s mind raced. “What? Haddie? Why would you say that? How do you know?” Jared took a quick swig of his beer. “Easy, Pastor. I still have the keys to MY house. I went back to get some clothes to bring back to Abby’s house, and guess what I found? Holier than thou Haddie…’Willing to fight for our marriage no matter what’…Naked, in the shower, with her best friend’s husband. It’ll be interesting to see how she tries to justify and explain herself with this one!” Jared chugged the rest of the beer and threw the can on the lawn. He continued, “Anyways, do with this information what you will. I’m [strong explitives] done.”

Getting back into his Chevy Blazer, Derek was shaking. Just calm down, idiot. The day has just started. He put the vehicle into drive. His phone rings. It’s Draike. “Yo, what’s up?” Draike is talking fast…”Dude. Where you at? I need you up at the hospital asap. Don’s overdosed again. It’s bad. Like really bad this time…” “It never stops,” Derek responded. “I’ll be up shortly.”

Arriving at the hospital, Derek whips into the only available parking spot in the crowded ER parking lot. Why did they make this parking lot so stinking small? Don’t they know that it never stops. Derek checks his phone. There’s a text message from Hannah. It reads cryptically and dramatically: “I’m so done. It’s not worth it anymore.” Freaking night. Is it a full moon tonight? Has everyone lost their minds? No time for the drama. Got to get to Don.

Derek met Draike at the ER entrance doors. “Let’s go,” Derek says without making eye contact with Draike. They step into line, identify themselves to the front desk receptionist, and are immediately directed to Don’s room. Chaotic scene…

Frail body.

Labored breathing.

Choking.

Gurgling.

Lips candy colored purple.

More chocking.

And then…The seizures…Violent thrashing…A body destroyed.

Hot tears drip from Derek’s face. Why the f does it hurt so bad to see them destroy themselves? Why can’t I just stand here – numb – professional – stoic? Derek wiped the tears from his face and looked directly at Draike. “Pray for us,” Derek commanded Draike. Draike’s prayer was jagged, but beautiful – authentic.

Derek looked at his watch. 10:22am. “I got to get to the office for sermon prep. Do you mind staying here till Don’s Dad can get here?” “You bet,” Draike responds.

Back at the office. 11:05am…

Head pounding.

Difficult to concentrate.

Bible verses seem blurry.

The mind – a soupy mess of intense emotions.

Derek hears rumbling of the rocks in the parking lot. Who could that be? He takes a peek through his office blinds. It’s Emma. One of their senior saints at Kingland Baptist Church. What’s she doing here? She usually makes an appointment. I wonder if Bill is doing okay. Emma steps into Derek’s office. “Hi, Emma. Is everything alright?” “Oh, Pastor. It’s time. Bill is asking for you. He thinks that the end is near.” Indeed, Bill had been on home hospice care for 6 months now. He was expected to pass any day. “I’ll be right over,” Derek responded with genuine pastoral sympathy.

Entering Bill and Emma’s house, he was immediately met with Bill’s oversized hospice bed right smack dab in the middle of the living room….

Bill’s eyes were closed.

Intense labored breathing.

Death rattle.

Emma sheds a tear while gripping Bill’s hand.

Derek opens to Psalm 23. King James Version. He reads the words slowly – with emphasis. He gives a prayer (adoration, confession, thanksgiving, supplication). He gives Emma a hug and says, “Call me as soon as he passes. And remember…Death is not the end.”

Back at the office, he looks at his watch. 3:12pm. His meeting with Caleb is in less than 2 hours. He tries to get back to sermon prep. He types out his notes on the screen…

God is good.

Sin is bad.

Stop doing bad things.

Start looking to God.

The words on his computer screen seemed to taunt him. He chuckled out loud. I went to seminary to learn how to construct this beautiful homily? Totally worth the money…

Draike enters Derek’s office. “You ready for this?” he asks. “Is it that time already?” Derek asks as the anxiety intoxicates him….[Slow motion fear. Rapid heart rate. Arm pits soaked. Time check. 4:56pm. Rumbling of the rocks outside. Car goes into park. Front door opens. Creaking of the steps towards Derek’s office. Caleb. Is. Here…]

Tall.

Stately.

Physically fit.

Pearly white smile.

Strong handshake.

Well dressed.

Intense eye contact.

“Hello, Pastor…How are you?”

Part 13: Game-Time…

Monday came fast and furious. Indeed, Derek’s mind was a mushy blend of suspicion and paranoia. Stealing a glance at his wristwatch, he knew that he needed more sleep, but he just couldn’t. 4:33am. Whatever. I can sleep when this mess is over, he thought to himself with drained energy. As his mind bounced from dark to darker, the coffee pot dinged, indicating a completed brew of the black liquid. He poured himself a mug, sunk two cold ice cubes into it, and guzzled it down quickly. Derek perked up a bit…Got to get to the office. Better call Draike. ‘God, what am I supposed to do? I need to figure this out’…

He drove to the office with a greater recklessness than normal. Surely 70 in a 55 is okay, he reasoned to himself as he pointed his vehicle in the direction of the church. Turning onto the road that led to the darkly lit church building, his stomach churned with anxiety. God, I hate this place…Entering his office, he quickly whipped out his phone to call Draike. “Dude, it’s like 5 in the morning,” Draike said with groggy annoyance. “Mount up. I need you here at the office. We got to figure this crap out,” responded Derek – slightly irritated that Draike could still be sleeping when the church was clearly in a crisis. “Whatever. I’ll be right there,” said Draike.

About 30 minutes later, Draike staggered into Derek’s office, gripping a large travel mug of liquid magic. “Coffee?” asked Derek. “Unfortunately. I wish it were something stronger,” said Draike. Derek snickered, “Yeah, for sure…Well, what are we going to do?” Draike inhaled deeply and then let out his breath slowly. He responded, “Simple is best. Let’s just assemble the deacons for an emergency meeting to make sure we’re all on the same page. And then, well, I guess we need to outright confront Caleb and his crew.” Draike’s advice was always straightforward – black and white – clear advice. Derek had come to appreciate Draike’s uncomplicated plans and ideas. To be sure, Draike didn’t overthink anything. For Draike, right was right and wrong was wrong; and there was simply no if’s, and’s, or but’s about it. Derek responded positively, “I like it. Let’s see if we can get all the guys here for a meeting today.” “I’m on it,” said Draike with somber enthusiasm.

Later that evening, the full Leadership Team had assembled for the emergency meeting. The vibe in the room was thick with fear and uncertainty. No one said a word. Derek went right into it…”So, Caleb has decided to start his own church and is pulling members from our church to join his,” Derek’s voice caught in his throat as his heart raced between rage and regret. Derek tried to continue, “I just don’t understand why he’s doing this. We’ve tried to play ball with him for years. Why would he do this while he’s still a member here? And he was just on the ballot to be one of our deacons in the last election!” As Derek spoke with flashes of anger, Draike nodded with fierce, loyal focus.

The deacons on the Leadership Team did their best to offer words of encouragement and counsel. They advised Derek and Draike to pray, to work towards diplomacy, and to try to stop the mini exodus at the church from becoming a bigger problem. Useless meeting, thought Derek to himself as the quick 1-hour meeting came to a close. I still have no concrete idea of what I should do. Great. Just great…Derek flashed a smile at the end of the meeting, thanked the men for their time, closed in prayer, and dismissed the meeting.

After the deacons left the building, Draike looked straight at Derek and started to laugh. “What’s so funny?” asked Derek. “Oh, you know, it’s just I still don’t have the foggiest clue of what we should do with this whole thing,” Draike said while shaking his head. Derek huffed, “Yeah. You and me both. Let’s just try to get Caleb and his crew into a meeting with us tomorrow.” Derek looked at Draike. Draike looked at Derek. Both knew what the other one was thinking…”Fine. Whatever. I’ll make the call to Caleb,” Derek said to Draike. “Yeah, it’ll probably be better coming from you anyways,” said Draike, totally relieved that he didn’t have to talk to Caleb himself.

Leaving the office, Derek looked at his phone. 4 missed calls. What in the world? He looked at his call log. He had a missed call from Mark (one of his deacons). He must want to have a follow up meeting about the meeting. Probably will offer great advice that he should have mentioned in the meeting. Another missed call was from Hannah (one of his counselees). Great. I really need to get back to her. I wonder how things are going at home for her. Derek’s third missed call was from his wife, Patricia. Man alive, how am I going to handle this crisis and be a good husband at the same time? It is what it is. She’ll understand. His last missed call was from Louis (his Presbyterian pastor-friend who was recently admitted to the psych ward for a mental health breakdown). What in the world?! Why would he be calling me? Derek, almost without thinking and running on pure intuition, immediately called Louis back. It rang twice before Louis picked up. “Hey, Pastor Louis. Pastor Derek here. How ya doing?” Silence met him on the other end of the line. “Hello? Pastor Louis?” “Hey there, Pastor Derek [Awkward, Sinister Silence]. Are you ready to play…’the game’?” “Game? What game are you talking about?” Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. The phone went dead. Derek looked up from his phone call and stared into the cold, dark parking lot in front of the church…Am I ready – to play – the game?

Dear members and friends out here on the prairie,

            “God knows better than me.” If there is one thing that I have been learning (and relearning) over this past year, it’s simply this one truth: “God knows better than me.” Do you find it surprising that I was saved at the age of 4, been in the ministry for 10 years, and am 36 years old and am still learning this simple, elementary truth? Well, if you do, all I can say is that God has been wonderfully patient and kind to me. I may be thick-headed, but this one truth (understood and believed) has slammed my hard heart and released profound blessing into my life.

How I Envisioned The New Year…

            As last year (2022) was coming to a close and a new year (2023) was dawning, I knew that something had to give. To my wife and I’s complete shock and joy, we were expecting our 5^th child (Daxton). I truly thought that Derrick, our adopted son, had rounded out our family and we were going to continue life as a happy family of 6. That was my plan, but God knows better than me. Indeed, as we received news of our 5^th child, I knew that something had to give.

            I was far too busy and overcommitted to various things – good things – but far too busy and overcommitted. At the start of last year (2022), I was stewarding a family of 6, a growing church family, and my responsibilities as the Chairman of the IARBC’s Council of 10. Additionally, I was learning the ropes as the new District Chaplain for the American Legion, actively participating in my local Kiwanis group, and was accepting various invitations to be a guest speaker at churches, schools, and camps. It was all so wonderful and adrenaline-infusing, but it was too much. I knew it. My wife knew it…Something had to give.

            The increasing conviction that I was far too busy and overcommitted continued to rise to the surface of my heart and mind as I participated in Baptist Church Planters’ Leadership Journey. In this excellent men’s discipleship program, I learned the importance of roles and goals, prioritization, and time management. God used this program (and the excellent coaching of our very own Scott Owen) to open my eyes to the reality that every time I said “yes” to something, I was simultaneously saying “no” to something else. And, more often than not, the ones to receive the short end of the stick were God, my family, and my church family. The very relationships that demanded top priority in my life were being squashed by so many other good things, but not ultimate things, in my life.

            So, as last year (2022) was ending and a new year (2023) was starting, I made the following commitment…

“I am committed to focusing on three main things. First, I want to focus on my relationship with the Lord. I want to reignite my relationship with the Lord by focusing on a better devotional life and prayer life. I also want to take more seriously my participation in Baptist Church Planters’ Leadership Journey that will fuel my knowledge and love for the Lord. Second, I want to focus on my relationship with my wife and children. I want them to get more and better time from me. I want to be more present at our family outings and events. Indeed, with my fifth child set to make his debut in just a few weeks, I want to be a better husband and father. Third, I want to focus on my relationship with you – my church family. I want to pray better prayers for you. I want to preach better sermons for you. I want to lead and oversee this church body in better and greater ways.

Since these are my top priorities this year, I promise you that I will not take on any additional ministry responsibilities. Certainly, I must continue in my commitments to our State Fellowship as the Chairman of the Council of 10. Yes, I must still participate in my community roles as a Kiwanis member and Chaplain for the American Legion. But I will not be taking on other leadership roles or responsibilities for this year. This means that I will not be accepting ‘extra-curricular’ speaking engagements at camps or conferences. This also means that I will not be taking part in special ministry events as a committee person or chairperson. For this year, I must take concentrated time to focus on my relationships with the Lord, my family, and church family.”

            Indeed, as I entered 2023, I thought this year was going to be a smooth year of simplicity and focus as I decluttered my life and ministry. I truly thought that this year was going to be a nice reset and refocus year as I got ready to enter my 10^th year of ministry. Yes, this was my nicely packaged 3-step plan, but God knows better than me. He really does. He always does.

How I Received The New Year…

            As the new year hit, I found myself happily productive with a concentrated focus on my relationship with the Lord, my family, and church family. My devotional and prayer life was strengthened as I started to add journaling to my quiet time with the Lord. My new family of 7 was loud, messy, fun, and going here, there, and everywhere, and I was actually participating in more family responsibilities and outings – fully present and enjoying each moment. My wonderful church family was getting more of my best work in terms of preaching and praying. From January – May 2023, I was hitting my goals and truly felt that I was finally focused on what mattered most.

            And then, on Sunday, June 4^th, we, as a church family, entered into Genesis 37, which begins the fascinating storyline of Joseph and the stunning providence of God in Joseph’s life. I was mesmerized. I couldn’t believe what I was reading and studying. With each chapter, my excitement grew, and (at times) the tears would flow fast and hard. Indeed, I couldn’t believe what was happening to me…I was falling deeper in love with the God of Joseph! Like for real…Like for the first time in a long time, God was blowing my mind with the wonders of who He was, is, and always will be. I longed for every Tuesday and Thursday as they were my sermon prep days. On those days, I would read like a fiend, pray like crazy, and write feverishly. Then, on Sundays, I would preach every sermon with all the passion I could muster – sometimes feeling like my heart would pound out of my chest as I could barely contain the excitement about what I was learning, believing, and living in light of. The God of Joseph was, is, and always will be a magnificent God of providence who secretly and supernaturally organizes the natural events of our lives to bring about His desired end state and purposes…And Joseph…Well, he consistently lived his life with this notion that: “God knows better than me.” From the pit to slavery to prison, He chose to love, trust, and follow the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. I was totally captivated by this incredible storyline.

            Then, on Wednesday, July 12, about 30 minutes before we were to sing “Happy Birthday” to our oldest child, my wife and I got a phone call that would forever change our lives – our adopted son, Derrick, had a full-biological brother due on Nov. 12^th. The birthparents wanted us to adopt this baby boy in order to keep the siblings together. 6 kids?! Yes. Yes, indeed. Why? Because God knows better than me. His plans are best. His ways are perfect.

            Prairie Flower, the God of Joseph is my God. He weaves together the story of our lives to magnify His glory and gospel. We just have to choose to trust Him – or not – but the choice is ours. For me, it’s such a sweet relief to know that I’m not in charge of my own life – God’s the boss – and He actually knows better than I. The God that I fell deeper in love with as I preached through the Joseph narrative actually showed up in my life (right in the middle of our Genesis mini-series) and essentially said, “David, are you ready? Do you trust me? I want you to jump into the mysterious unknown, and don’t worry – I’ll be with you and your wife, though you don’t know what’s going to happen. Just trust me, and don’t look down, just focus on me. No matter what, I got you.” So, with that, I led my wife, and we both jumped, and are still in a freefall into a mysterious unknown that is fully known only by our great and good God.

How I Submit To The One Who Holds Next Year…

            So, as we enter into this new fiscal year (2023-2024), I submit to the One who knows the future. Do I have plans, goals, and strategies? Sure…I guess, but God knows better than me. So, with open palms I surrender my will to the One who made me and called me into His service. God knows best. His plans are perfect. And even the horrible things that happen to us this side of Heaven will play out for our good and His glory. With that in mind, I humbly submit the following goals into our Sovereign’s hands…

1. Shepherd the Church Towards the Lay Pastor Initiative – Lord willing, we will be able to increase the pastoral staff by means of adding lay pastors to the current staff pastors. Currently, we are on a strategic pause in terms of this initiative in order to devote more time to prayer over this important leadership change. Lord willing, talks between the current pastors and the deacons on the Lay Pastor Initiative will resume in January 2024.
2. Lead the Church into the Great Exchange Network – Lord willing, Pastor Tim and I will attend the first ever Great Exchange Network’s Conference in October. This network is being started by Soteria Church in order to facilitate better evangelism, discipleship, and church planting efforts in our state association. I’m excited at all the possibilities that being a part of this network will afford our church family as we seek to be on mission “to be a strong church that makes disciples for the glory of God.”
3. Facilitate More and Better Leadership Journey Discipleship Groups – God has used Baptist Church Planters’ Leadership Journey in a big way in the life of our church family. I, personally, have been impacted in huge ways as a result of this program. I’m excited at the possibility of more men in our church family becoming better husbands, fathers, and leaders in their own spheres of influence as a result of Leadership Journey.

But We’ll See What God Has In Store For Us – Because – Well – He Knows Better Than Us,

David Cotner

Lead Pastor, PFBC

My name is David Cotner, and I am an Army Veteran. I served from 2006-2010, deploying twice in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom. My job? I was a paratrooper (i.e., I jumped out of airplanes) and was an All-Source Intelligence Analyst for the 10th Special Forces Group (based out of Fort Carson, Colorado).

My position demanded a top-secret security clearance. Indeed, I loved the world of secrets. I took great pride in the fact that my intel analysis helped drive combat operations, leading to the death and arrest of multiple high value targets–many of them foreign fighters. I’m an adrenaline junkie by nature, and this job provided enough adrenaline to last a lifetime of memories.

After my time in the U.S. Army, I got married and headed to Faith Baptist Bible College (FBBC) in Ankeny, Iowa for pastoral training. I studied there from 2010-2014. At the time, I thought my soldier days were behind me. Little did I know that I had entered a Warfighting School in the middle of Iowa. I thought I was going to FBBC to train for ministry. Little did I know I was going to FBBC to train for war.

I entered pastoral ministry at Prairie Flower Baptist Church in November of 2013 (at the tail end of my senior year at FBBC). After the excitement of a new ministry position faded, the reality of war became extremely visible to me. This war was all around me. I encountered division, death, divorce, drugs, and disapproval of my performance as a pastor. As I battled to shepherd this tiny but precious flock of people in the middle of a cornfield, the war all around me soon became a messy war inside of me. The destruction around me began to splinter my heart, leading me toward depression and a battle with a thick, thick darkness. At the height of my pain that was altogether physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual, I contemplated ending it all in the spring of 2018.

Ironically, my life verse ever since I was a young believer has been 2 Timothy 2:2-3, “share in suffering as a good soldier of Christ Jesus. No soldier gets entangled in civilian pursuits, since his aim is to please the one who enlisted him.” Apropos for the military–and the ministry. Through the loving support of my wife, understanding ministry partners, and a healthy dose of Biblical counseling, I was able to regain my focus and soldier on. The apex of my deepest pain was five years ago. But by the grace of God, I’ve been able to soldier on for another five years and am eager to reach my 10-year mark this November as the Lead Pastor of Prairie Flower Baptist Church.

Folks, make no mistake about it and don’t get it twisted–the Christian life is war. Pastoral ministry is the tip of the spear in this spiritual war as pastors lead their people to beat back the darkness with true Gospel Hope. Part of soldiering on requires a mindset of perseverance through the darkest night of the soul. What does this mindset look like? The U.S. Army entrenches this mindset in something they call the “Warrior Ethos,” which states: “I will always place the mission first. I will never accept defeat. I will never quit. I will never leave a fallen comrade.” As believers, our mission is clear, namely, to advance the Gospel in word and deed. Because this is our mission, the world, the flesh, and the Devil will seek to either kill us (literally) or minimize our effectiveness by driving us into a plethora of besetting sins. So, we must quickly put to death the temptations around us, choosing to never accept defeat–to never quit. Along the way, you and I will find fallen fellow soldiers who’ve been wounded by the enemy or by their own foolishness. Don’t. Leave. Them. Behind. Help, encourage, counsel, and point them to our loving Commander: Jesus, who has promised to never leave us or forsake us.

To the current students of FBBC, soldier on. The darkness is thick out there, but so is Gospel Hope. Don’t give up. Don’t give in. Press forward–soldier on. Take your studies at FBBC seriously. You’re not just in a Bible College. You’re in a Warfighting School. You’re being prepared for life, for ministry, and for war. As a no-name pastor in the middle of a cornfield, I can promise you that we need more fighters on the frontlines. Who will join me? Who will answer the call to snatch souls from the fire? Who is ready to lay it all on the line? The answer is you. So, practice now how to mount up, catch grenades, dodge darts, and soldier on for the glory of our perfect Commander. I promise you that your practice of these vital skills will not be in vain. Soldier on!

Author’s Note: I will no longer attach previous parts/episodes to the new part/episode that I post each week. If interested in previous parts/episodes of this storyline, please see previous posts. Thanks for reading!

Part 12: Foggy…

Derek could hardly believe his ears. Pregnant? Another child?! I’m not ready for this! “5 kids! I can’t believe it,” Derek finally emoted to Patricia, walking over to give her a big hug. Patricia was trembling with joy and excitement. Derek could feel the intensity of her emotions as he stood there with her in the kitchen. As he embraced Patricia, his mind swirled with the fog of war. Guess it’s not time to die, Derek thought to himself…Not. Time. To. Die.

The next day was Sunday – a day Derek had come to love and hate all at the same time. He loved his moment to preach from the Bible. He truly found the Bible to be fascinating – “life and light”, he frequently referred to the Scriptures as. But he also hated Sundays because that’s the day where tribal leaders of various church factions would meet to plot, organize, and advance their specific pet peeve missions. Whether it was tribal leaders feuding over music styles or church politics, there was never a shortage of unnecessary drama and brewing division on Sundays at church.

As was his usual style, Derek prayed as he got ready to head to the church. Brushing his teeth, he tried to talk to the Lord, but the words in his brain fell flat. God, you know I love you, but…Derek’s mind was a mushy blend of foggy thoughts…He tried again…God, I do love you…His mind continued to dance in a plethora of different directions…Indeed, as he prayed, his mind seemed to dance to disco music in a dark and crowded room…

Spitting the rest of the toothpaste out of his mouth, Derek was “ready” for church. It’s go time. Let’s just get this done and over with…

As Derek stood in the sanctuary, he sang with the congregation. He stood in the front row of the sanctuary. A perfect spot to get stabbed in the back, Derek darkly thought to himself. Man alive, this place is packed out. Why are they all here? And do they really believe what they’re all singing? Each song in the set list, made Derek more irritable and anxious. There was a song about the love of Christ. There’s no love here – just hate – just war. There was another song about the joy of Christ. There’s no joy here – just misery – just war. There was yet another song about the peace of Christ. There’s no peace here – just conflict – just war...God, help me! I need to focus. Please get rid of this carnal, foggy, irritable thinking…As the last song faded, Derek took to the platform, Bible and sermon notes in hand. “Good morning!”, Derek said with an enthusiasm that almost shocked himself. “Hope you all are doing well on this beautiful Lord’s Day that God has given to us. Say, just before we get going with today’s message – a message that I’m sure will be encouraging to each of our hearts – my wife and I have some very exciting news…We’re pregnant with baby #5!” As the words slipped from his mouth, the congregation erupted in thunderous applause with a few shouts of “Amen! Praise the Lord!” Even my enemies are clapping right now, Derek thought to himself with slight amusement. “Thank you. We’re both very excited. Well, let’s get to work. If you have a Bible, please turn with me to…”

The message was a solid 50 minutes. Derek had spoken on the need for courage in dark and difficult days. He was passionate, precise, and personable. The congregation listened with eagerness and seemed to be genuinely helped by the sermon. Indeed, most of the congregation loved Derek’s preaching, eager to hear him week after week. But as Derek descended from the platform, his mind became foggy again…Terrible sermon. Wish I could re-preach it. I honestly wonder why I suck so bad at this. Hope no one leaves the church over another dud sermon. And Derek honestly believed this. In fact, 9 out of 10 times, he would leave the preaching platform annoyed with himself, desiring to do better. The pursuit of the perfect sermon was an absolute obsession for Derek. And as always, he thought to himself, I’ll try again next Sunday…

As the final song came to a close, and the dismissal was given, Derek turned around to see two long-time (and prominent in the community) members walk towards him – Paul & Bob. “Pastor, nice sermon. Hey, we need to talk. It’s kind of urgent and private. Can we meet in your office?” Paul was clearly the spokesman as Bob just stood there in silence with a grave look on his face. “Sure,” Derek said, dreading what was to come.

As they got to Derek’s office, Paul went right into it. “Pastor, have you seen this?” Paul shoved his phone inches from Derek’s face. “Pastor, they’re starting their own church. They plan to take about a 1/3 of the congregation with them.” Paul’s voice began to catch in his throat as the emotions of his anger rushed to the surface. “It’s mutiny,” Bob said flatly and in a monotone. “They’re going to kill the church,” Paul responded back. “Pastor, what do you want us to do?” Paul and Bob looked directly at Derek, but Derek was frozen into place – foggy and frail…”Pastor? We’ve got to do something.” But Derek was far, far away…

 

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Author’s Note: This story, “Catching Grenades – Dodging Darts – A Story of Pastoral Affliction” is based on a true story. My story. Granted, all of these events have played out over the course of my 10 years in pastoral ministry, but they really happened. Please note that the names and identities of the various people in my life and ministry have been changed in this story to protect the privacy of the real-life characters they portray.

Some may wonder, “Why write on such a dark topic? What’s the purpose?” Well, I want my readers to have a better understanding of pastoral ministry, spiritual warfare, and the pastors who are literally the tip of the spear in this war against the world, the flesh, and the Devil. As I often say, “Pastoral ministry may be many things, but it’s certainly never boring.” Pastoral ministry isn’t simply preaching sermons and telling kids Bible stories, it’s a war against the Forces of Evil. Thus, the title, “Catching Grenades – Dodging Darts”. That is to say, pastoral ministry often feels like a death match in which you have to quickly pick up a live grenade and throw it back at the enemy, hoping that the kill radius doesn’t hurt or injure you. In addition, pastoral ministry often feels like a constant game of dodging the gnarly darts or arrows of the Evil One. Indeed, I have spent time in real life combat zones and have never experienced such intense darkness, depravity, and depression as is found in pastoral ministry. 

To those of you who read this story consistently, thank you. I know that it’s hard to read this story at times, but it will be good for you in the long run. Indeed, I started writing this story in 2018 during my sabbatical from Prairie Flower Baptist Church. It took me 5 years to actually muster the courage to put this story out there for the “world” to read. I honestly thought that people would think that I’m crazier than the “crazy vibe” I already give off to people. But the time to share this story is now.

Yes, I know that there are critics out there who honestly believe that this story is grossly inappropriate, not wise to share, etc. These are criticisms that I have come to embrace and accept. And I partly agree with my critics. As Frodo once said, “I wish the Ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened.” But they did. 

I also know that there are consistent readers of this story every week. WordPress tracks very carefully how many people read this story. I’m at a consistent 50 readers a week. So, I’m basically headed to the New York Times Best Sellers’ list 😉 But for those of you who read this story consistently, thank you. And don’t be shy to “like” or “share” this story. Doing so doesn’t validate (or give applause of) the dark emotions and themes in this story, it simply gets this story out there to a wider audience who might be strangely comforted by one man’s story about fighting a very real and pervasive darkness. Indeed, the darkness is truly thick out there, but so is Gospel hope…Part 11 of this story is next. It’s the darkest episode yet. But bear in mind…I’m. Still. Alive. Yes, by the grace and mercy of God, I’m still alive and I’m still in the fight. So, buckle your seat belts for Part 11 of “Catching Grenades – Dodging Darts – A Story of Pastoral Affliction”…

Part 11: Suicidal…

A few days had passed since Derek’s visit to the ER, and today was Saturday – Derek’s day off. He got dressed for the day – blue jeans, a flannel shirt, and boots. I look like a poser, Derek thought to himself. Well, at least I fit in well with the Midwest farming theme, he thought as he chuckled to himself. He then kissed Patricia and headed out the door. He was headed towards the Ace Hardware store in town. His mission? To buy new 9mm rounds for his handgun.

Stepping into Ace, he was greeted warmly by an all too eager and heavily caffeinated sales associate. “Good morning! Is there anything I can help you with?” “9mm rounds,” Derek said without much expression. “Right this way,” the sales associate responded, leading the way towards the guns and ammo section of the well-stocked store. 

Derek surveyed his options. Man alive, these rounds are expensive, Derek thought to himself as he scanned the ammo supply, looking for the best bang for his buck. “I’ll take those,” Derek said, pointing to a 50-cartridge box from Ammo Incorporated. He walked up to the front register. “That’ll be $26.74,” said the salesclerk. Derek swiped his card. “Thank you,” the cashier said with a smile as Derek took his box of ammo and headed out the door. 

Stepping into his Chevy Blazer, Derek sighed as he placed the ammo box in the passenger seat next to him. He then opened the box to examine the rounds. Picking one up, he wiggled it in his hand, feeling the tiny weight and watching the glimmer of the casing as the sun hit it through his windshield. Just then his phone buzzed. It was Ronny – a highly emotional and impulsive gentleman, he seemed to thrive from one crisis point to another. Derek looked at his text. Cryptic as usual…Derek read the text out loud, “Maybe it would be best if I just went away…” Perfect timing, Derek thought as he stole another peak at the ammo rounds next to him. “Something’s come up,” Derek texted Patricia. “Need to head to the office…”

As Derek pulled into the church parking lot, he noticed a small object near the front door. Getting out of his Chevy to examine it, he saw what it was – a dead bird. Really, God?! Birds were hugely symbolic for Derek. He viewed them as a sign of God’s forever faithfulness, often counting each bird he saw on the one-mile stretch of road that led to the church building from the main highway. His wife was also particularly fond of birds as she viewed them as a symbol of each of their 4 children (girl, boy, girl, boy). I guess God’s faithfulness is dead, Derek thought to himself as a thick darkness seemed to envelop him as he walked through the church doors to his office down the hall.

Stopping at his desk, Derek reached for his handgun at the small of his back. It felt heavier than normal in his hand. He levitated it toward his bicep as if curling a weight. Maybe it would be best if I just went away, Derek thought with a flash of anger and sadness. He positioned the gun towards his right temple, feeling the cold steel next to his skin. Anger, rage, sadness, and depression rushed upon him like gooey lava from an open, active volcano. His mind raced. The last 7 years of his pastoral ministry seemed to be a glorious, gory mess of broken marriages, wayward children, lost jobs, natural disasters, medical emergencies, secret addictions, and feuding factions in the church. No one seemed to be helped by his preaching or the plethora of counseling sessions he had conducted over the years. It’s all been a waste. I’m just fooling myself to think that l can make a difference. In the end, people do whatever they want to do. His mind continued to race. In addition to the big crises over the years, there were all the little ministry annoyances that collected on Derek’s back – a slow death by a thousand cuts…People complaining, hurt feelings, misunderstandings, half-truths, and unreasonable expectations. I guess I’m just one big disappointment. Pastoral Ministry = Failure.

As Derek continued to ponder the last 7 years of his ministry, devilish thoughts percolated in his mind. Even the Bible says, “To die is gain”, Derek reasoned to himself. And then, that all too familiar, comforting, and ominous voice: “Yes! To DIE is gain. To die IS gain. To die is GAIN.” The dark words seemed to hiss at him with pinpoint precision and a frenzied passion. To die is gain…Indeed, what better way to get back at all these people and the untold hurt they’ve inflicted upon me and my family. I’ll just end it all right here…Or, better yet, on the platform in the sanctuary. That’ll teach ‘em! “Do it. Just man up…And do it,” the voice from the darkness hissed with delight. “It’ll all be over soon…”

Just then, Derek’s phone began to ring, jolting Derek from his suicidal fantasy. It was Patricia. He contemplated ignoring it, but he picked it up. “Yes, babe?” “Hey, when do you think you’ll be home? I have some exciting news to share with you!” Patricia was clearly excited. Her voice was elevated and rapid. Derek’s voice began to catch in his throat. So, clearing his throat, he said, “Can’t you just tell me the news over the phone?” “Nope! I need to tell you in person. You’re going to love it!” “I’ll be right over,” Derek said, faking enthusiasm for what awaited him at home.

Derek placed the handgun back in the small of his back. Soon, he thought to himself. Soon. He locked his office door, stepped out of the church building, and got into his vehicle…Pulling into his driveway, he thought, I’ll just get this surprise over with and then head back to the office. I’ll tell her that it’s Ronny again. She’ll understand… Stepping through the door to his home, Patricia was wide eyed and bouncing with excitement. “What’s up?!”, Derek asked as he tried to match her excitement. “Well, I know that you’ve had quite the busy year at work, but I think this will brighten your day and redeem this whole messy year for you!” Patricia’s hands were behind her back. Derek looked right into her eyes. They gleamed with joy and hope. He looked down at her waistline. What’s behind her back? Patricia couldn’t conceal her secret any longer…She took her hands from behind her back and revealed a blue and white plastic device with two little pink lines. “We’re pregnant!”

Part 10: Vomit…

Derek muddled his way through some sort of makeshift homily, attempting through the fog of his own personal grief to offer Haddie some measure of hope. “Haddie? Haddie Nobels?”, came the inquisitive voice of a pretty nurse at the ER entrance double doors. Derek’s train of thought was immediately interrupted. It didn’t really matter though because Haddie was only half paying attention as the razor blade wounds on her arm began to cause her some pretty intense pain. “I’ve – I’ve got to go,” Haddie tiredly, but politely said to Derek. Derek smiled, “Absolutely,” he responded, immediately second guessing if the smile was too much for such a pain-filled moment. No time to overanalyze. It’s time to go see Don…

Entering Don’s hospital room, Derek and Draike were immediately met with a plethora of digital sights and sounds that smashed them into sensory overload. Squinting his eyes to focus his mushy brain, Derek fixated his gaze on Don. Don looked weak – pathetic – destroyed. His body was convulsing in a non-rhythmic pattern that frightened Derek. He’s going to die, Derek thought without hesitation. But his train of thought immediately derailed as Don began to cough up blood and vomit. The stench was immediately recognizable to Draike (a former Army Infantry Soldier)…Smells like war – smells like death, Draike thought to himself…

“Move! Out of the way!”, came the shouts of commands from a whole slew of doctors and nurses. “We’re going to need you guys to leave,” a hyped-up doctor said with focused determination. Derek and Draike immediately obeyed, exiting the room.

As they sat outside, they both could hear the distinct commands of the doctors and the swift movement of machines to rescue a drug-induced life. “Do you think he’s going to make it?”, Derek asked Draike while fixating his gaze towards the floor. “I don’t know. Let’s just pray for
him right here – right now.” “Okay. I’ll go first,” Derek said, slightly irritated that he hadn’t initiated such a spiritual response to a difficult and fear-inducing moment. Derek began, “Father God, I come to you because you are God, and I am not. Indeed, you are perfectly holy, and I am not. You are perfectly loving, and I am not. You are perfectly sovereign, and I am not. And God, I confess that I am a sinful man, plagued by so many struggles. Forgive me. Grant me your mercy. And God, I come to you on behalf of Don – Don Freeman. God, he needs you. Ultimately, the only one who can help him is you. So, Father, I am begging you, despite all that he is and all that he’s not, would you spare Don’s life? Would you grant strength and skill to all those doctors and nurses in there, working like crazy to rescue his life from death. [His voice began to crackle with deep sorrow and overwhelming compassion…He struggled but continued on]. God, shorten my life and give to him years from my life. I’m serious, God, I’m asking that you, in your perfect providence and amazing power, shave off some years of my life and give them to Don. He just needs more time to really get to know you. To find his hope in you. To find his ultimate delight in you. To find that you are so much better than any high from any drug. He. Just. Needs. More. Time. God, you are good and do good; and I’m asking that you play out this whole thing for Don’s good – and your great glory. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”

A tear splashed to the sterile hospital floor. Derek quickly wiped his face, hoping Draike didn’t see his emotional turmoil. Draike didn’t notice. He was busy looking at the flurry of activity all around him. So many people in pain, Draike thought to himself. “Dude, do you really believe all
that stuff?”, Draike asked Derek with genuine interest. “What are you talking about?”, Derek responded. “Like God being holy, sovereign…loving? I mean, you ended your prayer expressing your thoughts on God’s goodness! Look around. Do you really believe all of that? And not like a
pastor…But as a person…Do you really believe all of that stuff?” Derek was terrified of such a direct question. Is he losing faith? Is he beginning to doubt our God? Does he sense that I’m spiritually weak and fragile right now? Is Draike testing me right now? Why would he ask me this? “Of course,” Derek responded, furrowing his eyebrows to study Draike’s face as he looked for non-verbal clues that would unearth the motivation behind such a probing question. “Well, good,” Draike said without much emotion. “But, if I can be honest?”, Draike stared straight into Derek’s eyes. “Of course,” Derek responded, immediately regretting using the “of course” line twice in a row and also worried at what Draike would say. “Well, we’ve been through some crap over the years. It seems like pastoral ministry is just a caravan of craziness that leads us from one disaster to another. It’s not that I’m losing faith, but [Draike paused to collect his thoughts…He hesitated but eked out], but I’m feeling crusty. Dried up. About to break. Does that make sense?” Derek took an involuntary big gulp of saliva. “More than you know,” Derek replied.

“Let’s get out of here,” Draike said, jumping to his feet with renewed energy. “Yeah,” Derek said, pulling out his phone. He had a text message. It was from the Lockers…A troubled family, plagued by average intelligence and hyper-emotionalism. They were some of Derek’s worst critics, complaining about everything from his preaching length to how the nursery was staffed. Derek sighed as he opened the text message from Ethan Locker (the husband and father). It was a long text. A short story really. It was written with unnecessary formalism. It began, “Pastor Stevens, we regret to inform you…” Derek quickly skimmed through the rest of the poorly written text that clearly oozed of a person who was swinging way outside of their intellectual bandwidth…They were leaving the church. Finally, Derek thought. He looked at Draike as they walked out of the ER towards the hospital exit sign, “The Lockers are leaving the church…” Draike smiled and raised his hand high. Derek smacked it – hard – with excitement. Draike emoted, “That’s something worth high fiving and…celebrating! Let’s get some pizza. You hungry?” “Ha! After the smell of blood and vomit? [Derek paused for dramatic effect…] You bet!” Draike laughed, “Yeah, buddy!”Part 9: Happy…

Heading onto the interstate, Derek’s mind was a messy swirl of dark thoughts. Must. Stop. Overthinking. He reached for the radio and turned it on. He was met with the following song. It was new to him. So, he turned it up – loud, very loud…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vhumOLNSSJY

As these song lyrics blared in his old Chevy Blazer, the tears began to thickly drip from his eyes and onto his thin cheekbones…Why can’t we all just be happy? Why is there so much pain in this world? Why does everything have to freaking hurt so much? Is Don gonna be okay? How in the world can I help him now? “AHHHH!”, Derek screamed as he tried to unhinge himself from the dark, depressing thoughts of his foggy mind.

Whipping into the ER parking lot, Derek and Draike arrived nearly at the same time. “Speed much?”, Draike asked Derek, chuckling to himself. “Indeed. Let’s get in there and visit with Don.”, Derek said with the intensity of a solider on a mission.

Stepping into the hospital, the ER waiting room was beyond crowded. Nearly every chair was filled with people holding bandages, doubled over in pain, and looking exhausted with surprise grief. Such a scene was strangely comforting to both Derek and Draike. This was their domain. This is where they felt most – alive. Being in the center of chaos, pain, urgency, and intensity fueled their adrenaline, causing them to embrace life (full throttle), even as death closed in on them from all sides. Indeed, for Derek he felt most comfortable and free in the pulpit and in the hospital. “Time to get to work,” Derek said to Draike. “Got your Bible?”, Derek asked. “Always,” responded Draike, holding up his tattered leather brown Bible as if it were a literal sword.

As Derek and Draike stepped into the ER registration line, Derek looked around the ER waiting room. Is that Haddie?! “Hold on a sec,” Derek said to Draike, quickly stepping out of the line to approach what seemed to be a haggard, greyish version of Haddie Nobels. “Haddie?”, Derek asked nervously. No response. “Haddie? Is that you?” “Yes, Pastor. I’m not doing too well. I cut myself.” Derek looked down to see Haddie holding her left arm with a green towel. “What happened?”, Derek asked. Haddie took the towel off to reveal deep razor blade cuts up and down her arm. “Oh, Haddie,” Derek said with unreserved grief. “Why?” Haddie looked up. “I’m just so unhappy…”

Part 8: Drugs…

Derek’s eyes immediately popped open. He grabbed his phone to ascertain the time. 4:56am. Perfect…Just 4 hours of sleep. He then immediately remembered one of his drill sergeants from Army Basic Training. His loud, domineering voice of authority echoed in Derek’s brain, “All you need is 4 hours of sleep (in non-consecutive order) to be fighting, battle ready! No complaining. Let’s get after it, men!” A smile of pessimism crossed his face. “I guess I’m battle ready,” Derek whispered to himself.

Climbing back up the stairs from the living room, Derek stumbled into the bathroom. Closing the door, he turned on the light and stepped on to the scale. 164 pounds. Great. Another five pounds lost, Derek nervously thought. Indeed, before the trauma of this year, Derek was a solid 180 pounds. But as winter morphed into spring, and spring into summer, and now summer into fall, Derek had lost a total of 16 pounds. He just couldn’t eat. Absolutely no appetite. Indeed, when there was work to do and a crisis to handle, Derek hardly ate – and (now) he was hardly sleeping. I’ll regain the muscle mass later, Derek optimistically thought to himself. I don’t need food right now. I just need to fix this mess…

After heading back down the stairs, he made himself a quick cup of coffee and headed to the office to get a head start on the day. Arriving at his office, he surveyed his to-do list: 1) Check in with Haddie and pray with her over the phone, 2) Call Hannah back and reschedule counseling, 3) Visit with Louis in the psych ward and offer support, and 4) Conduct Staff Meeting with Draike. Draike! That’s right…He gets back from his three-week Missions‘ Trip today, Derek thought to himself as a surge of dopamine quickly flooded his brain.

Draike Samuels was Derek Stevens’ right-hand man – his Associate Pastor. For the last seven years, the two of them were an unstoppable duo of passion and precision. Indeed, both of them came from similar backgrounds. Derek had served in the Army and had been deployed twice to Iraq. Draike had also served in the Army and had been deployed twice to Afghanistan. Derek was an Intel Analyst. Draike had been an Infantry Soldier. Derek was an airborne paratrooper. Draike had been an air assault soldier…The two of them frequently gave each other a hard time, joking hard corps of who had more of an impact while in the service. “Airborne is superior to air assault,” Derek would emphatically state. “There hasn’t been a legitimate, guts and glory airborne operation since World War 2,” Draike would consistently pipe back. “Intel drives combat operations,” Derek would crack back. “Infantry is the Queen of Battle,” Draike would consistently and factually reply back. “Yeah, but who’s the King?”, Derek always questioned back with a grin on his face. Yes, these two were combat vets, family men, and now pastoring in the same church together. Derek truly considered the two of them as “David & Jonathan”, “Frodo & Sam”, or a “Batman & Robin” combo.

As Derek continued to daydream in his office, Draike walked into the office. Derek moved towards him with enthusiasm and embraced him. “Welcome home, brother! How was your trip to Ukraine?!” Draike responded, “Exhausting, but good.” “That’s good to hear,” Derek responded, “But why are you here so early?” “Just wanted to get a jump on the day,” Draike answered. “My man,” Derek said. “Well, it’s 6:30am. Might as well get rolling with our Staff Meeting, if that’s okay with you?” “Absolutely. Let’s knock it out,” Draike responded.

After spending some time in prayer for their church family, Derek and Draike began to go over the preaching schedule for the rest of the year, both of them agreeing that a mini-series on the suffering of man and the sovereignty of God was exactly where they needed to direct the congregation in terms of preaching and teaching for the rest of the year. They also went over the fall ministries of the church and divided out different administrative responsibilities (mostly in regard to recruiting an adequate volunteer force for each ministry). They also did some slight visioneering for the future, dreaming about what could be (and should be) in the life of their church. Visioneering was Derek’s favorite part of his weekly Staff Meetings with Draike. They would simply spend some time dreaming of how to make the church better, stronger, and more efficient in the great work of sharing the Gospel with others.

Towards the tail end of their meeting, they both looked at each other. Both of them clearly reading the other person’s mind. “You ready for this?”, Derek dryly asked. “No, but let’s get on with it,” Draike replied. Derek then brought Draike up to speed with all the issues, problems, and fires raging in their small church family. Derek updated Draike on the Nobels’ crumbling marriage, Jason’s secret baby with Abby, Hannah’s recent counseling “progress”, their pastor-friend (Louis) having a mental breakdown and entering the psych ward, and a few other families that had reached out with vague requests for help over complicated situations. “Okay. So, what do you want to tackle first?”, Draike responded straightforwardly.

Just then the church phone began to ring. “9:00 on the money,” Derek excitedly said to Draike. “This is Kingland Baptist Church. Pastor Stevens speaking.” Strong profanity immediately met him over the line. “Pastor, I need you at the hospital right now!” It was Sam Freeman, a new believer and church member who swore like a sailor. Derek could hear the panic and fear in Sam’s voice. “What happened?!”, Derek asked with concern. “It’s my son, Don, he [more strong profanity] overdosed. God, I hate meth. I swear to you, I’ll find the person who sold to him, and I’ll kill him!” “Pastor Samuels and I are headed to the hospital right now. We’ll meet you there. Hang tight.” Derek hung up the phone and looked directly at Draike. “It’s time to mount up…Don Freeman has just overdosed on meth.” “Let’s go,” Draike emphatically responded.

Getting into their vehicles, Derek paused for a moment and then asked Draike, “Did you ever think the ministry would be this chaotic and insane?” Draike chuckled, “No, but it sure makes things fun, huh?” “Fun? You and I have two very different definitions of fun,” Derek chuckled back. “Yeah, that’s because you’re just an Intel Nerd,” Draike quipped back. “Touché,” Derek responded. Just then, Derek felt a shiver come across his body. He looked up. The sky was grey with specks of flurries in the air. “Snow? In October?” “Yeah,” Draike responded, “Winter’s coming.” “Indeed,” Derek acknowledged. Winter’s coming…And winter was the absolute worst season for Derek. During this season, his depression would spike and his battle with the darkness always intensified. Good thing I’m in optimal fighting condition right now, Derek sarcastically thought to himself as he and Draike pulled out of the church parking lot and headed to the hospital…

Part 7: Stuck…

Getting into his Chevy, Derek was more than exhausted. His body felt heavy as he settled into the driver’s seat. With a tiny groan, and his hand making a sloth-like movement toward the rearview mirror, he stole a peek at his face. It was red, and his eyes were clearly puffy. He grimaced at himself, annoyed at his sorrowful humanity. Then, with a burst of energy and emotion, he pointed at his reflection and angrily whispered, “I. Resign!” He continued to stare at his reddish, puffy reflection, fully expecting for the face in the mirror to respond back with some sort of independent validation of his dogmatic statement…He paused for a few moments more…”Yeah right,” he gently whispered to himself as he put the Chevy into drive and made his way out of Haddie’s driveway. “Yeah, you’re just going to suck it up and drive on,” Derek said, continuing his monologue towards home.

Just then, his phone began to buzz. What is it now? Derek picked up his phone. It was Hannah, his counselee from earlier that day. What could she possibly want now? Honestly, I don’t have time for this. Derek looked at the clock in his Chevy. 3:23pm stared back at him from the dashboard. Well, I have the time, but I don’t really have the energy right now, Derek resolutely thought to himself as he silenced his phone, feeling slightly guilty for redirecting Hannah towards his voicemail. She’ll be all right. I will talk with her tomorrow. I just don’t have the strength to deal with another problem or issue today…

Pulling into his driveway, Derek felt relief. Home. Sweet. Home. Derek was truly looking forward to seeing his wife, Patricia, and spending a relaxing evening with her and their four kids, eating a nice dinner. A smile crossed his face. “It’s so good to be home,” he whispered to himself. Just then, his phone alerted him to an incoming text message. His smile faded, replaced with an intense focus….What the blazes now? He picked up his phone to see that one of his deacons, Robert Goodman, had texted him. Robert’s text was simple and direct: “Have you heard about what happened to Louis?” Louis? The Presbyterian Pastor in town? Derek texted back, “No. What happened?” Robert’s reply was quick and clear: “Apparently, he’s suffered a mental breakdown and has been admitted to the psych ward for evaluation…” Another positive and uplifting message, Derek thought with dreary gloom. “Thanks for letting me know. I will keep him in prayer and visit him as I am able…” Derek wrote back.

Entering his home, Derek was immediately met with a flurry of activity. Patricia was slaving away in the kitchen, making dinner…And the kids? The kids were fighting. “Give it back!” yelled his oldest daughter, Becky (age 10). “No! Mooooom!” shouted his youngest son, Travis (age 5). “Can you please handle this?” Patricia asked Derek with frustrated overtones that clearly indicated that she had been having quite the day herself. “I’ll take care of it,” Derek said, irritated that his perfect vision of a quiet evening at home had been shattered by the reality of a busy home life…

Later that evening, Derek and Patricia crawled into bed. “How was your day?” Patricia sleepily asked Derek. “A trainwreck,” Derek dryly replied. “Oh, what happened?!” Patricia asked, suddenly energized with genuine wifely concern. Derek didn’t have the energy to sugarcoat anything. “Well, freaking Jared got his girlfriend, Abby, pregnant. He’s already left Haddie, and, apparently, is getting ready to restart his life with Abby and their new baby girl that’s coming.” Patricia was flabbergasted, but managed to emote, “Oh, my! Poor Haddie. And their three precious girls!” “Yeah,” Derek said gloomily. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Let’s just get some sleep.” “Ok, but are you okay?” Patricia asked with deep concern. “No,” said Derek flatly. “But it is what it is. Let’s just get some sleep.”

Sleep came fast and furious for Derek. Indeed, he fell into a deep sleep, and as he slept, he dreamed a dream…Before him stood a mansion – a glorious mansion, imbedded with immense wealth, deep history, and breathtaking majesty. Indeed, it was beyond beautiful, and yet, it carried a sinister, invitational horror. But such thoughts quickly evaporated as Derek, viewing himself from above, saw himself holding his wife’s hand. Intense feelings of pleasure erupted from him as he saw himself dressed in an expensive tux with his wife wearing an equally expensive, sparkling, and elegant dress that waved in the soft wind with dramatic flair. She looked absolutely mesmerizing. And in this moment, he was (truly) happy…

Entering the mansion, Derek was swept away with the grandeur of the mansion. Everywhere his eyes turned he saw wealth, history, beauty, and power. Indeed, the house was filled with party guests, all of them clearly people of high importance, royal in appearance, and oozing of old money. Quickly brushing off thoughts of his own inferiority, Derek and his wife were whisked away with the pomp and circumstance of the party. Everything was top shelf! The food was divine, the conversations were stimulating, and the entertainment was grade A. Everyone was having the time of their lives.

Gathered around the stately dining room table, the party guests were deeply and energetically enraptured by the bounteous feast and the riveting conversations. This was a party like none other! But just then, the phone began to ring. The ringtone pierced throughout the mansion, causing conversations among the party guests to come to a complete halt. The silence was deafening. The regal butler answered the phone and was immediately met with a stern command, “Put me on speaker phone…” The caller’s voice was deep, distinct, dark, and undeniably dangerous…

The butler immediately and unemotionally obeyed. The ominous caller continued, “Good evening, my dear guests. Welcome to my humble abode. I trust that the food and the entertainment has exceeded your expectations. Now, it’s my turn for a bit of fun. At this present moment, you all are trapped in this room. Indeed, your feet are cemented into place around this table. You’re stuck. The only way to free yourself from this dire situation is to set your feet on fire…” As the sadistic caller continued his dark diatribe, the butler began to pass out matches and candles to all the guests. Suddenly, one of the party guests burst into flames and began running around the dining room, engulfed in horrific flames as her husband had tried to free her by setting her feet on fire. Then, another one burst into flames…Then another…Then another…Then another! Derek panicked. He tried to unhinge himself by vigorously pulling at his legs. He begged Patricia to do the same, but she was screeching in utter horror at the devilish scene unfolding in front of her. The mansion was now totally on fire, the screams of the unstuck were horrifying, and the fear of those still stuck at the table was palpable…And the mysterious caller on the other end of the line? He – he was laughing with utter delight as if this were the only scene that could satisfy his overstimulated, over-experienced, and overly tainted soul.

Derek jolted awoke, sweating, shaking, crying, and totally terrified. He bolted out the bedroom door, headed down the stairs, towards the living room. Dear God, help me. I just need these voices in my head to stop. Dear God, silence the noise! “Yes…Silence,” Derek said softly, remembering a dark lullaby from his days in Iraq. He reached for his phone and went to his YouTube app…”There it is. ‘Sound of Silence.’” God, get me to sleep. I have so much to do tomorrow...With that prayer firmly stuck in his brain, Derek listened to the following words that simultaneously haunted him and helped him with a schizophrenic joy, the hot tears pooling at the end of his trembling chin…https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u9Dg-g7t2l4

Part 6: Secrets…

His heart was beating so fast…Driving to Haddie’s house, Derek’s mind raced in a million different directions. What did she find? Is it bad? Is it really, really bad? How bad could it be? Will it cause further hurt and damage to an already dying marriage? His thoughts continued to jumble in all sorts of dark directions…And his heart! It was beating so fast – too fast. What’s wrong with me? I feel like my heart is about to jump out of my chest…And my blood…It’s rushing too fast. He pulled over, slamming on the brakes of his Chevy, causing the rocks on the shoulder of the highway to go flying.

Just calm down. Breathe. Breathe. Just breathe. Derek did his best to analyze the situation. And then, the shaking began. Son of a biscuit. What’s wrong with me! Get it together. “Ok, God. I need you to help me. Slow my heart. Slow my blood. Stop my shaking. I hate feeling this way! I don’t want to feel my heart and my blood. I need this shaking to stop. Now!” Just then he could hear the hyperventilation of his breathing. Hffff – Hffff – Hffff – Hffff – Hffff. His breathing seemed to match the fast-paced throbbing of his heart and blood. He tried to regrip the steering wheel, but his shaking was so bad. “God, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Help me. Just help me.”

Derek put his vehicle into park and carefully felt for the lever to his chair. Pulling the lever up, he felt the jagged downward movement of his seat. He closed his eyes, using his trembling hand to caress his chest. I just need to calm down. Goodness! Why do I care so much about this situation with Haddie? Derek paused his thinking for a moment, and then continued on, Because you’ve got freaking co-dependent issues, Derek correctly counseled himself. Just breathe. Derek took slow, careful breaths. In. Out. In. Out. He seemed to feel better. He couldn’t feel the rushing of his blood anymore. Derek grew excited and opened his eyes to examine his hands. Shaking was gone. Ok, finally, let’s get on to Haddie’s house, Derek concluded.

Pulling into Haddie’s driveway, Derek peeked at himself in the rearview mirror of his Chevy. Cool, calm, and collected, Derek thought as he snickered to himself. Haddie met him at the door. “Thanks for coming, Pastor. I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.” “No trouble at all,” Derek said mindlessly with immediate regret for the flat-out lie. “You said you found something?” “Yes,” Haddie said grimly. “Come with me. It’s upstairs.”

Making his way through the Nobel’s home, he immediately felt surges of sadness and anger. How could Jared just up and leave his wife and three girls! And they’re so young. Just 6, 8, and 11. Derek’s mind immediately rushed to thoughts of his own four kids. They were young too. Could I ever do something like this to them? Derek’s thoughts were quickly jolted as he followed Haddie up the stairs. Where is she taking me? Getting to Haddie’s bedroom, Derek immediately felt uncomfortable. “I’ll just stay out here,” Derek politely, but firmly stated. Haddie didn’t respond. She immediately opened the bedroom door and went to her nightstand and picked up a small picture. Derek couldn’t quite make it out from the doorway, but the picture looked like a black and white photo.

Haddie came to the doorway but stopped just shy of entering the hallway with Derek. With hot tears in her eyes, she laboriously mouthed the words, “And. Here. Is. The. Real reason that he’s gone…” She dropped the photo with her knees simultaneously crumbling to the ground. At this point, Haddie was sobbing. Then the wailing began. Derek’s mind immediately retreated back to his military days. The last time he witnessed a young wife sobbing and wailing with uncontrollable grief was at the funeral of a fellow soldier who had been killed in combat. Derek was all too familiar with the shrill sounds of death as a young widow’s cry will splatter your heart with unrecognizable and unforgettable emotions. But who died? Whose no longer alive?

Derek began to shake again. With trembling hands, he picked up the photo. Indeed, it was a black and white picture- an ultrasound picture. A tiny baby with outstretched arms was clearly visible. Derek turned the photo over and read these words of delight – words of doom: “Here’s our little peanut. She’s beautiful! Can’t wait to begin our lives together as a family of 3. XOXO, Abby”. So, this was his big secret. Derek’s eyes welled up with tears and the snot simultaneously loosened from his nostrils. He was about to cry an ugly cry. Good thing no one’s around to judge me, Derek thought with angry satisfaction as Haddie continued to wail in the fetal position on the floor. God, when will this nightmare end? How do I help her when I feel like my own heart is just so jaded…

Part 5: Holy…

Slumping into his office chair, Derek leaned back with heavy exhaustion. Cracking open the thick can of his cold energy drink, he took a big gulp. Refreshing, he thought. Just then, Derek heard the rumbling of rocks in the church parking lot. Great, he sarcastically thought to himself. Who could it be this time? With begrudging effort, he sat up straight in his chair and tried to look dignified by acting busy with the paperwork on his desk.

“Morning, Rev!” said Lawrence Brown as he bounced into Derek’s office. “Question for you. I’m looking for a holy man. Do you know where I can find one?” Derek’s mind raced. What in the world is he talking about? A holy man? Lawrence, sensing that his joke was going over his pastor’s head, broke the awkward silence with the completion of the joke, “Because you’re not him, and neither am I!” Lawrence grinned as if he had won the Joke of the Year Award. But Derek could barely keep his composure from looking deeply disturbed. I’m looking for a holy man. Do you know where I can find one? Because you’re not him, and neither am I! The words stung deep. No truer words have been spoken, Derek thought with sad irritation, while eking out a small and nervous, “Ha-ha.”

“How can I help you?” Derek asked the highly extroverted construction worker who was a long-time member of the church. “Oh, I was just out and about and thought you would like some company.” Lawrence beamed as if he was Derek’s gift of the day. “Well, thanks for stopping by, but I have a counseling appointment with someone in about half an hour.” “No problem. I’ll just keep you company till then.” Perfect, Derek thought to himself.

Derek’s 9:30 came like a superhero to the rescue. “Thanks for stopping by,” Derek eagerly said to Lawrence, ushing him out the door with a hearty handshake. “See you soon!” Lawrence responded, oblivious that Derek was feeling drained from the fast-paced, random conversation about everything and nothing at the same time. See you soon indeed…

“Hi, Hannah. How are you?” Derek asked with a renewed sense of pastoral decorum. “I’m ok,” Hannah answered timidly. Derek took a moment to gauge her response. She seems distant – guarded. Derek continued, “How was last week? Any improvement in your marriage?” “I don’t know. Grant just seems so distant – guarded.” Ironic, Derek thought to himself. “Well, how did your homework assignment go? Did you read the verses assigned?” “Yes,” Hannah stoically responded. Just then, Derek’s phone began to ring. It was Haddie Nobles. “I better take this,” Derek said to Hannah, excusing himself from his office to take the phone call in the cold hallway.

“Hey, Haddie. Is everything ok?” “Pastor, can you come over? ” “Sure,” Derek quickly responded, sensing something urgent. Haddie continued, “Thank you. I just found something, and I think you should see it.” “I’ll be right over,” Derek responded. Making his apologies to Hannah, he quickly prayed with her and reset her counseling appointment for tomorrow. “Same time?” asked Derek. “Sure,” said Hannah. “I’ll see you then,” said Derek. Hannah made her way to the door and then hesitated for a moment. “Pastor, your sermon from last Sunday about the holiness of God?” “Yeah,” Derek nervously responded. “Well, why is everything in my life so unholy? I try my best to love and serve the Lord, but I just feel so dirty – so used – so broken.” Derek looked at her, at a loss to respond and feeling slightly exposed. Indeed, before he could say anything, Hannah was out the door with thick tears welling up in her eyes. Derek gathered his belongings in preparation to get to the Nobel’s house. He silently prayed, God, I’m looking for a holy man. Do you know where I can find one? Because I’m certainly not it…

Part 4: Smoke…

He barely got any sleep. Too much tossing and turning had warded off the comfort of rest. He was up by 7am and truly felt guilty for not getting up earlier. Derek headed downstairs to grab a cup of coffee. He then made his way to a small wooden table tucked in the corner of his kitchen. He randomly opened his Bible to read a few verses. His eyes stumbled upon Psalm 9, Verse 10, “And those who know your name put their trust in you, for you, O LORD, have not forsaken those who seek you.” Hmmm, Derek thought to himself. “Not forsaken”, that’s a comforting thought. He took a few more sips of his black coffee and scanned the rest of Psalm 9, looking for relief. He found none. Better head to the office, he morbidly thought to himself.

Heading to the church office, Derek realized that the coffee he had consumed had done nothing for him. He was still exhausted – sleepy – restless. He decided to swing into the local gas station on the way to work. Stepping out of his Chevy Blazer, he heard the creak of his car door and smiled at the old faithfulness of his vehicle. 120,000 miles and still running strong, he thought to himself with pride and amusement. He stepped into the gas station and was met with a gruff grunt from the counter, “Good morning”, said the unenthused cashier. “Good morning”, Derek humbly responded.

Stepping in front of the energy drink aisle, he surveyed all the options. Too many options danced in front of him. Why are there so many options? And why are these things so expensive? Derek thought with irritation. He grabbed his favorite drink and headed to the counter, the cold drink sweating in his hands. There was a line – a long line for 8:30 in the morning. He was fifth in line. “Hurry up and wait”, he whispered to himself, chuckling at just how apropos that old military saying was to the whole of his life. Hurry up and wait indeed, he thought to himself.

While in line, his eyes glanced at the tobacco options behind the register. So many options: Marlboros, Camels, and Lucky Strikes donned the neatly packaged shelves. The line moved forward. He was now third in line. The doorbell dinged, indicating a new customer had entered the gas station. A farmer waddled in, looking beat with sleepless eyes. I feel his pain, Derek thought to himself. “Scuse me,” the farmer said respectfully, but tiredly as he moved past Derek. “No problem,” Derek responded, his eyes quickly dancing back to the cigarette options behind the counter.

As he got to the front of the line, Derek’s eyes took another peak at the tobacco options, this time looking at the options at the bottom of the cigarette rack. A small black box stole his attention, “Djarum Black”. He smiled as his mind whisked back to his days in the Army when he was deployed to Iraq. Those sleek black clove cigars had provided so much comfort on the tough days of his combat deployment. His mind revisited campfires where he and his brothers-in-arms would sit around the fire after a long day of work…eating, drinking, and smoking. He inhaled deeply, remembering the thick, silky, spicy punch of this clove cigarette. Ahhh, relief, Derek reminisced. “Will that be all?” the gas station attendant rudely asked, breaking Derek’s train of thought. “Yes,” Derek stiffly responded, looking around him as if he had been caught doing something horribly wrong.

Driving away from the gas station, Derek couldn’t help feeling that he just needed something for relief – anything to distract his mind and heart from the constant turmoil he was feeling. Pastoral ministry in many ways had left him feeling defeated. Indeed, he seemed to have more sad stories than good stories to tell in his almost 7 years of ministry. I hate feeling this way. Why can’t I just be happy and carefree? Then, like a faithful butler at a creepy mansion, the Darkness responded with its gnarly, dogmatic voice, Ha! Would you even be able to recognize yourself if you were happy? It’s been years since you were truly carefree. Take my advice, turn the vehicle around. Buy those Djarums. You just need a healthy smoke…

Part 3: Free…

Derek drove by tall fields of corn. Many farmers were still hard at work in their fields, harvesting their corn. Their bright tractor lights lit up the night sky. “America’s heartland,” Derek whispered out loud. Your graveyard, the Darkness hissed back. Perhaps, Derek thought back. No, the Darkness seemed to scream back, you’ll die out here, in the middle of nowhere, unknown, unloved, and totally deserted by the God who sent you here. Derek turned on the radio. Perhaps something encouraging and uplifting on the radio would set his mind straight before his visit with Haddie and Jared. But try as he may (this night or any other night), trying to drown out the voice of Darkness, or Depression, or whatever it was, was like trying to drown a hammerhead shark in the ocean – it just never worked.  

Pulling into the Nobels’ wide driveway, he glanced at the clock in his Blazer. Bright neon green numbers flashed the time – 11:38 PM. Wow, this is way too late for a visit, Derek thought to himself. Grabbing his Bible and phone, he exited his vehicle, took a deep breathe, whispered a quick prayer for help, and stepped toward the front door.  

Haddie must have seen him pull into the driveway because she immediately opened the front door as Derek neared it. “Good evening,” Derek said with subdued enthusiasm. “Thanks for coming,” Haddie responded without much emotion. They seemed to greet each other with the perfect degree of sobriety, which only intensified Derek’s anxiety over the dilemma that awaited him in their living room.

As he entered their house, he took of his shoes and placed them on the mat by the front door. He then briskly followed Haddie towards their living room. As they marched towards the living room, he felt surges of adrenaline as his body readied itself for what was about to take place.

Pictures of the Nobels lined the hallway that lead to the living room. Each picture told a story. Stories of hope, happiness, growth, and gratitude. So many stories…So many memories, Derek mused to himself.  

Entering the living room, Haddie and Derek found their seats. Haddie sat with Jared on the couch (Jared on one end and Haddie at the other end) while Derek made himself comfortable on the La-Z-Boy chair just cattycorner to the couch. For a moment, everyone sat in silence. Derek had always struggled with silence. As a pastor, he felt that he should always be saying something to cut through the awkward silences – something encouraging, or insightful, or just plain helpful.

Derek, seeking to relieve the tension in the room, broke the silence with a general question, “So, how are you guys?” Haddie looked at Jared, hoping he would respond first. Not seeing any desire within Jared to speak up, Haddie answered, “Not good,” Haddie said with gloomy frustration, “Jared wants to leave.” “Leave?” Derek asked, “What do you mean?” “I’ve just had enough,” Jared quickly interjected with his thick, originally-from-Alabama accent, “This marriage simply isn’t working. I’m unhappy. She’s unhappy. We’re just better off apart.” Derek sat up in his chair, trying to think of an appropriate, pastoral response.

Before Derek could respond, Jared continued, “It’s really the best solution for everybody, especially the kids. I mean, the kids deserve for us to be happy. With the way things are right now, Haddie and I are always fighting and arguing. This isn’t good for the kids at all. Wouldn’t you agree, Pastor?” Jared looked at Derek for some sort of reassurance. Derek responded, “I would agree that you and Haddie constantly fighting isn’t a good environment for the kids, but do you really think leaving is the answer? I mean, what about counseling?” “No, it’s too late for that. We’ve tried that before and it simply doesn’t work. I mean, it’ll work for a little while and then we go back to our old ways of doing things.” Derek looked defeated. He really didn’t want another imploded marriage on his resume. Indeed, Derek felt surges of grief and anger overtake his body. Another marriage down the pits, he gloomily thought to himself.

Suddenly, Haddie’s anger seemed to bubble up and excrete towards Jared, “Why don’t you tell Pastor the real reason you are leaving,” Haddie glared at Jared with intense rage, “Tell him where you plan to stay.” Jared tried to diffuse Haddie’s anger with a factual response, “Tonight, I’ll stay at a hotel; and then I plan to move in with Abby.” “Abby?” Derek questioned, “Who’s Abby?” “His girlfriend,” Haddie responded with disturbed irritation.

Haddie and Jared then began to attack each other. “Why do you have to act that way?” Derek said angrily, “Why do you act like this is all my fault? Our marriage has been over for a long time and you know it.” Haddie ignored Jared’s questions and asked one of her own, “How long have you been with her?” “Why do you need to know?” Jared shot back. Derek interjected, trying to diffuse the situation, “Did you two meet at work?” “Yes,” Jared responded, “And all I know is that when I’m with her, I feel happy. I feel…I feel free,” he finally concluded with an exhausted look on his face.  

Derek’s heart sank. Unfortunately, he had dealt with this same type of scenario a half-dozen times in his small rural congregation. Yes, he had seen it before, namely, a man becomes bored with his marriage and fosters that discontent for months or years. Discontent then gives birth to bitterness and then in swoops the other woman, ready to provide the escape and freedom that man is longing for. Same story, different day, Derek thought to himself.

“How should we tell the kids?” Haddie asked matter-of-factly. “Hold up,” Derek interjected, “So that’s it? You’re both done? Why not stay tonight and we’ll evaluate everything in the morning. Let’s not make any rash decisions,” Derek spoke intently to Jared, trying his best to convince him to stay. “No, it’s over, Pastor. We’re done. Thanks for trying to help, but this marriage has long been over.” Jared spoke with finality and authority and then got up from the couch. “Are you leaving now?” Haddie asked. “Yes. We’re done and I don’t feel like talking about it anymore.” “Please stay,” Haddie begged. “I can be different. We both can be different. Think about our girls!” Haddie was almost frantic with emotion. “I am thinking of the girls,” Jared responded coldly, “They’ll be much better off with the two of us apart.”

With that, Jared picked up a small black duffel bag, already packed with some clothes and hygiene items, and walked out the front door. The roar of his Ford F-150 could be heard from the living room as Derek and Haddie sat in silence and stared at the floor. Cold, defeat enveloped the both of them. Why did they even call me? Derek thought to himself. Derek had begun to loathe his front row seat to the damage and destruction that sin and selfishness seemed to wreak upon his small congregation and community.  

“How am I going to tell the girls?” Haddie seemed irritated, shocked, and disappointed. “They’ll be devastated,” she continued. “Do you want me to tell them for you?” Derek offered with sympathy. “I don’t know,” Haddie said as she began to tear up, “I just feel so…so…” Haddie disrupted her own thinking by exploding with emotion, “I mean, how could he? Am I really that horrible to live with? How could he leave his girls? And for what? Abby?!” The questions seemed to pour out of Haddie like hot lava from a volcano. “I just feel so…so abandoned.” There’s that word again, Derek thought. “God will see you and your girls through,” Derek said with believability and pastoral tactfulness. “God?” Haddie questioned, “I can’t believe that God would even allow something like this to take place.” Derek secretly emphasized with her. “God will get you through,” Derek repeated, hoping that the repetition would build confidence into Haddie’s faith and thinking.

“Is there anything that I can do for you?” Derek asked, trying to close down the conversation. “No, thanks for stopping by,” Haddie responded grimly. “Ok. Well, let me pray with you,” Derek offered. “Sure,” said Haddie. Derek paused for a moment, and then prayed, “Father God, we come to you right now with hearts that are heavy. God, I ask that you would walk beside Haddie and give to her grace and strength to meet this new trial. I also ask that you would give to her great wisdom and discernment as she encounters many decisions in the days and weeks ahead. And God, most of all, I ask that you shield Haddie’s precious girls from the damage that Jared’s leaving will do.” Derek paused in his prayer and tried to tame down his mounting emotions. “And God,” Derek continued, “Just get us all through this trial. Remind us that you are near and that you care; and if it be your will, bring Jared back home. In Jesus’ name…Amen.”

For a few minutes afterwards, Derek and Haddie spoke about general topics. Their conversation was mostly somber, but pleasant. Derek offered basic, biblical advice and loving, pastoral counsel. Derek then got up from his chair and walked to the front door. “Thanks again for coming,” Haddie said as he walked out the door. “Stay strong,” Derek responded.

Just before he got into his Blazer, Derek looked at his watch. 12:58 his watch read. Almost 1:00 in the morning, Derek mussed to himself. The cold night air made him shudder and shake again. He looked up into the cold, but clear midwestern night sky. So many stars danced in the night air, taunting their joyful distance from the pain and sorrow of this earth. This is ministry, he thought to himself in depressed anger.

Indeed, as Derek drove away from the Nobels’ house, so many emotions pulsed through his body; so many thoughts pounded in his brain…Maybe I’m just doing something wrong. Why is all of this happening to me? This is like the third crisis I’ve dealt with in the last several weeks. He felt exhausted. “We’ve both been abandoned,” Derek said out loud with morbid certainty. I’m quite sure of it, Derek thought to himself, Haddie and I have both been abandoned. He then let out a tired huff and a nervous chuckle. “So, so, Jared is free, and we’ve been abandoned?!” Derek loudly whispered the words with angry intensity, smashing his hand against the steering wheel…

Part 2: Abandoned…

Patricia rolled over, unable to sleep. “Who was it?” she asked with concern. “Haddie Nobels. She says it’s an emergency. I really need to get over there.” “What is it this time?” Patricia groaned. Derek’s mind continued to race as to what problem awaited him at the Nobels’ house. Did they have another fight? Did Jared get violent with Haddie this time? Will they finally pull the plug on their rocky, volatile marriage? Derek’s mind sputtered different thoughts from bad to worse. “Your blue jeans are in the dryer,” Patricia said, disturbing Derek’s thoughts of doom and gloom. “Thanks,” he said, irritated at being jilted from his thoughts, but thankful for clean blue jeans.

Derek hurriedly put on his clothes and then looked at himself in the mirror. A red polo, blue jeans, and sneakers stared back at him from the mirror. I wonder if red is too aggressive of a color, he thought to himself. He quickly dismissed the thought as overly-picky and hyper-analytical. Indeed, Derek had a problem of overthinking just about everything, and this little habit, though at one time he thought it was a gift, drove his wife bonkers. I’m sure the color red will be just fine, he imagined his wife saying.

Derek then took a hard stare at his face in the mirror. He felt old, but his face looked young…Perhaps too young. He often got raised eyebrows and small smirks whenever he would introduce himself as “Pastor Stevens” during hospital visits. He could tell that most people doubted his abilities because of the appearance of youth that donned his face, and some were so bold to actually voice their concerns over his appeared age. But at age 35, he was glad to look younger, not older, because internally he felt old…Perhaps too old.

Derek took a quick look at his watch, 11:20 PM. He turned from the mirror that hung on his bedroom door and approached his wife who was half-asleep in bed. He took a good long look at her. How grateful he was for Patricia. She was such a beautiful woman with golden brownish hair, an athletic face, and full lips. Derek bent down to kiss his wife, who returned the kiss with a small peck. He smiled. He loved the way his wife’s lips felt on his…So soft, almost feathery, and always comforting. “I love you,” he whispered. “Love you too,” she sleepily replied, trying to give him a smile.

Derek tiptoed out the bedroom door and continued to step lightly down the hallway, past his children’s bedrooms, and then down the stairs. The stairs creaked and groaned as he placed his weight on each step. Indeed, he loved the way his old house creaked, revealing not just old age, but distant memories and subtle charm. I sure hope this creaking doesn’t wake the kids, he thought to himself. However, before he could fret any longer over the thought, he was already down the stairs and making his way out the front door.

The old wooden door closed hard behind Derek as he struggled to pull it shut. Out on his front porch, he stopped to take a look around. Between the bright streetlight and the full moon, he could clearly see everything. Looking out over his nicely manicured lawn, he noticed that his shaking had stopped. “Finally,” he muttered out loud, somewhat relieved that the shaking was over, and somewhat irritated that he even had to deal with this issue in the first place.

He then walked towards his vehicle that was parked in the street. His vehicle was a sturdy 2003 Chevy Blazer, maroon in color. Maroon was his favorite color. It reminded him of his time in the military as an Army paratrooper, wearing a maroon beret. It also reminded him of courage. Yes, to Derek, maroon was the color of courage. And according to Derek, “Courage, next to godliness, is perhaps the most important virtue a pastor can possess.”

As he neared the Blazer door, he was struck with the coldness of the fall night air. Fall was Derek’s favorite season. All the coloring in the trees made his imagination percolate with thoughts that God, the Grand Designer, would take out his paintbrush every year and color the trees bright shades of yellow, red, and orange. However, the jagged coldness of this particular night, made him shudder at the thought that winter was coming; and winter, unlike fall, was not his favorite season at all.

Entering his vehicle, he quickly placed his “pastoral toolkit” into the passenger seat. His must-have-tools for daily efficient ministry, included: 1) His black, leather-bound Bible, tattered from years of use, 2) A brown, leather-bound planner (a paper brain never forgets, he thought to himself in amusement), and 3) His cell phone, the battery charged at just 89%. Derek truly loved his Bible and his planner. Totally necessary for pastoral ministry, he confidently thought to himself. He picked up his phone and then set it back down. “A necessary evil,” he jokingly said out loud.

He then put his Blazer into drive and set out toward Haddie Nobles’ house. He had been there enough times to know that it would take approximately 15 minutes to arrive at her country farmhouse. Driving down the road, he turned the radio on. A few seconds later, he decided to turn it off. I’d better use the drive time to think and pray, he thought to himself. Derek would often use his drive time to think and pray, occasionally indulging in the radio as a way to distract his heart and mind from the stresses and tensions of ministry.

“God help me help them,” Derek muttered out loud with some degree of fervency. “God, I just can’t do this without you. I’m too weak and too dumb to help Haddie and Jared on my own. Please help me help them.” Derek listened to the gentle humming of his motor as he made his way down Chestnut Street toward 5^th Street. He so wished for God to audibly speak back to him…to say something – anything, but Derek never heard the voice of God. In nearly seven years of pastoral ministry, he never heard God speak. Yes, surely, he had seen God work in his life, his family’s life, and his church’s life, but never had he experienced something as supernatural as hearing the voice of God.

And you never will, the Darkness seemed to hiss. Your God has abandoned you, the Darkness kept taunting. Such invasive, depressive, and demonic thoughts were a constant theme in Derek’s life and ministry. Indeed, he never seemed to hear the voice of God, but the voice of Evil seemed to register into his heart and mind on a frequent basis. “Abandoned?” Derek questioned the Darkness. At times, it certainly felt like God had abandoned him in the middle of nowhere…

Part 1: Shaking…

He laid there in his bed, shaking uncontrollably. Like a tired, cold dog just fresh from his bath, Derek Stevens could not stop shaking. His wife, Patricia, held him and gently caressed his back. Derek felt momentary relief and true gratefulness for his wife’s compassion, but the shaking would not stop.

“You need to get some sleep,” his wife said in a gentle whisper. “I – just – can’t,” Derek said in a choppy and rhythmic pattern that mirrored the shaking of his body. “What are you going to do?” his wife asked. “I need to use the bathroom,” he muttered with frustrated overtones.

As Derek got out of bed, he stiffened his body, trying to stop the shivering and shaking. It didn’t work. He staggered to the bathroom that was just down the hallway from his bedroom. As he arrived at the bathroom sink, he began to dry heave. His belly seemed to convulsive violently, trying to erupt something from out of his mouth. Combined with his shaking, Derek felt woozy, weak, and (worst of all) humiliated. He made his way over to the toilet and hugged the porcelain pot, hoping to vomit. “Dear God, help me, help me, help me…”Derek pathetically prayed through spits and drools.

Indeed, Derek was overworked, overstressed, and overburdened. In a word, he was overwhelmed; and all of this stress was fighting back by means of destroying his physical health. There had been warning signs for many years, telling Derek to slow his pace and catch his breath. Warning signs like disrupted sleep patterns, difficulty concentrating at work, and increased anxiety, but he had ignored such signs, determined to keep on going. Don’t ever give up, he consistently thought to himself.

After a few more minutes in the bathroom, dry heaving and shaking, he heard his phone ring. A shot of terror ran through his body and his blood began to curl. Derek had begun to hate the sound of his phone. Someone was always calling with some concern, or emergency, or heartbreaking news. Rarely did anyone call with good news; and at 11:00 at night, this was most definitely not good news.

Just as Derek’s ringtone went off for the fourth time, he picked it up. Caller ID revealed the caller – Haddie Nobels. He inhaled deeply and blew out the air through flared nostrils, bracing himself for what awaited him on the other line. “Hello,” Derek answered with caution. “Yes, Pastor, I’m sorry for calling so late, but it’s kind of an emergency. Would you be able to come by the house for a few minutes? Jared and I really need to speak with you.” Derek analyzed the crackling in her voice, trying to decipher what dilemma he was about to walk into, but his mind raced in a dozen different directions. This could be anything, he thought to himself. “I’ll be right over,” he said reluctantly…