God Still Loves The Fallen Pastor
May 9, 2012 2 Comments
You ever have a conversation/prayer with God that you just know was real?
I have. But only a few times. My friend, Joy Wilson, writes about this type of prayer in her book, “Uncensored Prayer: The Spiritual Practice of Wrestling with God.” Take time to check out her blog as well. I think if you give her a try you’ll love her stuff.
I was apparently engaged in this process without even knowing it. My mother used to do it as well. She kept detailed prayer journals. She wrote down conversations she had with God. The first time I took a peek at one of them, I was sure she was crazy. But after I kept going back to them secretly, I knew she was conversing with God. I didn’t know how. I knew it wasn’t divine revelation, but I knew she was wrestling and hearing from God in her mediation/quiet time.
About a year after my fall from ministry and my marriage to Allison, I had a conversation with God that I will never forget. It wasn’t in audible tones. It was on a heart level. It was while I was on my knees with my Bible in front of me. I had few friends to speak of and little support. All I wanted was love. To be reminded of God’s love. To remember that He was, in fact, there. I’ll do my best to quote it for you. It was at a heart level, and it was very real.
Ray: “Lord, I’ve hurt so many. I’ve gone through so much because of what I’ve done. I have some opportunities to help people, but I feel inadequate. I just need to hear from you.”
Silence.
Ray: “I’m an inadequate husband, father, Christian, worker, human being, and I fell as a minister. I am a horrible sinner. I’ve asked for forgiveness so many times from you and others. People tell me to repent. I’m married now. I think I’ve turned away from a lifestyle of that one sin of adultery. What do you want??”
Silence.
R: “Please let me know you’re listening. So many times I’ve just wanted to give up. I can’t stand going to church. I can’t stand going anywhere. I’ve drug so many people down. I’ve disappointed so many.”
Silence.
R: “Maybe I should just shut up.”
Silence.
More silence. I’m about to give up again.
God: “Why do you still hang you head down when you go out in public? Why do you stare at the floor when you’re at the grocery or in town?”
Just like God to change the subject.
R: “I’m ashamed. I don’t want to see the faces of those people I’ve disappointed.”
G: “You should fear me more. I’m the one you sinned against.”
R: I’m beating my hands on the bed I’m leaning against at this point. “I know, Lord. It eats me alive. People tell me I haven’t repented, that I’m not apologetic. That I’m not forgiven.”
G: “You are forgiven. You sinned, violated my law, but now, you are clean by my Son. When you bring it up, it’s you bringing it up, not me. A huge mess was made, yes. But it’s over. I will still use you, but you must seek humility. I no longer see you as a fallen pastor. I see you as my beloved child.”
I paused and wept. God had a better view of me than I did. He had a better view of me than most people and pastors in my community. Was this me talking to myself? It didn’t feel like it. Was I going crazy? Possibly. But it didn’t feel like it.
R: “Are you still there? Can I please ask something even though I don’t deserve it? I just want my kids to be okay.”
G: “Do they seem alright?”
R: “Yes. By your grace.”
G: “Rejoice. Remember what you learned a long time ago. They are only in your hands for a short time, but in my hands forever.”
R: I couldn’t remember where I had heard that. “What am I supposed to do now?”
G: “Love like you couldn’t love before this. Remember what it was like to feel grace at the lowest point. Share it. Never forget it. Give it to others.”
Like that, it was over. It was like I was in some sort of weird, dizzying trance the entire time. Maybe I had too much medication in my
system. Maybe I was delirious from stress. Because, I’ll be honest. I’m the last person to believe stuff like this when it happens to others. I had a lady come up to me and tell me that God spoke to her like this regularly once. I shrugged my shoulders and said, “Maybe he does. Good for you!”
I slept for a long time after that. Immediately after I woke, I remembered, “Remember what you learned a long time ago. They are only in your hands for a short time, but in my hands forever.” That was something my mother used to say to me. She’d tell me that she’d worry about me and fret, but that she knew that God took better care of me than she ever could.
God cares for the fallen pastor. He loves the fallen pastor. Heck, after the fallen pastor repents, he’s not even a fallen pastor anymore. He’s just a renewed Christian with a new mission. God cares about all of His flock. When the one goes astray, He seeks Him out, leaving the 99 behind.
Don’t ever doubt God’s love when you are sinning (feel free to know that He will discipline to get you back, though). He will put you back on the path. Even when you scramble it up really badly, He will restore you. He loves you that much.
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Ray Carroll is author of Fallen Pastor: Finding Restoration in a Broken World. He is also a contributing author at Provoketive Magazine.




















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