“For a thousand years in your sight are like yesterday when it is past and like a watch in the night.”
Psalm 90:4
Dear Sisters and Brothers,
I entered college with the intention of joining the Navy. In my sophomore year, I went on a summer cruise and was introduced to flying helicopters and simply fell in love with them knowing that is what I would do once I was commissioned. The following fall, I awoke the morning I was to take my first solo flight only to discover I had hemorrhaging in my eyes. Soon I would have my discharge papers. So much for my plans. Apparently, God had other plans for me. The spring before graduating, I had an appointment with the bishop of South Carolina to get permission to enter seminary. I was told at noon I needed to call my Rector. Upon doing so, he informed me that they had discovered that it was now a requirement of the Episcopal Church that there had to
be at least a two-year span between completing an undergraduate degree and entering seminary, so the meeting was canceled. The church felt that people had to have at least some “real-world experience”. Two years later, the bishop had placed a moratorium on sending people to seminary, so I came to Lexington and was immediately given permission to start with the fall semester. Not what I had planned, but as I would come to understand, I was not in charge. After being ordained a priest, the bishop wanted us to move to Corbin where I was serving as Vicar (a priest of a mission congregation serving in place of the bishop who technically was the rector). Although we had only purchased our house two years before, we put it up for sale. After several
months, and no offers, we took it off the market. Apparently, even the bishop’s plans were not the same as God’s. Two years later, the new bishop wanted us to move to Corbin, so we again put it back on the market. Two days later, our asking price was accepted. We were off to Corbin and the only time in my forty years of ministry I served a single congregation. It was a wonderful place to be, and I learned a lot, but God had other plans. I spent the next thirty-one years of my ministry serving at least two congregations at the same time. Oh, did I mention I went to seminary with the intention of returning to South Carolina and being the chaplain at my alma mater. As we last week remembered the seventy-ninth anniversary of the D-Day invasion of Normandy, the quote attributed to Dwight D. Eisenhower was appropriate: “Plans are worthless, but planning is essential.” It is not easy to want something only to find out that God’s desires for us may not be our own. As I reflect on my years of ministry and before, I frequently consider the things that could have been but did not, and realize that I am lucky I didn’t receive many of the things I wanted. Our lessons last Sunday all spoke of faith, of Abram stepping out into the unknown because he trusted God. Of Matthew who was willing to leave his tax booth when Jesus said, “Follow me.” We heard of the woman who had a hemorrhage for twelve years who believed if she could only touch the hem of Jesus’ cloak, she would be healed, and the synagogue leader, who despite possibly being at odds with the Jewish leadership, was willing to chance it because he had faith
that Jesus could heal his daughter. Even when we feel God does not hear our prayers and does not fulfill our petitions, we need to remember that God’s time is not the same as our time, and as Jesus would tell us in Luke’s gospel, “Is there anyone among you who, if your child asked for a fish, would give a snake instead of a fish? Or if the child asked for an egg, would give a scorpion? If you, then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” Growing up, many of us remember Kermit teaching us “It’s not easy being green.” As adults, we learn that sometimes, “it’s not easy having faith that God will provide us what we need when we need it, that there is a difference between needs and wants, and that our time is not always God’s.
Peace,
Bryant+
