WHY DID HE FEEL SO DRIVEN TO PRAY OF LATE? THAT WASN'T LIKE HIM . . . .
Bob woke up early that Sunday morning and ate his oatmeal without saying much. He was troubled about something. Well, really, about many things.
So much seemed to be happening to them right now, he and Betty; and it was happening so fast. Betty was up a few minutes later and looking for coffee in their small kitchen. She yawned as she stooped to kiss him good morning. “You’re up early – even for a Sunday,” she said. “Sit down, Dear,” he said. “I’ll get your coffee.” He got up quickly and fixed her coffee just the way he had learned years before: a level spoon of creamer and a half spoon of sugar.
“You’re sure this won’t hurt the baby? Caffeine and such?”
She shrugged. “This is half-regular coffee. I got it at the store the other day. I hope you don’t mind. And just one cup of this a day won’t hurt anything.
“Right,” he gulped. He made a quick mental note to grab another large cup of coffee when he got to St. John’s that morning.
As for the baby, it was definitely a big surprise of course. They had been experimenting for a few months with the rhythm method, and it had mostly worked. But then, since he had started serving part time at St. Johns, he could reflect that they had had sex more often. Once a few weeks ago he had stopped to wonder why. Bob wondered specifically if looking at a pretty lady like Deborah had just made him start thinking about sex a lot more. The same thing had happened in the past; maybe it was happening again. Maybe that was it: nasty thoughts about other women led him to have sex with his wife?! Was that how at least one or two of their other children had been born??
Bob felt dirty at the thought. He frowned as he took a big sip of his half-caffeinated coffee,
and looked up at his wife.
Well, my goodness, he admitted to himself: on the other hand Betty had for some reason had started to look really good to him. Betty’s exercise regime had slimmed her down and toned her up. He was glad she was continuing the daily walks since she had gotten pregnant. So if anybody was to blame for the new surprise baby (their other three children being mostly grown up), it was either his fault for letting himself be enticed to thinking about sex so much more. Or maybe her fault for looking so good lately. Anyway, what had happened had happened, and there was no changing that now or going back. But then he didn't want to anyway. Bob was getting excited about being a daddy all over again.
He finished his cereal and got up quickly, glancing at the kitchen clock on the wall. “You’re leaving sooner than usual,” she commented, following him with her pretty blue eyes. He kissed her quickly and slipped on his suit jacket. “Want to get some praying in.”
“Praying? You!?!” she answered in mock surprise with a flash of her lovely, morning eyes. She did look good to him six weeks into her pregnancy. She had that glow now he remembered so well. Bob flushed with embarrassment. “Well, it couldn’t hurt. Especially since our insurance doesn’t cover pregnancy!”
“You sound like a desperate man!” she said, yawning. “Don’t you ever pray to God when there’s no emergency?”
“Sure, dear,” he answered. “I pray during worship,” he answered wryly. And he prayed when he was riding his bike . . . .
He’d decided to ride it today, leaving the car with Betty. He’d found years ago that he could actually get some serious talking to God done when he rode his bike – as long as he was traveling on safe roads. He deliberately took a different route this morning with less traffic so he could talk to His Lord. Bob needed time to digest the suggestion she had made the day before: to use a local Midwife service to deliver their baby. “Well, it’s cheaper than a hospital, and they have a great record for delivering babies – all of them have survived as healthy children, and they have delivered over 2000.” Well, that was convincing.
Still it was new concept to him. He’d patiently read the literature Betty showed him. But this was the kind of thing Bob needed to consult with God about.
A few minutes later, he pulled into the church parking lot, and walked his bike up to the office door along the side. As soon as he walked in the building other things crowded in on him: there was the matter of St. John’s and the St. John’s parsonage. Bob was starting to love this place and it’s people. He had gotten to know the neighborhood, and had thought about some real possibilities for ministry there with the people of his parish. And the parsonage: there was no doubt it would certainly save them money in rent if they could move into the parsonage. And Betty had within a few days of their second visit to it started to come around and see real possibilities.
He walked into his office and hung up his hat on the tall, old-fashioned wooden hat rack that had been provided. Grabbing up his pulpit Bible and some sermon notes, he went straight to his pulpit and laid the notes down; but the Bible he took with him to the communion rail at the front of the sanctuary. Sunday school would start in about half an hour. He had time, and though the kneeling pad in front of the rail was not that comfortable Bob somehow felt
the urge to kneel before His God. There was just something in his sense of worry, something about his burdens, and his struggles which made him want to humble himself before his God.
For one thing, he thought as he folded his hands, he had truly started to love these people and even love the work to which he had been called back so suddenly several months before. He had begun to realize what he had missed about the life of a pastor, and that was surprising to him. Bob had enjoyed writing and preaching sermons; teaching Sunday school, and leading worship. All of those things he had missed, but he had gotten over it fairly quickly. He’d found other things to fill his time enjoyably as well as his new line of work. And the people here -- at least in the short haul -- hadn't been a sack of bad pills. For the most part, they seemed genuinely grateful that he was willing to serve them in these months.
So Bob found he was missing a congregation or group of people to love. He wanted to talk to Jesus Christ about that. He found himself in those moments thanking God for his new friends and the new fellowship. Sure, there were the usual headaches of such a job, the very ones he had remembered and been glad to get away from. He could even foresee trouble on the horizon with certain parishioners or projects that the church needed to accomplish. But those things just did not bother him that much any more. It was as if the
two years away from pastoral ministry had given him a whole new perspective on this life and calling. Maybe it was still, at least in some small way, supposed to be his life and calling? Betty sure seemed open to it. Maybe that shouldn’t have been so surprising; she hadn’t wanted to leave that life in the first place.
But what made the whole thing make sense was that most of the people at St. John’s seemed to appreciate his presence. Maybe that was because they had gone several weeks without a pastor before he had gotten there, and they knew what it was like not to have a regular person who would take on the weekly responsibilities. On the other hand maybe their appreciation was some kind of confirmation of God’s calling – an indication that God still wanted him to continue doing this work.
That was a point of confusion for him however since he also enjoyed his other job and did it well. Maybe it was possible to continue both jobs? His mind was filled with struggles and questions, the sort of thing that often happened to him when he went to pray. Bob would usually catch himself after several seconds of this mental confusion, and remind
himself he had left prayer and the praise of God altogether and had turned in on self.
It was in the midst of just such a moment, that Bob felt the presence of someone else. Glancing to his left he saw Jim Bob Flakers kneeling. Jim Bob nodded and smiled. “Good morning, Bob. Looks like there’s plenty of room for prayer here. Mind if I join you?”
Bob smiled back. “I don’t mind at all. I wish more people would pray before Sunday school and worship. And right now, if you don’t mind, you can pray for me. I could use some prayer for me personally.”
Jim Bob smiled even bigger. “I been praying for you all along, Bob. But it’s a joy to pray for you right now.” He put a hand on Bob’s shoulder, and the two men focused on God together for many minutes.
LBC
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| Betty definitely had that pregnant glow . . . . |
Bob woke up early that Sunday morning and ate his oatmeal without saying much. He was troubled about something. Well, really, about many things.
So much seemed to be happening to them right now, he and Betty; and it was happening so fast. Betty was up a few minutes later and looking for coffee in their small kitchen. She yawned as she stooped to kiss him good morning. “You’re up early – even for a Sunday,” she said. “Sit down, Dear,” he said. “I’ll get your coffee.” He got up quickly and fixed her coffee just the way he had learned years before: a level spoon of creamer and a half spoon of sugar.
“You’re sure this won’t hurt the baby? Caffeine and such?”
She shrugged. “This is half-regular coffee. I got it at the store the other day. I hope you don’t mind. And just one cup of this a day won’t hurt anything.
“Right,” he gulped. He made a quick mental note to grab another large cup of coffee when he got to St. John’s that morning.
As for the baby, it was definitely a big surprise of course. They had been experimenting for a few months with the rhythm method, and it had mostly worked. But then, since he had started serving part time at St. Johns, he could reflect that they had had sex more often. Once a few weeks ago he had stopped to wonder why. Bob wondered specifically if looking at a pretty lady like Deborah had just made him start thinking about sex a lot more. The same thing had happened in the past; maybe it was happening again. Maybe that was it: nasty thoughts about other women led him to have sex with his wife?! Was that how at least one or two of their other children had been born??
Bob felt dirty at the thought. He frowned as he took a big sip of his half-caffeinated coffee,
 |
| He loved his breakfast of oats with fruits and nuts. |
Well, my goodness, he admitted to himself: on the other hand Betty had for some reason had started to look really good to him. Betty’s exercise regime had slimmed her down and toned her up. He was glad she was continuing the daily walks since she had gotten pregnant. So if anybody was to blame for the new surprise baby (their other three children being mostly grown up), it was either his fault for letting himself be enticed to thinking about sex so much more. Or maybe her fault for looking so good lately. Anyway, what had happened had happened, and there was no changing that now or going back. But then he didn't want to anyway. Bob was getting excited about being a daddy all over again.
He finished his cereal and got up quickly, glancing at the kitchen clock on the wall. “You’re leaving sooner than usual,” she commented, following him with her pretty blue eyes. He kissed her quickly and slipped on his suit jacket. “Want to get some praying in.”
“Praying? You!?!” she answered in mock surprise with a flash of her lovely, morning eyes. She did look good to him six weeks into her pregnancy. She had that glow now he remembered so well. Bob flushed with embarrassment. “Well, it couldn’t hurt. Especially since our insurance doesn’t cover pregnancy!”
“You sound like a desperate man!” she said, yawning. “Don’t you ever pray to God when there’s no emergency?”
“Sure, dear,” he answered. “I pray during worship,” he answered wryly. And he prayed when he was riding his bike . . . .
 |
| Bob liked to ride to work . . . and to worship . . . . |
He’d decided to ride it today, leaving the car with Betty. He’d found years ago that he could actually get some serious talking to God done when he rode his bike – as long as he was traveling on safe roads. He deliberately took a different route this morning with less traffic so he could talk to His Lord. Bob needed time to digest the suggestion she had made the day before: to use a local Midwife service to deliver their baby. “Well, it’s cheaper than a hospital, and they have a great record for delivering babies – all of them have survived as healthy children, and they have delivered over 2000.” Well, that was convincing.
Still it was new concept to him. He’d patiently read the literature Betty showed him. But this was the kind of thing Bob needed to consult with God about.
A few minutes later, he pulled into the church parking lot, and walked his bike up to the office door along the side. As soon as he walked in the building other things crowded in on him: there was the matter of St. John’s and the St. John’s parsonage. Bob was starting to love this place and it’s people. He had gotten to know the neighborhood, and had thought about some real possibilities for ministry there with the people of his parish. And the parsonage: there was no doubt it would certainly save them money in rent if they could move into the parsonage. And Betty had within a few days of their second visit to it started to come around and see real possibilities.
He walked into his office and hung up his hat on the tall, old-fashioned wooden hat rack that had been provided. Grabbing up his pulpit Bible and some sermon notes, he went straight to his pulpit and laid the notes down; but the Bible he took with him to the communion rail at the front of the sanctuary. Sunday school would start in about half an hour. He had time, and though the kneeling pad in front of the rail was not that comfortable Bob somehow felt
 |
| Bob had walked by the place of prayer often . . . . Now he had to use it. |
For one thing, he thought as he folded his hands, he had truly started to love these people and even love the work to which he had been called back so suddenly several months before. He had begun to realize what he had missed about the life of a pastor, and that was surprising to him. Bob had enjoyed writing and preaching sermons; teaching Sunday school, and leading worship. All of those things he had missed, but he had gotten over it fairly quickly. He’d found other things to fill his time enjoyably as well as his new line of work. And the people here -- at least in the short haul -- hadn't been a sack of bad pills. For the most part, they seemed genuinely grateful that he was willing to serve them in these months.
So Bob found he was missing a congregation or group of people to love. He wanted to talk to Jesus Christ about that. He found himself in those moments thanking God for his new friends and the new fellowship. Sure, there were the usual headaches of such a job, the very ones he had remembered and been glad to get away from. He could even foresee trouble on the horizon with certain parishioners or projects that the church needed to accomplish. But those things just did not bother him that much any more. It was as if the
 |
| He wondered if God's call as a pastor was still real and active . . . . |
But what made the whole thing make sense was that most of the people at St. John’s seemed to appreciate his presence. Maybe that was because they had gone several weeks without a pastor before he had gotten there, and they knew what it was like not to have a regular person who would take on the weekly responsibilities. On the other hand maybe their appreciation was some kind of confirmation of God’s calling – an indication that God still wanted him to continue doing this work.
That was a point of confusion for him however since he also enjoyed his other job and did it well. Maybe it was possible to continue both jobs? His mind was filled with struggles and questions, the sort of thing that often happened to him when he went to pray. Bob would usually catch himself after several seconds of this mental confusion, and remind
 |
| He was driven to pray. Has this ever happened to you? Maybe it's time it did . . . . |
It was in the midst of just such a moment, that Bob felt the presence of someone else. Glancing to his left he saw Jim Bob Flakers kneeling. Jim Bob nodded and smiled. “Good morning, Bob. Looks like there’s plenty of room for prayer here. Mind if I join you?”
Bob smiled back. “I don’t mind at all. I wish more people would pray before Sunday school and worship. And right now, if you don’t mind, you can pray for me. I could use some prayer for me personally.”
Jim Bob smiled even bigger. “I been praying for you all along, Bob. But it’s a joy to pray for you right now.” He put a hand on Bob’s shoulder, and the two men focused on God together for many minutes.
LBC
