Two Sundays ago, I walked out of the morning service at St. Marks and was greeted by the most brilliant autumn sky. I mean perfect blue littered with wisps of white clouds and leaves on trees so colorful they looked like they were on fire. The kind of sky that inspires poetry over prose. As I was walking to my car, God birthed a great sense of thanksgiving in my heart. A sense that remains in my heart even today. I have been so richly blessed. The Psalms frequently instruct us to “tell” the works of the Lord. So let me tell you a few in no particular order:
I have a wife, a child, friends & family: I’ve heard a preacher once say that when romance is done right, it’s beautiful for the couple and gross to everyone else. I agree. I’m Indian, so I’m genetically predisposed to being averse to public displays of affection. So I’ll spare you and leave it at this. Proverbs says, He who finds a wife finds a good thing and obtains favor from the Lord. Amen. To add, I have a baby girl. For the last two weeks, she has stayed up with me to watch the World Series. She lasts till about the seventh inning and then falls asleep next to me on the couch. What a joy. Psalm 127 says, Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward. Amen again. And if all that were not enough, God has given me fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters, who I am related to by both my blood and Jesus’, who love us. Incredibly blessed.
I get to pastor and preach: I get to preach twice every Sunday. When I’m not over analyzing every line of the sermon (Why did I say that? Why didn’t I say that? How could I have said it all better?), I pause to think of what a privilege this whole thing is. Week after week, I get to communicate the gospel of Jesus to two congregations. I get to herald the good news of the King. I get to announce His grace. Over these last few months, God has done a work in my heart so that I am enjoying this whole thing even more. Preaching at St. Marks in the morning is not something I have to do but something I get to do. The right words are not obligation or chore, but privilege and joy. God is growing a love in me for them. I long for them to grow in the gospel. And I am also overjoyed by what God is doing in Seven Mile Road. I can’t believe that God has called me to be a pastor. All the time, I’m stunned God even called me to Himself. I would have never chosen someone like me to be a recipient of grace, much less to be a minister of that grace, but God did. Incredibly blessed.
I know the skies will not always be perfect blue. Who knows what storms are coming our way? Sin, division, gossip, death – all could be just around the corner. But if they should come near, God will be nearer still.