Sleepless nights… that wasn’t taught in seminary. Trust me, I spent over a decade in seminary. No, I’m not slow, I acquired 3 degrees during that time. At no time during that decade however we’re sleepless nights covered.
As I’m writing this, it’s 1:34AM. Friday. The heaviness of many people that I love is on my heart. The concerns that the church faces is on my mind. The frustrations of “why can we just get out stuff together and love Christ and each other” echoes in my mind over and over and over again. I pray, put my ear buds in, or crack open the Bible App. Then my mind starts rolling.
I lay in my bed, and as I lay down, I can’t help but feel the wounds from the knives in the back of those I once cared for genuinely or served with faithfully. I fight the negative replay loop that likes to show itself whenever I feel like this. The replay loop of this family leaving for this reason, or that person talking about me behind my back, or having to talk with my kids about why their friend no longer goes to church here because “my vision” for the church wasn’t their choice of tea.
Sunday is coming. My favorite day of the week. I pray the people show up. That Jesus shows us most importantly. I pray the sermon will be heard over the cell phones people are glued to or the other distractions that like to keep us away from His weekly message to His flock.
I then begin to worry and fight defeat. Why preach? Does anyone listen? All I hear about is other peoples messages and how “I need to listen to it.” I think to myself, “Why don’t you just go to church there then?” Truth be told, it works crush me if they actually did. You can’t help but feel attached to people you pray for daily.
I see the ministry team working so hard, fighting in a battlefield of competing voices and calendars. I pray for them and worry about them and their hearts and minds. I know they feel what I feel. I care so much about that.
One thing I know for sure, is that Jesus felt all this and more. He’s a High Priest who can empathize with us. So there’s solace in that while I can’t sleep, knowing there was a time He couldn’t either.
Nate Staton 