Addison Road

About six weeks ago, I lost my mobile phone. It was a Verizon branded Palm Treo 600, the most expensive phone I had ever bought. I loved it… it had my calendar, my contacts, a few cute pictures of Ella Bee, and even a little solitaire game for when life got a little boring.

Now, you must understand how frustrating this experience was. My last phone, before the Treo 600, was last seen on top of my wife’s car. It actually stayed on top of the car until we reached the freeway, when it finally flew off and was actually run over by our friend Doug, who was following us. He called us on my wife’s phone and informed us (with no small amount of amusement) that he had just crushed it underneath the wheels of his ginormous SUV.

So, when I got the 600, I vowed to care for it. When it went missing, I had NO idea about where it had been lost. I spent three days searching my parent’s house, where it had last been seen, because I was sure that it was there. When it became clear that it was not going to turn up, I was so depressed. Here I had treated myself to an expensive, yet practical tool, and I was incapable of caring for it. I couldn’t believe God had trusted me with a wife and child. Seriously depressing

So, for the last five weeks, I have been cellphoneless. I must say that it’s not that bad… until you need it, of course. I still picked up my voicemail, but I just couldn’t bear to go down the the Verizon store (BTW, hell is a Verizon store) and get a new phone. I wasn’t up for a new plan, so there will be no deals had. Most of the people in daily contact with me teased me mercilessly about how long it took me to return calls. Here’s some lemon juice for my eye while you’re at it. Finally, in frustration for not being able to get me, Erica found an old fugly phone that I could reactivate.

Then yesterday, I walked into my office. Sitting on my chair was a brown paper bag with an anonymous note attached. The note informed me that I was the recipient of a gift. The giver listed some things that I did for the church that they were particularly grateful for, and informed me that they were concerned that I had a very pregnant wife who couldn’t reach me in an emergency.

Inside the bag was a brand new Treo 650. Now… the 650 kicks the 600’s hind quarters. Being me, my first thought was, “Wow… I just got upgraded for being an absent minded tool… I wonder what happens if I misplace my car… Lexus baby!”

Ok… so after I thought that, I was reduced to utter humility and gratitude at the thought that someone in our church had taken the time to contact Nancy (our church secretary), find out what service provider I was on, find out what kind of phone I had, go buy me a better one, and give it to me anonymously. Nancy has been sworn to secrecy, and her eyes practically twinkle like Santa Clause because she knows something I don’t…

I actually don’t want to find out who did it… know why? Because for weeks on end, I will talk with members of the congregation about this or that, and I will make sure that I am gracious and considerate of them, always wondering… “Was it you?” Every time my phone rings, I will be reminded that someone who wishes me well spent several hundred dollars on me for no good reason. What a delightful mystery.

There are many people who frequent this site who are involved in professional ministry, but for a moment, I want to talk to the rest of you. Please go out, right now, and buy your pastor a gift. Attach a note specifically outlining what particular part of their ministry has touched your life. Tell them which recent message helped you through a rough time. Thank them for being a strong force in your kid’s lives. Tell them that you’re closer to the Lord because of their life’s work.

Don’t sign it.

If you’re broke, don’t sweat it, just go for the note.

Most of you have no idea what a $15 Starbucks card and a word of encouragement can do for a pastor having a crap week. Ministry is really (or rilly) hard, and we’re not allowed to tell you about it, because you pay our bills and it would be just plain bad form. God can use little foolish things to speak peace into turbulent hearts. If you really want to reduce your pastor to a puddle of humility and gratitude, get one of these.

I’ll take mine in black, please.

There’s a megachurch up the road that has expressed informal interest in hiring me for their emerging generations ministry. Erica and I sang at their marriage retreat a few weeks ago and apparantly made an impression. I used to fantasize about working there… professional musicians… automated lights… 1.3 million dollar sound system…

I just can’t bring myself to do it. I have been seared through the heart for our little congregation of 300. This thing is just the latest and biggest in a string of financial and spiritual generosities we have experienced. Christ has expressed His love for us through them, and love does indeed cover a multitude of sin.