I woke up this morning...

I have learned that the first thoughts upon waking are usually good thoughts to follow up on before the day ends. And usually, the sooner the better; else the day rolls on and the thoughts are quickly forgotten. Today’s thoughts were particular scriptures. One ran into the other and the thoughts and feelings circling them were like a whirl wind in west Texas, picking up debris and dust and making your eyes sting if you get in its path. But back to those first thoughts.

"...they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength..." Isaiah 40:31 KJV.

We are waiting... and waiting... and waiting... But that's what waiting is about. Not yet seeing the end hoped for. Not yet experiencing that Divine Intervention. Not yet having that affirming call from a church inviting us to minister with them. Waiting.

Our papers have been in Search & Call since April, circulating in MO, OH, KY, TN, GA, IN... recently expanded to include VA, WV, and NC. Our eight grandkids all live east of the Mississippi River and relocating to a church in any of these states would put us closer to them. So our papers circulate and we wait, trusting that our strength will be/is being renewed.

After the dust and debris passed over with those thoughts another verse came to mind.

"He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief..." Isaiah 53:3 KJV
[Apparently I did all of my memory work as a child in the King James Version of the Bible.]

As this text came to mind the word 'rejected' jumped out. Rejected. The first contact from a Search Committee in a church, usually by phone asks: “Are you still in the Search & Call process?” Yes. “We received your papers and will be considering them.” Hope. Then we begin to google the location to see how big the town is; look in the latest Disciples yearbook to see the size of the congregation. Search the church's webpage to glean other tidbits of encouragement. Hope. In a couple of weeks the e-mail or the snail-mail letter comes. You did not make the cut. Rejected. Then you begin going down a winding path that has no good end, wondering why. We are too old to be seriously considered. What are we thinking at our age…? Our experience is not appreciated… Then we cynically add, ‘Churches are probably looking for a 35 year old family man with 25 years of experience.’

If we or one of us (depending on the Search committee's preferences) make the initial cut then comes the phone interview with the committee. And you get ready for it just like you would for a face-to-face: properly dressed, teeth brushed, hair combed, etc. even though it is a genuine phone interview, not Skype. After what you feel has been a good phone interview you wait. Wait. Without a word. Wait. And wait. And wait. Weeks go by. And with each passing day your resolve grows thin. After a certain time without hearing you assume the process is dead. That is eventually confirmed with a letter, e-mail or otherwise. Rejected. By now you've learned the uselessness of going down the winding Why Way, but you recognize that you are a person of sorrow and acquainted with grief. Rejected.

Once in a blue moon that long wait ends with a phone call from the Committee Chair who apologizes for the extended delay and asks, "Are you still available for Search & Call?" Hope. An affirmative answer continues the conversation that began last summer. "We've had a crisis in the family of one of the committee members and our congregation has had to put the Search & Call process on hold for several weeks," the Chair explains. Waiting produces character and the call engendered Hope.

We hang up from the phone call hopeful. Not rejected. The committee returns to the process in prayer for discernment. Apparently Minton is not the only name they have before them. We wait and wonder. Will this be another rejection or will this be the one? [I am amazed at the similar dynamics between dating and the Search & Call process in our denomination. But that is another blog for another day.]

But my waking thoughts don't stop there. As the mental dust settled I hear words from the second letter to Timothy; paraphrased, of course. I don't remember memorizing this one. "...bring my cloak... before winter starts."

" When you come, bring the cloak that I left with Carpus at Troas, and my scrolls, especially the parchments.... Do your best to get here before winter." 2 Timothy 4:13, 21.

Thomas and I have talked a lot lately about getting settled before winter weather sets in. Getting settled means getting our household out of storage. We have been thinking that means a call from a church that would help us relocate and settle. Now we are beginning to have second thoughts about that logic. [But that is yet another blog for another day.]

Our house sold in July and the movers came to get all of our stuff on July 20th. What clothes do you keep out in your suitcase in July when Missouri is having record-breaking temps of 100+? ALL our fall and winter clothes were sent into mover's storage in Springfield, MO anticipating a call for relocation before we needed them again. Thus the feeling of urgency to be settled and have access to warm clothes in the not-too-distant future.

Those were my waking thoughts... so I crawled out of bed with a feeling of dispondency. But Thomas had a fresh pot of coffee already brewed and my day took a turn for the better.