After more than twenty years of being a pastor I’m not one anymore.  I know, some of you are laughing out loud and some are scratching your heads, saying, “Huh?  You were a pastor?”  Yep, I was.

Pastoring is an interesting calling/vocation.  I used the term calling because many people believe it takes a call from God to pastor a church.  I used the term vocation because many people believe it’s a job, much like other professional positions.  In my case I think it was more like a “Hey, there was a need so I tried my best to fill it” approach to the pastorate.  I never set out to be one, and I never set out not to be one.  It just kind of happened and by the time the dust settled, there I was, leading people in a church.  I was honest with them from the start, telling the folks I’m probably not like most pastors they encountered.  If they wanted to leave, they could, and if they wanted to boot me out, they could do that too.  Some were mad at me, and left, which surprised me because I think I’m a nice guy.  But then, I was a pastor, so I might be just a touch delusional.  My hope was that they would see the amazing amount of love and grace it took to keep me on the journey.  It would give them hope, knowing that if I could have this, anybody could have it.  It is, after all, a gift.  I used a ton of it, and still do.  I mean, I was a kid who grew up on the not so nice side of life and didn’t exactly know where I fit, or even if I did fit anywhere.  But, as my wife said to me once, “Whatever else you may be, you must certainly have a sign that says, ‘talk to me’, hanging on you somewhere.”  It does seem like everywhere I go I wind up talking to people.  Maybe that’s why I became a pastor.

I’ve always been a huge believer that who people are should define what they do; not what they do defining who they are.  We are, after all, human beings and not human doings.  I think we have a dyslexic view of this.  But remember, I was a pastor, and maybe prone to some fits of delusion.

Anyway, after twenty years I’ve been trying to put together a resume, go on job interviews and “sell” myself to employers, hoping to land a great, new career.  It’s interesting work.  Trying to make these long years of cheerleading other people translate into marketplace language is kind of like trying to describe a sunset to a person who’s been blind from birth.  It’s challenging and fun, however, and I am rediscovering that creative part of me that was once a young singer/songwriter.  It’s good to know the songs are still in there, waiting to be written, and the music hasn’t died.

I’ve loved every person who ever came through our little church, but I never realized how suffocating that cheerleading had become.  And so I think the best part of redoing my life has nothing to do with resumes and interviews, or “selling” myself.

It is that I can breathe again.  Sweet, Holy Spirit air that revives me, and makes me look with excitement, to what adventure waits round the next turn in the road, regardless of where that road may lead.

I am, after it is all said and done, simply a pilgrim here.