One year ago...

My life looked different a year ago. A year ago I still had a job (although that was moments from changing). A year ago I was living in Phoenix (although that too wouldn't last long). A year ago I was nursing a broken heart with no idea I was about to get kicked while I was down. Thankfully a warm hug, a big heart, a little brother was on a plane at the moment the final blow was about to fall. I finished unpacking my office just in time to get in the car and go pick him up. I'm not sure I would have survived those first few days without him.

I never anticipated the last year would look like it has. After catching my breath again, I headed home. All of my belongings in a small storage unit. I assumed I would wait a month or two before quickly stepping into a new place of ministry. But a month or two became three, and four, and six, and now a year.

I've traveled some. I've been with friends. I've lived in my parents' house once again. About half of that time I lived with them. We had the blessing of sharing some life together before they moved back to Africa, and Whitney to Georgia for school, and me to...well we still don't know.

Some things began to change in December. As unemployment compensation was drawing to a close and my parents prepared to fly off to the other side of the world. I started finding more and more chances to serve. I started preaching in some churches in the area. I helped dig a nearby county out of despair after being struck by unbelievable disaster. I married off that brother who had come to rescue me from despair. I buried a friend who had loved me faithfully all the years I had known her. I preached to some youth. I began to interview with more churches. I continued to seek what might come next. And as the year comes to a close I am beginning to see some clarity.

Yet, I still look back and wonder what lessons were to be learned. I've learned much, but fear I've missed many of them. Why did I have to watch love come and go so painfully? Why did I have to be so quickly removed from a position that still showed such promise? Why the occasional struggle with families? Why the loneliness? Why the need to say goodbye? Why the continued residual memories? Why did community not survive the changes?

I'm not sure I always learn the lessons in progress. I guess I'm not clever enough to pick up on it in the moment. Often it pops up though. It's like that joke that takes you a few moments to catch and laugh at. It's like the twist in the movie that doesn't sink in until the credits role.

I'm still learning lessons from the year before. I wish I'd been a better friend. I wish I'd been a better pastor. I wish I'd been a better coworker and employee. I wish I'd loved more boldly. I wish I'd taken more risks. Perhaps I will do those better over the next year.

I have survived that terrible 24 hours of a year ago. The scars aren't gone but they are fading. At times the hurt still lingers, but it also makes me hopeful for the future. It allows me to walk with more wisdom and insight as I pursue the next adventure. It allows me to guard my heart yet long for the chance to love and be loved.

A few themes have popped up in my recent sermons. One of those is that the life of following Christ is not an easy one. I'm not trying to attach my last year to some type of spiritual warfare. I'm only saying that there are many out there who teach that the life of Christ is free from difficulty. I wish they would wake up and smell the roses. I hope to get better at living my life authentically.

An old friend smacked me around on that issue not so long ago. She shared with me that she only remembered moments where she thought she had truly seen "me." I told her that I hoped that tendency of years ago had begun to pass. Now I'm still no open book. It still takes some work to get into the depths of Chad. Many never make it, most are glad they didn't. But I hope that my life looks real. I hope that my faith looks real. I hope that my life of ups and downs and joys and pains are visible to those I seek to pastor. I hope they can recognize that this life is full of all of these. The difference for us is not that we avoid these things, it is that we recognize that even in the midst of pain, and struggle, and doubt there is hope. There is hope for the future; there is hope for today. There is hope we will make it, and not just make it, but thrive through it.