Ministry Overload

We knew this would be a challenge when we got married, but the past month has been a greater challenge than we ever expected.

With Ryan and I both working in ministry...two different ministries...and with both of us trying to be involved in the other's ministry (because ministry is a good thing), we have become overloaded very quickly.

Notice the trend in that sentence? Ministry...ministry...ministry...ministry.

It's such a good thing, and we both love and feel called to what we're doing, but it can wear you out.

The past month has been full of church planting vision trips, budget planning meetings, trip debriefs, trip planning meetings, fellowship dinners, outreach events, outreach planning, life groups, mentorship appointments, international student lunches, and more...all on top of the usual 7 or 8-5 work schedule and regular church services.

Oh, and all of that on top of marriage. Or is it marriage on top of all of that?

That's the problem. Where do WE fit into all of those good things? People are constantly asking us, "how's married life?" or introducing as as "the newlyweds." Wait. Oh yeah...we're still technically newlyweds. Where has the time gone?

Where were all of the fun date nights and evenings at home curled up on the couch watching a movie? When did those happen?

Oh right. We had to cancel them because of ministry.

I'm not complaining. Really, I'm not. I love what God has called us to and am grateful that we and our home can be used for the spread of the Gospel and God's glory.

But I'm not going to fake it either. This is hard.

I miss fun. I miss simplicity. I miss rest.

And that's why they call it sanctification. It wasn't meant to be easy. It wasn't meant to be fun, or simple or peaceful. It was meant for the glory of God and my joy.

My joy.

Am I seeking that joy? Am I choosing that joy? Am I reaping the rewards that God longs to give me as I willingly and joyfully serve him?

That's more than a rhetorical question. That's a question that, when answered honestly, demands action.

That action is a change of my heart.

planes are like babies...

My fear of flying is much like my fear of giving birth.

When the process starts, I remind myself over and over that people do this all of the time without any problems at all. It's a pretty natural thing. That should comfort me and I should be perfectly fine.

But I'm not.

I'm not perfectly fine because there have been a few (comparatively speaking) instances where it went wrong. It would only have taken one mishap for me to be frightened. A few mishaps have been enough to make me terrified.

Most likely, when I get on a plane tomorrow morning, I'm going to go through all of this in my mind. Most likely, I'll arrive at my destination in normal fashion. But I'm still going to be scared to get on the next plane.