Workshops, workshops, bloody effing workshops!
I was on a team trying to plan a workshop once. It was for ministers and elders, and was envisioned to be the first in a series; we would have a series of six workshops, one per year, at a central location, with excellent speakers, a good environment, and all would be great. Not only that, our committee would be fulfilling its mandate, which is always a good thing! We set it up, made all the arrangements, knew what we were doing, and then waited for the registrations to roll in.
They did not.
They trickled, sauntered, slouched, drizzled, and otherwise came in at a considerably-less-than-torrid pace, and where we had a threshhold of about 150, given costs and budgets, etc., six weeks before the event, the point where we would start to lose certain deposits, we had to call it off. I felt burned, as did the other members of the working team, and was bitter about such things for a long time. Maybe we reached too high, maybe we didn't plan wisely enough, maybe, maybe, maybe, but the essential truth was that what we were offering was simply not attractive to enough people in our catchment area.
I tell you this because I just made my plans today to attend *three* workshops this fall, and I'm helping to coordinate a fourth for late January. The three are in Waterloo, at Knox College in Toronto, and all the way up in Orillia, and they each tackle a different aspect of my ministry, as well as the joint ministry I have with my elders and others in my congregations. The fourth is for elders, and will hopefully be a good coming-together event that covers some basics as well as some introductions.
Some others have to be left behind, though. For the excellence that is Kennon Callahan, I'm turning away from Stephen Farris et al., and for the leadership thoughts of Peter Coutts, I have to turn away from a discussion on faith and the science of genetics; Diana Butler Bass in Waterloo is simply easier and more accessible (in several ways) than Stanley Ott in London! And a workshop in our own Presbytery, right down the road falls in the face of our charge-wide bazaar. Nothing stops the bazaar, and the minister better attend and drag no one away to a "workshop" (word pronounced with a considerable ooze of disdain) while it's happening! It's a case of choosing.
I thought about this because "life" is a series of choices, and they're not all left/right, up/down, pass/fail, God's way/Man's way choices. Sure, we'll face lots of those, but we'll also find ourselves occasionally facing a whole host of options, some of which have more appeal to us than others, and while I believe that God indeed has a plan for my life, I also believe that God "can get there from here" - He can find ways and routes that draw me back closer to the course He has intended for me, despite bad or off-kilter choices, even the ones where pain and personal agony are the result. If you're going through fire, keep going, said a famous man; God is not only on the other side, but with you as you go through them! Some choices lead to a blossoming of wisdom; some to crushing defeat and depression. And sometimes, all of the choices spread out before you are "bad" ones. You pray to make the best choice of a bad set, but playing this hand hurts.
Isaiah 41:10 records God saying, "Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be afraid, for I am your God." All my fears and anxieties are things I never face alone, unless I withdraw from God and close my eyes and ears to His answers. In retrospect, I suppose I learned some things from that workshop's failure all those years ago, and maybe God is still using the fallout that came from it as he tries to do things with the current incarnation of that group. But never fear and never feel alone, so I have been told.
Lord, guide my feet as I try to walk through the maze of life. Guide my mind and my heart as I try to see you and follow you. And when I fall, let me feel your touch as you set me back up, dust me off, and tell me to try again. It's hard, but I know I can do all things through you, who strengthens me. Amen.
They did not.
They trickled, sauntered, slouched, drizzled, and otherwise came in at a considerably-less-than-torrid pace, and where we had a threshhold of about 150, given costs and budgets, etc., six weeks before the event, the point where we would start to lose certain deposits, we had to call it off. I felt burned, as did the other members of the working team, and was bitter about such things for a long time. Maybe we reached too high, maybe we didn't plan wisely enough, maybe, maybe, maybe, but the essential truth was that what we were offering was simply not attractive to enough people in our catchment area.
I tell you this because I just made my plans today to attend *three* workshops this fall, and I'm helping to coordinate a fourth for late January. The three are in Waterloo, at Knox College in Toronto, and all the way up in Orillia, and they each tackle a different aspect of my ministry, as well as the joint ministry I have with my elders and others in my congregations. The fourth is for elders, and will hopefully be a good coming-together event that covers some basics as well as some introductions.
Some others have to be left behind, though. For the excellence that is Kennon Callahan, I'm turning away from Stephen Farris et al., and for the leadership thoughts of Peter Coutts, I have to turn away from a discussion on faith and the science of genetics; Diana Butler Bass in Waterloo is simply easier and more accessible (in several ways) than Stanley Ott in London! And a workshop in our own Presbytery, right down the road falls in the face of our charge-wide bazaar. Nothing stops the bazaar, and the minister better attend and drag no one away to a "workshop" (word pronounced with a considerable ooze of disdain) while it's happening! It's a case of choosing.
I thought about this because "life" is a series of choices, and they're not all left/right, up/down, pass/fail, God's way/Man's way choices. Sure, we'll face lots of those, but we'll also find ourselves occasionally facing a whole host of options, some of which have more appeal to us than others, and while I believe that God indeed has a plan for my life, I also believe that God "can get there from here" - He can find ways and routes that draw me back closer to the course He has intended for me, despite bad or off-kilter choices, even the ones where pain and personal agony are the result. If you're going through fire, keep going, said a famous man; God is not only on the other side, but with you as you go through them! Some choices lead to a blossoming of wisdom; some to crushing defeat and depression. And sometimes, all of the choices spread out before you are "bad" ones. You pray to make the best choice of a bad set, but playing this hand hurts.
Isaiah 41:10 records God saying, "Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be afraid, for I am your God." All my fears and anxieties are things I never face alone, unless I withdraw from God and close my eyes and ears to His answers. In retrospect, I suppose I learned some things from that workshop's failure all those years ago, and maybe God is still using the fallout that came from it as he tries to do things with the current incarnation of that group. But never fear and never feel alone, so I have been told.
Lord, guide my feet as I try to walk through the maze of life. Guide my mind and my heart as I try to see you and follow you. And when I fall, let me feel your touch as you set me back up, dust me off, and tell me to try again. It's hard, but I know I can do all things through you, who strengthens me. Amen.