Pastoral work acknowledges the difficulty and the pain of the quest and shares it.    

It does not attribute the agony of longing to a neurosis, it does not search for a cause in moral deficiency, it does not try to “cure” it by working for an adaptive adjustment to ‘reality.’ It honors the quest. The difficult painful moments of unfulfilled longing are integral to the nature of the relationships.   

It is not the pastor’s job to simplify the spiritual life, to devise common-denominator formulas, to smooth out the path of discipleship. Some difficulties are inherent in the way of spiritual growth —- to deny them, to minimize them, or to offer shortcuts is to divert the person from true growth. 

It is the pastors’ task, rather, to be companions to persons who are in the midst of difficulty, to acknowledge the difficulty and thereby give it significance, and to converse and pray with them through the time so that the loneliness is lightened, somewhat, and hope is maintained, somehow. 

The simplifiers, however well-intentioned they are, are the bane of good pastoral work. The spate of inspirational-testimonial religious writing that seems to find such a ready market in the Christian community is an instance of such well-intentioned simplification that results in alter complications. The stories are not honest. They are written under the direction of a market-oriented editor, not to tell the truth of Christian conversion and growth, but to tell the one part of the truth that will appeal to the element of spiritual sloth in every Christian that wants to skip the hard parts of discipleship. 

- from Five Smooth Stones for Pastoral Work by Eugene H. Perterson

4 am on a Sunday Morning.  

That’s when it started.  The battle with my other self.  

The self that always got in the way.  The self that always chose the easy way out.  The self that always chose to quit.  The self that never finished what it started.  The self that always persuaded me to linger longer in my bed and in my couch.  The self that always rationalized itself out of exercise into dessert.  Out of devotions and into sleep.  The self that left so many books unread and projects undone.  The self that had trouble walking the talk. The self that lived for itself than others.  The self that I’d say was crucified to the cross but was being fed daily with more ego, desire & passion for itself.  

The battle was on.  

• To get out of bed.  (So warm & cozy)
• To awaken myself.  (So sleepy & lethargic)
• To stretch.  (Ouch!)
• To get out in the freezing weather.  (Frozen Windshields.  Under 30.  Feels like under 20.)
• To drive over to Dr. Oh’s house.  (Dangerous!)
• To get on the Metro.  (Thousands of people.)
• To get out of Metro.  (Took us 20 minutes to just get on the main platform.)
• To get into one of the John’s.  (Nature had been calling from the minute I got on the metro.  Had to hold on for over an hour.  Longest lines I’ve ever seen.  First time to actually know & literally experience what an overflowing bladder feels like.)
• To get to the starting line.  (Took us about good half an hour to get to the starting line.)  
• To think about running the next 26.2 Miles.  (Ouch!!)

The race started with an empty bladder.  (Thank God!)

And the race ended (Thank God) with an emptier bladder & stomach.  :)

Over the course of the race, I had moments when I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t walk/run straight, and couldn’t understand a word Dr. Oh was saying.  

I hit the wall.  

I felt like I was about to collapse and fall over.

The last 6 miles were “hell-miles”.  My soles were burning.  My legs were cramping.  My hands were swelling.  I had no idea where I was or why I was running.  I had no idea, how I got myself into this.  

But the idea of quitting never entered my mind.  

Not this time.  

And not ever.  

Soon, the sound of a camp rejoicing came to my ears.  I picked up the speed, almost fell over on the last hill, but kept running, saw the finish line & crossed it.  

And there she was.  

The very girl I had dedicated this race to.  

The girl who was even happier than me to see me finish.  

The girl God had sent in my to run forever with!  

Praise God! 

It was the happiest moment of my life to date. 

The battle had only begun.  

But this time, I was ready to roll.  

With the one I’ll love forever.

Happiness is only found when you push forward, not when you go backward.