For six weeks, much like last summer, I worked at a summer family camp. I packed my lots of clothes, shoes, bedding, and toiletries. This summer I was in charge of organizing skits, being emcee for a few events, leading some worship sessions, playing cajon, and developing lots of the creative aspects of the camp. I was rarely able to sit through an entire meal because I was constantly performing in a skit, playing cajon for a song, or preparing something else totally fun, goofy, or absurd.
And, as much fun as I had during those skits and songs, I have to admit I was a little frustrated. One of the largest opportunities for ministry at camp was during meals, when staff sat with families and talked, listened, loaned and gleaned wisdom about relationships, family, and marriage. And, when I left the table 10 minutes into the meal, I was often excluded from those conversations. I felt left out of the real ministry.
I arrived at camp full of excitement and fervor, and I left weary and low. The event nights, parties and skits that initially thrilled me turned into tasks that bothered me. My heart, which at the beginning of the summer was open and engaged, soon turned hard.
I tried to play it off as if nothing was bothering me, and that my time at camp was just as I expected it would be: utterly enjoyable and full of impact. I didn't tell my friends at camp or at home. I kept it all to myself. In hindsight, that is why I didn't blog. Every time that I sat down to write, I typed things that sounded negative or too heavy and contemplative. I didn't want anyone to know what I was experiencing.
My final week at camp, though, a friend asked me, "What are you going to take home from this six weeks that you've been here?" I wrote that question in my journal, and while reading Psalm 73 the next day, I found my answer.
Along with my clothes, I packed lots of expectations. Oh, and I had become jealous.
"But as for me, my feet had almost slipped;
I had nearly lost my foothold.
For I envied the arrogant
when I saw the prosperity of the wicked.
They have no struggles;
their bodies are healthy and strong.
They are free from burdens common to man;...
This is what they are like -
always carefree, they increase in wealth." (Psalm 76:2-4, 12)
In my journal I wrote this. Each verse referenced in from Psalm 73.
There are people this summer who aren't working in ministry. They aren't struggling. They aren't battling. They are carefree, and I envy that. Its hard to admit that this year is not the same. This year is not the same. Pride has been my necklace (vs. 6). I've been in the spotlight so much, and its hard for my ego to stay in check. I'm overly proud of all I do at camp. I feel often that my attempts to pursue righteousness are in vain (vs. 13). Overall, my spirit is embittered (vs. 21).
Despite all of this, I know that I am always with God, that Jesus the Christ holds me, and that the Holy Spirit guides me with his counsel (vs. 23, 24). I should have expected NOTHING at camp. I should have hoped for NOTHING more than an encounter with God, and growth in Christ. I should have DESIRED nothing more than that time with him (vs. 25). I know that I will continue to be weary, and that in my heart of hearts I will want to relent. But, I know that Christ's joy is my strength and perpetual sustenance (vs 26). I recognize that for me, it is GOOD for me to be near to the Lord. I will make the Lord my rest, my shalom, and I will tell of what he's doing in me, through me, and in my world (vs. 28).
May you ignore your tendency to envy the wicked because of their carefree life. May you have an exodus of expectations. May you expect nothing in life and in ministry, except an encounter with God and growth Christ. And, may you receive Christ's joy as your strength and perpetual sustenance.
Peace, love and a life free from expectations -
Seth
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