I reached out and talked to the man who was my adversary after my fall, Phillip Townsend. We made up after I humbled myself. I've written letters to my former in-laws and apologized to them. After my fall, they were all very angry with me, some to the point of threatening violence. I humbled myself to them and let them know
I sinned against them.Today, I wrote a letter to the church that ordained me. I let them know that I let them down. It was a very difficult letter to write. I told them that if they wanted to rescind my ordination, it was well within their rights. No church has ever meant so much to me as that church. It's my home church. I love all of them. Angelica called many of them the day she found out I had cheated on her. I haven't spoken to any of them since. But I wrote to them and told the deacon body that I loved them all and respected any decision they made, because any decision would be a result of the sin I committed.
I'm not bragging about my humility. I don't like being humbled. I don't like the process. I hate it. It's horrible.
Friends, I don't know what's going on with me.
For many months, I was fueled by anger at the way I was treated after my fall. It drove me and kept me going. But now, I feel nothing but humility. I want my forgiven sin to glorify Christ.I remember talking to many fallen pastors over the past few months. It seems that in the month after a fall, it is a crucial time. There are only one of two paths to choose. One can choose to self-destruct and hate oneself. This is an easy path to choose. The rationale is that everyone in the church that you just sinned against hates you, your former wife and family hate you, so you might as well hate yourself. How do you hate yourself? You take drugs, drink, or engage in some other vice and destroy yourself.
I won't lie. I've engaged in some mild forms of self-destruction. Haven't we all to some degree?
The other path is tough. It requires perseverance and focus. It takes self-examination, humility, and patience. It makes you look at your disgusting heart, recognize that you are indeed a Pharisee, renounce your own self-righteousness and find yourself alone with God. When you get there, alone with God, you must face Him, alone, naked, and full of your sin.
And when you look at Him, He says, "I love you, child. And I gave all for you. I do not condemn you, because of my Son."
That journey takes a long time. But it is worth it. It is painful, requires self-humiliation, the renunciation of self, and the realization that you're not the end all, be all of life.
But at the end of that journey - which I'm not even close to completing - is the One who gave Himself for us. And He is worth every heavy laden, heart-breaking, soul-searching step.
