Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
This is it. It’s a non-descript brick building that was converted from a coffee shop a few years ago. But inside, peace awaits me. After all, I’ve always turned to God for guidance, and today isn’t any different. I know he won’t let me down, and while he’s never explicitly answered me, my faith and devotion tell me that even through this hardship, he’ll be there with one hand on my shoulder.
I walk up the stairs and push open the door. It’s silent inside, and a bit gloomy and dark, which is okay. I take a deep inhale and then walk into the nave, breathing in that distinct church smell.
This is it. My safe place. My sanctuary. As I sink into one of the hard wooden pews, my heart slows its rapid pace and my breathing evens a bit. I will find myself, and God will heal my hurt, here in this sacred spot.
2
Jordan
“Do you have any idea what sermon you’re going to give this Sunday?”
I look over at my fellow pastor and best friend and let out a long sigh. It’s not Jason’s fault that I’m frustrated. He hasn’t done anything except try to help. It’s really all on me.
After all, the end of the week is getting closer, and I have intense writer’s block. This week is my week to give a rousing, moving sermon, and I’m dropping the ball big time. Damnit.
Jason and I alternate when it comes to sermons. Usually, he sermonizes one week, and then I go the next. Or he might do two in a row if he feels struck by inspiration so we don’t have an absolutely rigid schedule. But more often than not, we take turns, and I’m falling flat on my face right now. Sunday’s almost here and I haven’t come up with a single idea. I haven’t been this behind with writing in a while, probably not since we started this church. And back then, I had more of an excuse because we had so many more plates spinning.
“No, but I’m working on it,” I grump.
My co-pastor grins.
“That’s what you said yesterday.”
“Well, I’m doing today what I was trying to do yesterday.”
I know Jason isn’t purposefully being an asshole. I’m more annoyed with myself then him, to be honest. After all, he just wants our church to succeed, which is the same thing I want. It’s our baby because we’re the founding pastors, and we’ve been nurturing our flock carefully for the last few years. Frankly, we’re still in our formative years where a lot can and probably will go wrong.
After all, this is New York City, where most people seem to have lost touch with God. I’m not saying that everyone’s a heathen, I’m just saying that most city folks seemed consumed with day-to-day life, with little thought for spiritual renewal and healing. They’re chained to their desks, and all they ever talk about is work, work, work, with a little bit of hedonism thrown in.
But there’s more to life than that, and that’s where Jason and I come in. When we first announced plans for the Village Church, everyone thought we were crazy. Most people straight out of seminary find an already established church to join, or a pastor to mentor them.
We did neither.
We wanted to start a new congregation, and provide a type of grassroots, spiritual healing that was lacking in the world around us. So we struck out on our own.
And here we are, four years later. Our congregation has grown bigger than we could have possibly imagined. It’s absolutely crazy. Our aisles are filled on Sundays, and it’s startling to think that when we first opened our doors, we were preaching to congregations of ten people or less most weekends. Plus, the people who come to us are all so devoted, it’s rather inspiring.
Which is why I want to make sure every sermon I give is actually good. I can’t let any my flock down. They come to us weekly, looking to be inspired, looking for guidance, and most of all, looking for God in their lives. It’s my job to shepherd my flock, and I want to do my best.
“Do you need help, my friend? I’m sure if we put our minds together, we’ll get this done in a couple hours,” my buddy says reasonably.
“No, I got this,” I respond. While I appreciate the offer, I’m sure I can figure this out. Jason has his own duties to take care of, and I’d feel extra bad if my inability to think caused him to fall behind.
“Are you sure?” he offers again. Now, he’s really getting on my nerves. I shoot him a glare.
“I’m sure.”
I go back to staring at my notebook. My Bible is right there next to my notepad, but I don’t even know which verse to go to. I need a topic of the week, and then hopefully, the rest will fall into place.