Receiving His Mercy Anew
It was about three years ago when I first felt overwhelmed with the various roles and responsibilities I was juggling. I had hit my 30s, and found myself trying to stay afloat amidst the mounting expectations from work, familial commitments, actively serving in my community and in other capacities. On the personal front, I started to confront my worries about living a meaningful, purposeful life.
It was also around that time when God challenged me to serve in a larger capacity in my community. In several ways, that call to serve did not come naturally to me. I was happy where I was in my community - journeying with my cell group - and had no desires to lead a larger flock. I had my share of fears - personal insecurities, perceptions of inadequacy, you name it. I took up the call anyway knowing that in serving, we would find ourselves. I also wanted to express my trust in God, as I knew that He would equip me just like how he did Moses. It was a deep belief that even if the journey is challenging, it will only lead to joy as long as I was rooted in Him.
It is true that every act of service to God is a spiritual battle to be fought. Shepherding and journeying with a community involves a lot of hard and heart work. While there were indeed joyful moments of witnessing faith and growth, I faced episodes of struggle too.
Internally, I wrestled with recognising how I could put God’s gifts to me to good use in the pastoral team and community, and His purpose of placing me in this leadership position. I waited for Him to show me, but when the answers did not become apparent to my impatient heart after some time, my fears and insecurities amplified. At the same time, competing demands from other areas of my life also wore me down. With too much noise, it became hard to listen to God, and I started to rely on my own strength to fulfil my obligations.
Left untreated and worn from being pulled in all directions, I started to develop a growing resentment towards every call for service. I started to question my love for Him and for my community. Was I working for Him or for my own personal interest? Did I not love my community as much as I should? Why does service seem more and more like a chore? I was clear such feelings did not come from God and that these were temptations from the devil to give up God’s work, but I couldn’t shake them off as that was truly how I felt then.
These feelings soon developed into guilt and shame whenever I interacted with my fellow community members and pastoral team. I felt like I was not being truly present and authentic in my being and service to them. To an extent, I was fearful of sharing my experience with those around me. I perceived my struggles as weakness, which seemed to be very small as compared to what others were going through. I also didn’t want to be “found out” to be struggling in my pastoral journey, and these fears affected me deeply. I was afraid to surrender these struggles to God, wanting to “fix myself” before presenting myself to Him.
Towards the end of my leadership, I decided to take a back seat for the new term, which included taking a sabbatical from work, and focusing on rebuilding my relationship with Jesus. It gave me time to slow down from the busyness of everyday life, to quiet and still my heart and mind. He helped me realise that I was trying to fit into a mould of what I thought pastoral leadership looked like, when all He wanted was my heart. I had let my personal aspirations drown God’s promptings to me, to simply be. It is a work-in-progress, but I now have greater confidence in my identity in Him, which provides me a greater resilience to the temptations of the devil.
In last Sunday’s Gospel, the Pharisees and scribes brought the adulteress woman before Jesus to test Him. In response to their accusations, Jesus said, “Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” When the woman told Jesus that no one condemned her, He released her from the shame that her accusers tormented her with. I see myself in both the accusers and the woman. I have come to realise that I am my harshest critic, often picking on my weaknesses, brokenness and my perceived lack of gifts, which only serve to bring me further away from my identity as His blessed child. But the Gospel reminds me, in such moments of shame and guilt, to turn to Jesus, who desires for us a life of freedom, unbound by earthly anxieties and fear.
I have decided to dedicate my year of sabbatical to seek Him more through prayer and deepening my knowledge of the faith. In learning about who God is and gaining perspectives of His love for His people, I am awed and am more affirmed of my identity in Him. It is a work-in-progress but living in His mercy has allowed me to rise above the noise in my heart and mind. I encourage you to open your heart, surrender your brokenness and cooperate with Him in His graces. God’s love is merciful, and endures forever. He wants reconciliation in our hearts and minds so that we can live in freedom in eternal rest with Him, our true reward.