An old man sat on a sun-drenched blue sofa at the foot of his bed. He pondered.
“What should I do?” He said with scorn.
Exhausted from laboring in the fields during the day while building new opportunities at night. Time had worn on the old man. And left him isolated. His youthful arms and chest had fallen flat and frail. His mind had grown, but it sometimes left him a prisoner of his own reason. It was in these moments that he turned to his faith.
He wanted peace. So, he looked for guidance. He reminded himself that he was not a god. He was but a man. He does not know what tomorrow will bring. He sometimes questioned the plan laid out for him.
He sat. Pondered. In quiet isolation, he asked. “Why? Why me, God? I was nothing. I was a boy who lacked faith and understanding. I was selfish. I was uneducated. I was angry. I pushed love away. I was a boy who knew everything, and I knew that you weren’t real. But you chose me anyway. Why?”
Tears poured down his face. His legs shook. His hands trembled. Feeling weak then strong. He bawled them into a fist. His fingernails dug into his palms. Anger filled him. And he thought. He wanted answers. He was tired of not knowing. He was tired of thinking. Day after day, thinking. What does he want me to do?
He whispered, “He does not want me to be angry.” And he flattened his hand. “He wants me to be unafraid.” His voice grew stronger. “He wants me to be patient. He wants me to understand. He wants me to love. He wants me to forgive. He wants me to accept his love and forgiveness. He wants me to follow him.”
He stood up. Pacing the floor. He listened. Minutes went by, and then he stopped. He looked up. He said, “I’m not a boy anymore. You made me a man. You made me a better husband and father. I was angry because I didn’t understand, and you were patient with me. You loved me. You showed me how to love others. You forgave me….”
He sat down. Put his face into his hands, and he wept….
Looking back up, he said, “But how can I forgive myself? All those I’ve hurt? All those I’ve ignored?”
Looking down at the floor, he went quiet in thought.
He stood up and walked to the bathroom mirror. Looking back at himself, he said, “I’m not alone. I have you. And since I let you in my life, I have been surrounded by others' love. The answer is all around me. I can forgive myself because others have forgiven me. I can forgive myself because you’ve forgiven me.”
He paused and looked down. Then, looking back up, he said, “But how can I lead when I am so broken?”
It was then that it hit him. He laughed. “You haven’t asked me to lead, have you? You asked me to follow.”
He started pacing again. He threw his hands over his head and looked up.
“Wait. You have. You asked me to lead my family to you. And you’ll ask them to lead their family to you. But I need help to finish the job.”
Pausing. With tears running down his face again. His voice weakened, “I’m sorry for needing you so much. I feel like I am always complaining. Always asking for help. But I ask again, why me?”
A weight sat on his chest as he spoke. His voice quivered, “I am such a broken man? Why me?”
Frustration swept over him. The boy inside paced. “I just don’t understand.”
Then he yelled, “I just want to hear your voice!”
As his voice's echo faded, he softly said, “Just tell me what to do. I am tired of thinking.”
At that moment, he was bursting with energy. He ran from his room, down the stairs to the main level, and into his office. Thundering through the French doors, he paused and thought. Where are they? He opened the top drawer underneath the back desk. He shuffled some papers and pulled out the sermon notes from church. He sat down. Read. And Listened.
He said…. Glorify him.
Some very special people in my life led me to Park Vally Church. And since then, I’ve felt better prepared to lead my family. Life is difficult, and sometimes, we don’t want to admit that we don’t know everything. Sometimes, it’s hard to ask for help. Each week, as I watched Senior Pastor Barry White preach about our Father, I was able to take something home that made me a better father and husband. And what has made Park Valley so special to me is that they don’t just speak the message of love. They follow it. One day, I found myself in a bad place. I had a sinking feeling in my stomach and didn’t know where to go. I got in my car and ended up at Park Valley. I rang the bell and went in. Gainesville Campus Pastor John Mozingo was there. We sat and talked. When I left, I left on a new path.
Each week, I am led by two men at Park Valley. Barry shares the truth from the stage. And Adam Dove listens and shares from the kitchen table. He is my small group leader. On one of my darkest days, I found myself pouring my troubles onto Adam before we went into a small group. I was a wreck. I had been crying the whole drive. I didn’t want to go inside and burden everyone with my troubles. Adam put his arm around me and said, “It wasn’t a burden,” and “That’s what the group was for.” When I left, I left with hope.
Sometimes we don’t know. Sometimes, we need help. Sometimes, we need guidance. Park Valley has shown me that God’s love is real. Through their guidance, I have submitted myself to our Lord and accepted Jesus Christ as my savior.
I invite you to join me at Park Valley.
