I’m Home

It’s been awhile, blogosphere. And this may be more word vomit than anything profound, but I’m riding this wave, so hang with me for a minute.

Sunday was a long and emotional day.

First, it was my first Sunday leading at the Cape Coral Campus. That’s enough to exhaust even the most seasoned pastor. Three phenomenal services with only a half-hour in-between each one. Now, I’m used to multiple services; throughout my entire ministry I’ve had at least two services each Sunday (sometimes in different locations). But since moving to Grace Church, I’ve been a bit spoiled with having just one service at the Central Campus (sleeping in, early lunch, early naptime…you get it). So Sunday was a sudden plunge back into the old routine. It was great, exciting, and…tiring. It was so good to finally meet a lot of the Grace Church folks at the Cape Campus. They had all heard my name and knew about me…my office is at the Cape Campus and I jump in to all sorts of things…they just hadn’t seen me on the platform on a Sunday morning. So it was good to meet people so they could put a face to the name and say, “hey, he’s one of our pastors, too.”

Second, we got to ordain three new elders for Grace Church. One of the strange new realities of being an independent church is that we credential our own pastors. I appreciate so much that Grace Church has put an immense amount of thought into how credentialing works. We’ve tried to make clear at every turn that we have no intention of leaving our Wesleyan/Methodist heritage even as our denominational affiliation has changed. I think the ordinations were a way to showcase that. We showed a video before the ordinations tracing the “ordination family tree” of our currently ordained pastors. I made the stinkin’ video and I still teared up at each service as I watched the screen turn from John Wesley, to Thomas Coke, to Francis Asbury, on and on, until finally it reached Jorge, Wes, and me. I stand in a wonderful heritage.

Finally, the really bittersweet part of the day was experiencing Jorge’s last day as one of the pastors at Grace Church. He’s stepping into a new season of writing, coaching, and speaking. He’s not moving, so he still gets to be my Papi. But, man was it emotional over the past couple of weeks to have a front row seat to the impact he’s had on this church over the past 27 years. God used him so well here. I’d heard it before, but it hit differently sitting in the sanctuary to hear him say that on his first Sunday there “were less than 300 people and $29.16 in the bank. Plus we owed $1.25 million on the sanctuary.” To sit there and look around that room Sunday, knowing that Grace Church is debt free and there are a couple thousand people that call Grace Church their Church across 3 campuses and several fresh expressions…just wow!

The most poignant moment at all 3 services was when Jorge “passed the mantle” to Wes as the Lead Pastor of Grace Church. He symbolic passed the mantles of prayer and shepherding to Wes. It was great and holy all 3 times. At the last service, however, I had this profound experience with God. As we surrounded Wes and prayed over him as our Lead Pastor, I snuck a look around the group praying. I was filled with profound gratitude for the foundation we’ve inherited from Jorge’s 27 faithful years at Grace, and for his influence on my life. I looked at my hand on Wes’ back and thought, “I’ve got his back.” I’ve grown to love Wes deeply in these few months and I’m so excited for this next season at Grace Church with him leading the way. Then I snuck a look over at Taylor, Taylor, and Casey. Together, we represent the next generation of pastors at Grace. I don’t know many others as effective as those 3. In the two months I’ve been here they’ve welcomed me as a colleague and friend and haven’t treated me like the new guy.

As I stood there, I was struck with an incredible sense of peace. The 4 of us standing behind our Lead Pastor as we head into a new and hope-filled future. I thought, “I’d proudly charge the gates of Hell with these people. This is my tribe.” Then the tears started to flow as I had another, very simple thought…”I’m home.” At home in an incredible church with my family by my side. At home with this incredible team that accepts me and loves me and sees far more in me than I see in myself. I’m home.

Home is a loaded word for me. Of course my home is where Brittney and the girls are. But I’m always bumping against the childhood trauma of “home.” And for pastors, home can be an interesting concept. For 15 years, home was where the Bishop discerned I was to serve. Even in the best case scenario, like the past 5 years in Tremont, there was always a sense of being a resident but not at home. I’m not even sure if that makes sense. Like, “yeah I’m the pastor, but this isn’t my home church.” Now, I don’t know what the future holds and how God may move…but Sunday, for the first time in a long time…maybe ever…I realized I am exactly where I’m supposed to be.

In our beautiful little house. In my daily commute down palm tree lined streets. In my office. In the meeting rooms where we dream and plan and work. At Grace Church. I’m home.