I have a lot of stuff to do.
I have posters to create, marketing campaigns to develop. I have worship music to choose, videos to create, lessons to plan and volunteers to encourage. I have a host of people and kids and families who count on me. I have a lot of stuff to do.
So I’ll admit, I was somewhat annoyed earlier today when the friendly receptionist at our church came into my office and asked if someone “could talk with you.” I had a lot of stuff to do. And I really don’t like talking to people.
The other pastors were busy or on the phone. So it fell to me. Sighing, I said, “Please send him back. I’ll talk to him.”
A few minutes later, she ushered in a nice looking gentlemen. He wanted to talk to a pastor or somebody, he said. He proceeded to tell me his story. Good job, great career, loving wife, two kids, new home. Finances sound. Relationships solid. But his eyes looked sad, and his voice defeated.
“I just want to be happy again,” he said.
On his way to the park during a week off so he could clear his head and figure out why he was so unhappy in spite of all the good things going on around him, he drove by our church. And felt like he should come in.
“I worry about everything,” he said.
As he talked, I suddenly realized that I really didn’t have that much to do. Because here, right in front of me, was exactly what I was called to do, created to do. To tell another person about the goodness of Jesus.
We talked about many things. The fact that our heavenly Father cares for the birds of the air–why wouldn’t He care more for us? That “who of you by worrying can add a single hour to your life?” That happiness is temporary and comes and goes, but joy comes from a relationship with the God who created us and loves us.
He said, “I like what you said about having faith. That really speaks to me. I think I want that.”
And a few minutes later, we embraced and hugged, laughing and smiling together. Because while we were once strangers, we were now brothers, saved by the same Jesus who came to give us “life–and life abundantly.”
I had a lot of stuff to do.
But nothing was more important than the most important thing.