I can still remember the feeling.
The service had just finished and the majority of people in attendance had already filed out of the Sanctuary. There had been a weird vibe all morning. In all honesty, there had been a weird vibe for a while, but it was particularly…uncomfortable…this particular Sunday. As I was heading to my office to put away some materials, I was met by an elder of the congregation and asked to join them in a quick meeting. It was during that quick meeting that I was informed that I would no longer be preaching for them. My stomach tied up in all kinds of knots. It was painful. Even though I like to say that I failed mind-reading in undergrad, I can say that I saw the handwriting on the wall – probably before anyone had agreed to make this happen. And even though momma didn’t raise no dummy, I still felt very betrayed and lied to.
My heart breaks for some of my colleagues who are probably experiencing some very similar emotions today. Maybe they saw the writing on the wall. I certainly didn’t. It was some pretty hard news for everyone to hear.
To my friends who were directly impacted by this news today:
I’m sure it doesn’t mean much right now, but we are hurting with you. I am praying that you are able to land on your feet. It’s a pretty horrible experience to have the rug pulled out from under you. If there’s anything I can do for you, please don’t hesitate to contact me.
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