“It is one thing to confess that you’re a sinner; it is another thing altogether to confess your sins…People love it when preachers or Christian leaders say they are fallen just like the rest of us, until that preacher or Christian leader does something the rest of us fallen people do. When that happens, the love and admiration quickly turn to disgust, disillusionment, and, all too often, social exclusion.”
I made the decision to withhold the source of this nugget of wisdom until after you had read it because otherwise you might have missed the wisdom. These words appear in my book, Growing Up (With) RC, in the foreword I’d asked my friend, Tullian Tchividjian to write. Some have publicly complained that I chose Tullian to write the foreword, making his point and mine.
This problem, however goes beyond our sin problems to all our problems. We all grumble about the facades we feel we must put up as Christians. We bemoan our corporate lack of vulnerability, grumble about our superficiality, demand greater authenticity. Until someone answers the call by dropping something ugly in the middle of the living room floor of our a small group meeting. We want people to be open about their needs. We just don’t want to be troubled with thinking about them or dealing with them.
In my circumstance my past sin problems and current hardship problems are related. I’ve sought to be open about my most spectacular sin, the night nearly five years ago that I drove drunk with my sons in the car. I’ve been blessed with the utter inability to hide that sin by virtue of it becoming juicy news in the Christian world. I’ve sought, in taking every opportunity to celebrate God’s grace, to steward well my failure. It is a painful truth knowing that every time I am introduced the first thought that comes is DUI. It is my hope that the next thought is, “God saves sinners.”
It is sound enough that while our sins are forgiven in Christ, we do not always escape the temporal consequences that come with them. One of the consequences I have faced is the challenge of finding employment. I told my literary agent and precious friend Robert Wolgemuth, after my arrest, “The only things I know how to do are speak and write. And no one has any interest in listening to me or reading me.” I’ve been blessed with some opportunities to put my writing and editing skills to work. But not enough to support my family. I have been blessed with some opportunities to teach in the secular realm as an adjunct professor. But not enough to support my family. I have, for years, while seeking to grow Dunamis Fellowship and the Jesus Changes Everything podcast, sought out full-time work in the secular realm. Ironically, sometimes the problem is I’m overqualified. Other times it’s the DUI.
The result? The ugly, vulnerable, authentic truth is I am struggling to provide for my family. Then COVID hit not just the broader world but our own home. All four of us are recovering from COVID, including me coming back from pneumonia as a result. We have medical bills. We have car repairs. We have power bills. We have mortgage payments. We are behind. A dear friend, in the midst of our COVID battles, set up a gofundme to help us- gofundme. We are deeply grateful for those who have contributed.
Here is what I am asking. Would you please pray for us? Pray for me to find a job to provide for my family. Pray for our continued recovery from COVID. Pray that the body of Christ would come alongside us in this time of need. Would you also consider giving to the fund? And would you consider sharing a link to this piece and to the fund? These things are profoundly difficult for me to write. It is, however, all part of stewarding our failures well.
