A Word from Pastor Nathan

Hi, Church!

While away in Texas, I bookended my trip with stays at Dina’s Glen, a one-bedroom quiet house located on Broadway Baptist Church’s 53-acre camp on the edge of Eagle Mountain Lake. There’s no television in the cabin, which was no loss for me, but the WiFi was out when I arrived. For those of you who prayed to God for me to disconnect, the Holy One heard your prayer.

It’s calm at the quiet house, and yet I heard many things I would’ve missed if there were the noises of a chiming computer and dinging iPhone. Numerous speedboats whizzed by on the lake, even in the early morning hours, and there’s a nocturnal fox who made the most interesting sound when I turned on the kitchen light. Most of the time, everything was still.

When reflecting on pastoring through a global pandemic, I cannot point to prolonged periods in which I have been still. Writing, planning, zooming, editing, fixing, caring, and problem-solving have consumed most of my days (and nights, too). Life did not slow down on
March 15, 2020; it sped up, and it hasn’t slowed.

Once upon a time, Jesus was on the water with his disciples in the midst of a violent storm. Jesus was sacked out, sound asleep. Apparently, Jesus can sleep through anything, but that’s another story. The disciples woke him up, gave him an oar, and told him to help row their boat ashore. Instead, Jesus rebukes the wind and says to the sea, “Peace! Be still.”

I’ve been longing to hear those words for 15 months.

Throughout my time away, it was easy to get drawn back into the hustle of ministry: check email, respond to text messages, and write Wednesday’s sermon. I cannot tell you that I heard the voice of God while on vacation, but a refrain kept coming to mind: “Nathan. Peace. Be still.” Stillness is hard when you prefer to be on the go. Too often we think of silence as absence, a void that needs to be filled. This past week, however, silence and stillness were the constant, and they were holy.

Our life is now accelerating toward regathering on May 23. I cannot wait, but I hope as we approach that day, we’ll hear the holy whisper of peace that reminds us to be still.

Peace,