A Fifth of Jack Daniels, My Dog, and Someone Else's Life

For those of you who are wondering; 6 hours of sleep a week is not enough. This may seem physically impossible, but I assure that it is not. I’ve spent so many hours staring at the ceiling in my room I think I’ve counted every one of those little lumps. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, and I can’t think straight, all of which are pretty important elements of my life.

Early this morning around 3:30AM I couldn’t take it any longer, so I got up, got dressed and started thinking through what sort of trouble I could get in at that hour of the morning. Unfortunately, in the community where I currently suffer, there are literally no options for trouble causing at 3:30AM, so I resorted to public intoxication. I grabbed my coat, what was left of my Jack Daniels, my dog Jake, and I set out to take a walk. I hate walking, but I don’t mind drinking, so I settled for walking and drinking.

Jake must have been as tired as I was, cause the exuberance with which he normally moves, was seriously diminished. I think this must have been a moment of sheer sacrifice on his part, the cold grass under his feet, and the bite of the early morning frost could not have been as inviting as his favorite blanket, and for that I loved him. Some how I think he knew my soul was in knots, because he stayed right by my side. Jake has never worn a leash so he’s used to freedom, but normally he walks a foot or so off to my right. Tonight, in his own way, rubbing my right leg with each step, he protected me from myself.

As we walked, my mind was filled with a million different thoughts. Countless ideas, memories, and questions spun through my head with in no particular pattern. But, through the mess of thoughts one question kept nagging me, “whose life is this, and how the hell did I get in it?”

Maybe I’m just going a little nuts with all the changes happening in my life, but I can’t help but feel that I’m living someone else’s life. Today I woke up a pastor. That’s right, A PASTOR!!! I’m not a pastor; I have no business being a pastor. I’m a late night drinking, tobacco chewing, flip flop wearing, bar room brawling, old hat wearing, small town living, loose cannon, I’m not a pastor. Everything I know, everything I’ve been, everything I do has had to change. Pastors are held to a higher standard, they are expected to follow rules, and enforce them on others. I don’t follow rules, I hate rules and the only enforcing I do is when someone spills my drink, or insults my mom.
This is not my life; somehow I must have switched lives with that other guy. The guy who lived with his mom till he was 35, the guy who folds his tighty whities, the guy who went to seminary for 10 years and has initials like PhD., MDiv., or ThD. after his name.

My life doesn’t look like this. My life includes a black haired girl, a good truck, a faithful dog, a piece of land, a couple of sons, and freedom. Like Rodney Atkins says in one of his songs, “it’s a man on a tractor with a dog in a field.” My life includes calluses on my hands, dirt under my fingernails, and watching my boys grow into men.

Somewhere along that road I took a turn and I landed here. I landed behind a desk at a church, and in an elementary school soccer field, with a half empty battle of Jack Daniels at 3:30 in the morning. Then it hit me. I feel like I’m living someone else’s life, because I am. I’m living the life of the guy that God wants me to be. At this season in my life, my dreams don’t line up with Gods plan for me and I’m feeling the tension of it. I’m fighting to hold onto what I know, and God is prying my white knuckles from around the flagpole of my desires. I love the church I’m at, and I love the people I serve, but I haven’t yet given into the reality of what God has for me right now.

Today I’m a pastor. Today I have the distinct honor and privilege of helping people learn about and receive the love of their creator. Today I sit in a seat that thousands for men have trained for and would die for. Today I study the scriptures and counsel people. Today I live in the suburbs. Today I follow the rules (sort of). Today I live the life of the man that God sees in me, and not the life I’ve designed.

Today I lay on my back in a field with my dog, looking at the stars, and I wonder what comes next. What comes next for this man I’m learning to be?