Falling apart

My heart is raw again today.  Kip distributed an email from M— about the lease for our coffeehouse.  She talks about feeling taken advantage of.  Father John said, “I’m only half way through and I’m steaming.”  That is how I felt too. We didn’t ask for any of the generous things she felt were to her disadvantage.  She keeps backpedaling on her verbal agreements and yet seems upset that we need a lease.  She is upset that the process is taking so long when she stalled in getting us assurances that she was up to date on her financial obligations in the building. It is frustrating.  It feels like everything is falling apart.

I know the frustration of trying strategy after strategy and nothing bearing fruit.  That is how I felt on staff at Faribault.  That is how my church feels about the parade of pastors over their 75-year history.   When the coffeehouse seems tenuous, I suspect that if it fails, it may be the cause of my leaving. Defeated.

I am listening to Fee sing Everything Falls.  “When everything falls apart, your arms hold me together.  When everything falls apart, you’re the only hope for this heart.”  God is my hope still.  I am powerless to bear fruit.  And God, at times I feel angry with you for not producing fruit in me.  Then I wonder if in some way I am less connected to the vine than I ought to be. Perhaps it is just a matter of holding on?