That Old Office . . .

It's 11:15 pm. As I write this I am sitting at my desk in the office of the synagogue. The air conditioning is running, it's a warm and humid night. Only half of the room is lit, leaving the far end of my office shrouded in shadow. I can hear the ticking of my mantel clock sitting against the far wall. Save that and the hum of the conditioner, all is quiet.

My office. In 45 minutes this room, where I have spent 3 1/2 years of my life studying, praying, interceding, and counseling, this place where I met with elders and the elderly, where I encouraged and rebuked, and where often God encouraged and rebuked me, this tiny room with the cheap wood paneling floor and windows that don't quite fit right, this sanctuary where my wife and children spent many hours and hundreds of dollars trying to get it renovated, this little place to which I've grown so fond, will pass from me to another man, a good man, a man in many ways better than myself for, at midnight tonight, I will no longer be the rabbi of Beth Emanuel Messianic Synagogue in Philadelphia Pennsylvania.

I confess it's hard to leave. My family and I have met so many people here, had so many experiences, and made so many decisions, some good, some less so. God has provided for our needs time and time again. I'm an old romantic at heart I suppose and my mind even now floods with memories. My wife, however, is ready to move on. Honestly, I am too. Part of me, though, will always be with this congregation praying and hoping for God's perfect will.

I heard a couple of days ago that there is a rumor bouncing around out there that I had been fired from my position here. I could barely repress a smile when I was told this. My wife and I decided, after much prayer and thought, that this group of people could be best served by a family who could take them "to the next level" so to speak. We knew that our time here was done a couple of months ago. I learned long ago not to chase after rumors and try and put out the inevitable fires of distaste that they spark. I have neither the time nor the energy for such an effort. Instead, Vickie and I believe that Truth can stand on it's own. We also believe that if anyone wants to have the Truth clarified they will have the maturity to come to us and ask us.

So I will be unemployed in about 34 minutes. What now? With Hannah recovering from her surgery and with so many moving boxes filling our living room the future looks bright, if not a little scary as all change can be disconcerting. We have plans for the future but are clearly aware that God can change these in the blink of an eye. So we set our faces forward with hope and faith, believing that God has good things in store for both us and this congregation even though our roads at this point diverge.

I know that the future will not necessarily be easy. I've learned, though, that as believers in Y'shua (Jesus) we will NEVER walk it alone.