I kept looking at the list of 2020 sermon topics, chosen because of what I’ve come to know. Conversations, the ability to listen to what’s said and not said, showing up–you learn a lot. The longer I looked at the list, the less confident I felt. Surely, if this is a legitimate list, I’d be able to place it in what looks like a legitimate order.
Out of seemingly nowhere, I had this thought:
“There’s No Magic.”
It wasn’t forceful. Quite matter-of-fact, really, but without a “duh” tacked on. The cloud lifted for a moment and I understood, it all made perfect sense. I could have had a recovering perfectionist moment where I remembered that not everything can be just so. But this was more helpful.
I wrote it down on the same page as the sermon topics and it’s a good thing I did because hours later, I was staring once again at the list, doubting my progress, when my gaze shifted toward the top of the page and the reminder saved me.
It’s one thing to say that I shouldn’t wait for magic. It’s another to say there is none. The former could provide a false sense of “but maybe later?”
In that moment (and moments to come) I needed to know that the topic order won’t cause someone to lose their salvation, that certainly there was a more meaningful way to kick off the year but that wasn’t magic and nothing, absolutely nothing, will fall apart if a focus on mental health comes before spiritual gifts, for example.
Furthermore, while being able to see today what January through June looks like is wonderful, I’m not solely the “teaching pastor”–I’m a generalist and there’s nothing wrong with not having all the dates clearly mapped. Yes, it’s extremely helpful. And surely God will still give wisdom the month or week of. Surely.
So, I’ll take what I have, share it with our Elders to sit with and comment on, tweak. We’ll move forward. We’ll be fine. No magic.