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| Picture provided by: vprsstamford.org |
Today, in church, I witnessed something few of us pay attention to. The weight of burden on my pastor’s shoulders had come to the point of almost unbearable. It was a gut-wrenching blow to my consciousness to see the man we all lean on for strength and council, plus constant encouragement, be broken in that manner.
My mind raced with thoughts of what it was I could do. Pray, was what he asked of us, and yes, I could most certainly do that.
I reflected on these past few months after losing my job, and going through my own personal struggles in life. I saw how when my son was in trouble, after his father and I did our part to help bring him out of it, the next person we thought to lean on was our pastor; my son included.
When I went to him, he smiled, and made himself available to my son, fully expecting for him to do his part and reach out to him, so he could be there. He says these things not just in word, but I have seen with my own eyes how he’s made himself available to myself and my family, counseling us whenever we need. And what have we done? That was my question. What have we done to help carry the weight of the load on this one man’s shoulders?
I racked my brain through the years that my family and I have been members of this church. Sure, we helped and paid our tithes, but were our efforts enough? Because if that were true, why is it that we still allow for him & his family to carry the bulk of the load?
On the drive home, I was hit with a vision of a leaning post. This was how I imagined my pastor must have felt on that pulpit, pouring his heart out to us. Every day people pass by a leaning post expecting it to do its job with no thanks (or even help) required. And every day, that post is just where it is expected to be, doing the job it is expected to do, never bending under the pressure, and most certainly will not break. At least that’s what others think.
Sometimes we forget, our pastors are people too. Commissioned for a great assignment, yes, but still in need of lifting up just as we do.
The Leaning Post
Set in the middle
Of a busy passage way
Was a post
Built solely for the purpose
For which those who grew weary
Could lean
Daily they passed him
By-and-by
Using him to ease their pain
And bring comfort to their many aches
Always pulling
The strength from his strength
Taking from him for themselves
All there was for them to take
The reliable leaning post
Never gave in
Not once bending
Under the stress of their weight
Even as chips of his luster
Over time
Began to fade away
Often over used
But rarely ever not needed
He weathered all storms
Looking all but worn
Save those chips from his paint
Which patterned with age
As time moved on
The people, they watched & watched
As those chips took form
Waiting for him to give way
Yet, something in him, they could not see
Prevented the leaning post
From shattering
Under the depths of all their weight
He was anchored down
Roots bearing deep
Deep into the solid ground
Streams of power chords
Running through his veins
They reached up
All the way up
To the source of Light
Shining at the head of his base
It wasn’t until
The earth came alive
And one day began to shake
The leaning post rooted
So deeply and still
Could not stand
Under its ravenous quake
When all things were cleared
And folks came back
To meet in the street
The old leaning post
They saw, what was to be
The oddest sight they’d ever seen
The leaning post
Which each depended on
Had itself began to lean
They all looked around
Wondering how
He would get back to
Giving them a place
To lean
One by one
All went on home
Until the street
Where the old leaning post
Now, himself leaned,
Became empty
Save for the lone post
Being all that there was to be seen
Returning with tools of their own
To rebuild his towering strength
Each person worked diligently
Until his paint shined
With a lustrous sheen
Together they toiled
Helping the post stand up tall
And polishing the outer layer
Until the leaning post
No longer leaned
Thank you Pastor, for being our leaning post.
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