Breathless Haste

The timing was uncanny. I walked outside to call Rebecca. When I told her what had happened, she started crying. After a year of praying and being on the verge of leaping off the cliff without a landing spot, this felt as if it really might be it. I had never seen the church or met the people, but it was hard to ignore His timing. Through the years, I have learned that God’s timing is perfect, and it is rarely early. After all the waiting and wondering, and now the first day back from Africa I received this call about an interview that had to happen quickly. It seemed like something akin to breathless haste—again.

With so much happening so quickly, it seemed that the dam had burst. In the two weeks before going to Atlanta, I had another discussion about a global role at the church and conversations with another church in Chicago and one in Charlotte. My head was spinning. I also reached out to some friends from the Presbyterian world to do some due diligence on Peachtree. In all honesty, I was jaded at this point and wanted to make sure I was not moving to another church mess—one with a Southern accent this time.