As I sit here writing the very first post for The Pasture Pulpit, I keep asking myself one simple question:
Why me?
What do I have to offer?
I'm not a pastor. I don't have a seminary degree. I'm a 62-year-old businessman and farmer with a past that is anything but the résumé of a preacher. I have made mistakes. I carry scars. And for many years, I carried secrets that almost no one knew.
When I was a young boy, I believed I might someday become a minister. I loved Sunday school and was often the child asked to close in prayer before we dismissed to our classes.
Then, around the age of nine, everything changed.
I was sexually abused in a church setting.
Like so many children who experience abuse, I believed it was somehow my fault. My parents suddenly decided to send me to Christian summer camp, I attended church with neighborhood kids instead of my church, and inside I felt ashamed, broken, and unworthy.
Rather than face those memories, I buried them.
Those buried wounds eventually surfaced in destructive ways. As a teenager and young adult, my life spiraled into sex, drugs, and alcohol, far removed from the "good boy" my parents boasted of when I was young. Later, those same unresolved hurts showed up differently. I became intensely driven, developing an over-the-top Type A personality that fueled my career. I often joked that my success came from the "south-side chip on my shoulder."
But unresolved pain always demands payment.
It contributed to two failed marriages. It strained relationships with my children. Through conflict and painful circumstances, they became distant from me. I certainly wasn't a perfect father, and there are things I wish I had done differently. Yet I have never stopped loving my children, and I would do almost anything for them.
Everything began to change when I met a Christian counselor.
After many months of therapy, I made a statement I'll never forget.
"What really hurt," I said, "was that people were so quick to point out my behavior, but not one person ever asked why."
She quietly looked at me and simply asked,
"Why?"
Without thinking, the words poured out:
"Because I didn't want to remember being sexually abused."
For the first time, I spoke the truth out loud.
That moment became the beginning of healing.
A few months later, I met a woman who showed me that I was still worthy of being loved. Although that relationship wasn't meant to last, God used it for another purpose, she introduced me to a church where, the moment I walked through the doors, I could tangibly sense God's presence.
The truth is, He had never abandoned me.
He had been there all along.
I was finally able to recognize His presence, and the healing continued.
Two years later, I brought the woman who is now my wife to that same church. God blessed me with a true partner, someone who loves me for who I am, believes in me, encourages me, and, most importantly, loves God more than she loves me.
So today I find myself pondering the question once again:
Why me?
Then I remember that I'm not the first person to ask it. Moses asked God, "Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh?" (Exodus 3:11).
Jeremiah protested, "I do not know how to speak; I am too young." (Jeremiah 1:6).
Even Jesus, knowing what lay before Him, prayed, "Now my soul is troubled, and what shall I say? 'Father, save me from this hour'? No, it was for this very reason I came to this hour." (John 12:27).
Perhaps the better question isn't, "Why me?"
Perhaps it's, "Why not me?"
I don't claim to be a minister.
I'm simply a layman, a businessman, a farmer, a husband, and a follower of Christ trying to understand God's Word and how it speaks into the issues we face every day.
That is the purpose of The Pasture Pulpit.
Not to replace the local church.
Not to replace pastors.
But to encourage ordinary believers to open their Bibles, think deeply, ask honest questions, and grow together in Christ.
As Paul wrote, "Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom..." (Colossians 3:16)
If God can use Moses, a shepherd... Jeremiah, a young man... Peter, a fisherman... and Paul, a persecutor of Christians...
Then perhaps He can also use a farmer with a story.
Maybe He can use you, too. After all, we all have our own testimony.