A liminal space -- that in-between space of waiting, of not knowing, expected to be short-lived. I am mortally afraid of such spaces of uncertainty. Much to my unwelcome surprise and a great deal of resentfulness, I found the first twelve years of my ordained ministry defined not by the "rootedness" I hoped for, but by one liminal space after another.
Even though the cross is central to Christianity, I still get surprised every time God asks me to pick up mine and follow him. It’s a bit of a shock to the system, and often induces confusion. Surely I took a wrong turn somewhere… If God is in this, where is his grace? How could he possibly be asking me to lead when I’m feeling so crushed and broken? This is where I found myself during a season that had started as a grand adventure with God.