O, for the wisdom of Solomon

I was faced with a conflict almost immediately after becoming a pastor. Two men in the church were pursuing the same part-time youth position. The committee in charge of filling the vacant role waited until the new pastor came on board to help with the decision.

It wasn't easy. Both men were loved in the congregation. Both men were passionate about filling this position. Both men were aware the other had applied. Even though I was new, I had already come to love and appreciate these men, too.

It couldn't be avoided. A decision had to be made. One did appear more qualified than the other, in fact, none of the other applicants held a candle to his experience or education. We prayed. We discussed. We squirmed. Then we decided what we felt was in the best interests of the students. And it went down-hill from there.

By the time everything was said and done, both of these beloved men and their families left the church, other families left the church, and tensions between church members and deacons and committee members were high. Some long-time relationships were severed. People looked to me to "fix" things and "lead" and do the "right" thing, but I was bewildered by then and totally taken aback and grieving.

The story of Joseph kept me alive as I focused on God's sovereignty. Sin played a part and Satan had a hand in it, but to this day I feel that, ultimately, it was God who had frustrated the process for some purpose known only to Him. Not everyone is comfortable with a statement like that, but I have that big of view of God.

I wanted to run from the scenario unfolding before my eyes, but I thought, "shepherd's don't run." Besides, I had burned my ships. There was no going back. I was committed.

Lots and lots of lessons came from this conflict. I hope I've taken them to heart. As for what I would do differently if given the chance? Well, hindsight is always 20/20. Looking back, I think the right decision at the beginning would have been to sit both of these men down together, explain the delima, and, appealing to them in love, choose neither men for the position.

I don't know that the end result would have been very much different. But at least then I wouldn't have felt stuck between a rock and a hard place. I couldn't be accused of choosing one over the other. A host of bad feelings could have been avoided. Who knows, really. A year has gone by and I still dwell on the "if only's" and "woulda-shoulda-coulda's."

And here's the thing, there are countless decisions still to be made in the pastorate. Any one of them could make or break a ministry, a vision, a relationship, a pastor. Praise God for His sovereign grace in the life of a church, redeeming men and their mistakes.