“We’ve Been Waiting for You”
It was about to be my first cold, wet winter. We were prepared to leave our home in Cardiff-by-the-Sea, to move up to Seattle and begin a new ministry at the University Presbyterian Church. Would we fit in? Would I be welcomed by the staff? Would I get along with the legendary Senior Pastor Bruce Larson? I had only known him through books, though after about 20 books, I felt like I knew him a little bit.
Entering the crowded foyer of the church, we saw a crowd gathering around Bruce getting and giving hugs and words of greeting and encouragement. Eileen and I stood to the side waiting nervously to meet the new Boss. Suddenly he turned around, fixing his eyes on us, he smiled, reached out and in rich voice I would come to love, bellowed: “We’ve been waiting for you!”
That greeting, on that December day, twenty seven years ago, forever changed our lives and ministry. In one little sentence he summed up what life in God’s Kingdom could become. Up until then I had not thought of church as a welcoming, safe, healing place where God could unleash us as His vulnerable, wounded healers. It was more a gathering of the trouble free, good looking folks with false smiles and untested bravado, covered with a thin candy shell of pious phrases.
Bruce wouldn’t allow anything but truth in an atmosphere of love and acceptance. From that day, I knew I was ruined for “business as usual church.” His relentless affirmation broke through my veneer of personal achievement and self sufficiency. His love of “the first annual…” challenged me to become more creative and risky.
He encouraged me to be an author when I thought that was for others. When I froze up and told him I didn’t know how to write “Coloring Outside the Lines”, he responded, “No one knows how, just write it for me.” So I did. When I was invited to be Senior Pastor at Walnut Creek Presbyterian Church, I called him in a panic. “I don’t know how to be a Senior Pastor, what if I mess up?” He paused and replied, “No one knows how to be a Senior Pastor. We are all just making it up as we go.” Little did I know how right he was.
This week, Eileen, Damian and I gathered around his bed. “I’m going to heaven,” he said. Then he grabbed Eileen’s hand and said, “I’m in heaven right now.”
When I get to heaven, I will be nervous, insecure and wondering if I even belong there, since I don’t know what to do or how I will be received. I hope Bruce turns around, fixes his eyes on me, reaches out and says, “John, my friend, we’ve been waiting for you!” I’ll know I belong.
Thanks Bruce, I love you.
