There are many different expressions of ministry, as those of us who spend substantial time in the church office devising ways to catch rats know full well. My friend Jim Dupont would say he LEFT ministry when he made the decision to leave the Catholic priesthood, but I maintain that his current work as a massage therapist is definitely ministry.
The one tiny problem with Jim’s ministry as it relates to my life, however, is that two years ago he decided to move to Turkey. The country. As you might imagine, this makes my receipt of his substantial ministry gifts rather logistically inconvenient. And it would not be wholly inaccurate to say that I still harbor some bitterness over his decision to ruin my life in this way.
The good news is that Jim is back in town—with his massage table—for three weeks. YAY! It’s been great to catch up with Jim, to drool over his pictures of the ruins at Ephesus (a short drive from his house ON THE AEGEAN SEA) and to dream about taking up residence in his guest room one of these days.
Of course, as ever, his excellent work on the stress in my shoulders is approaching a holy experience. So, I’ll be the grateful recipient of his ministry through massage as much as I can until he heads back to Turkey, and listen for the voice of God telling me to get on a plane . . . .