Messed Up Missionaries

I realized long ago that I am one of those messed up missionaries, or former missionary in my case. Over a decade in France and Romania ruined me for ministry in the US, at least in closed circles in which I ran. When our family returned stateside, I knew I could not pastor a church whose highest good was butts on benches, bucks in the basket, and buildings owned by the bank all the while paying lip service to the Great Commission.  Not that all churches can be described in this way nor that the three B’s are unimportant. Yet, when I look at the relatively inconsequential issues still being fought, when I see the poor stewardship of resources which are used lavishly for self-preservation rather than propagation, and then consider the world’s need to hear the good news of redemption, I stubbornly refuse to be part of the charade. I am too messed up. But I'm in therapy.