“More tears have been shed for unanswered prayers than for unanswered prayers.”
This statement is attributed to St. Teresa of Avila, and it is certainly similar to hers, but in his writings these words are not seen, at least not so accurately.
Truman Capote used this line for his latest novel, but his approach to the facts has always been a creative one. Let’s call it a kind of folk wisdom.
We think we know what we want and when we get it, things don’t always go as we expected. Our unanswered prayers, times when we knew what we wanted and didn’t get it, could open doors that we never knew we could get through. Sometimes it takes making choices before we can limit things to something we really have to choose from.
But did he answer the prayers? These can really be difficult. Especially if it’s a peak of long-term hope, a much-anticipated plan. Our dearest dream will come true and then. . . as some myths point out, both ancient and modern, it is something that happens after eternal happiness.
With the risk of the cavalier sounding about some sincere concerns, I think most of the response to Intel’s announcement in Jersey City (or New Albany) in County Liking falls into the category of answered prayers, causing tears and tears.
We have all said that it is very bad that so many industries and productions have been closed and how good it would be to see new production capacities in our region. It is a common practice in political campaigns not only to say that they are creating jobs, but also to create conditions for our youth to stay close. Economic growth was the basis of most of the planning and vision of the community that I have known since I first moved here in 1989.
Twenty billion dollars is a huge amount of economic growth. I had to search for it to make sure I remembered it correctly and saw a reminder from Kent Mallett that Intel had suggested that by the end of it it could be $ 100 billion. And that doesn’t take into account affiliate businesses that will definitely move to the neighbor’s door. Economic development? The question is not about calling the wave, it is learning how to navigate it when the wave washes us away.
It is a dramatic and regional variant of what is happening in the religious community, to a congregation that wants and plans to grow and pray and then respond to new people and different practices and dynamics of more people, let’s do something significant. the percentage of strangers. Tom Rainer talks about the “Berry Bucket” and what happens at a certain moment for the clergy when the number of people in the church changes from anyone who was there before you came, which is always the case in the beginning. to the point of its cage. after enough loss, go and bury. With new members coming after the publisher arrives, you have a new balance.
Rainer actually points out that this is often not balanced when the old berries are equated with the new pick (and I don’t like the metaphor, but it’s a well-known thing). Sometimes the previous critical public reacts against the new group, both consciously and unknowingly, to reaffirm that things were “before” or even “should be”.
The problem with the church at the time of the change was that the existing congregation could delay the change for at least a while. Now, their ideal result is usually not another type of growth, but freezing it in its place or packing things back. Putting aside the question of God’s vision of growth in an instant, we only make it a condition that congregations can stop growth when they are uncomfortable.
Our district cannot do that. The flood gate is already open and changes are already taking place. No anxiety changes the short-term reality that is on the rise.
New people, new jobs, new buildings, new traffic, new money.
That’s what we wanted, right? Yes, we can now say “but not so” or even “not so much!” for all the good he does. Growth and growth is very significant. How can we be good managers of this opportunity?
I believe this is an opportunity for religious communities and I look forward to seeing how our near future can bless both our existing religious landscape and the landscape that has emerged.
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he had never seen anything like it. Let’s share our ignorance and pieces of knowledge via email@example.com or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.