The perfunctory commute and the quiet loneliness of men who serve
If you are a man in the middle seasons of life, balancing a marriage, children, a demanding career, and a genuine desire to serve your local church, I suspect that particular knot of guilt might be familiar to you. Our days are packed to the rafters with doing things for other people, whether that is solving problems in the workplace, ferrying family members around, or turning up early on a Sunday to make sure the service runs smoothly and the study notes are ready. We pour ourselves out all day long, genuinely wanting a deeper, richer walk with the Lord, only to collapse into a chair at ten o’clock at night with our eyelids feeling like lead weights, far too exhausted to string two coherent sentences together in prayer, let alone embark on a deep theological study.