I’m Sitting in a Place I Don’t Normally Sit
Pastor Calvin Cook
October 1, 2026
“Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me.” — Psalm 51:10, KJV
This morning is different.
I have been drawn into a different place of purpose, prayer, and thought. It began with something simple: where I am sitting.
My usual place for morning reflection is a comfortable, well-worn Mission recliner. It has that familiar, cozy feel, plenty of room, and a footrest. But today, I am sitting in an old wingback chair that Gail and I bought at an auction for twenty-five cents. We needed something to fill a space in our expansive living room.
It filled the space. Comfort was apparently not included in the price. There is no reclining footrest and very little extra room. My comfortable chair sits just five feet away.
Mabel is not particularly pleased with this arrangement. There is hardly room for her usual morning routine of kneading, purring, and making sure she has my attention. Yet she has settled into the limited space beside me, purring and occasionally glancing at the apartment as the morning wakes up around us.
And here, in this uncomfortable chair, some uncomfortable feelings have surfaced. My prayers keep circling around the feeling of being left behind. Not lost. Just left behind.
I think about people I once felt closer to than a brother. Friends from childhood and my early years with whom there is now little communication. Family members whose presence once filled my life, but whose conversations have become an occasional “Hello” or “Good to see you”—once a year, if we are fortunate.
As a pastor, some of these memories reach deeper. I think about people with whom I sat for hours in hospitals. People I prayed with, comforted through loss, baptized, married, confirmed, and walked beside through the ordinary and extraordinary moments of life.
Then something changed. A disagreement. An opinion. A decision. Sometimes, no explanation at all. And people who once shared so much of life are no longer there.
There are colleagues and partners in ministry with whom I once walked hand in hand, but now we hardly speak. There are customers who valued the relationship when I could offer what they needed, then moved on to something more convenient. There are organizations that once celebrated my presence but seem to have forgotten me as life and circumstances changed.
Sometimes it feels as though you have been used until there is nothing more someone wants from you, then set aside like a worn-out pair of socks.
That is an honest feeling. But it is not always the whole story.
People carry burdens I cannot see. Relationships change. Distance grows without anyone intending it. And while some people may have used my kindness, I cannot assume that every absence means rejection.
I am also deeply thankful for those who continue to walk with me—some for most of my life, some for many, many years. Their agape friendship is a gift I do not want to overlook while grieving those who are gone.
Perhaps this uncomfortable chair is giving me room to notice what I have carried without fully surrendering.
God has been so very good to me. There is goodness all around me. Yet gratitude does not mean there are no wounds that still need His healing.
So I pray.
I pray for forgiveness where hurt has hardened into resentment. I pray for healing where memories still ache. I pray for new beginnings, new friendships, and new ways to do what God is calling me to do.
I pray for others who feel left behind.
And then my prayer turns toward something harder: those who may feel that I have left them behind.
Who has needed a call I did not make? Who has wondered whether I still cared? Who has felt forgotten while I was busy caring for someone else?
My intentions may have been good, but someone else’s hurt still deserves my attention. I ask God to show me where I need to listen, reach out, apologize, or begin again.
God created us for relationship—with Him and with one another. From those first acts of disobedience in the Garden, sin has wounded both. We struggle to love faithfully. We misunderstand, withdraw, disappoint, and sometimes hurt the very people we care about.
We need more than a change of chair. We need the renewing grace of God. David’s prayer in Psalm 51 arose from his own sin and need for mercy. This morning, his words help me bring my own heart before the Lord:
“Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me.”
Lord, do not let hurt decide how I will love. Do not let disappointment close my heart to the people You are still bringing into my life. Forgive me for the wounds I have caused, and help me surrender the wounds I have received.
Restore the joy of Your salvation. Give me a willing spirit to walk in Your ways.
I do not have the energy this morning to untangle every relationship or answer every question. But I can pray. I can listen. I can take the next faithful step God shows me.
Perhaps that means pausing for a minute, an hour, or a day. Some healing may unfold over weeks or months. Learning to let God have His way is the work of a lifetime.
For now, here I sit. In a twenty-five-cent chair, with a purring cat and an honest heart before God.
And that is enough room to begin.
Prayer
Father, You know the places where I feel forgotten, and You know the people who may feel forgotten by me. Meet us with Your mercy. Heal old hurts, forgive our failures, and show us where love requires a new beginning. Create in me a clean heart and renew a right spirit within me. Make me willing to listen, willing to forgive, and willing to follow You today. In Jesus’ name, amen.
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