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(Publisher’s Note: Dear readers, I’m excited about this series, “Forgive Me Father, For I Have Sinned”. It’s written from the painful experience of a true brother who has walked the road of sin, shame, and restoration. When “TheWorshipCommunity.Com” launched, Ben Harrell (aka “el ben”) was one of our most active participants. I had the honor of being in the same church with him, sharing a place on staff with him, and calling him a friend. Though not as closely as I could have been, I’ve walked with him through the last year, always calling him a friend and brother. This series has everything to do with worship, with life, with ministry, and our walk with Christ. My hope and prayer is that the series will bring healing to those who have walked in Ben’s shoes, and will bring a warning to those who are playing with the fire of temptation and sin. If this series resonates with you, please comment and join the discussion. If you need prayer, counsel, accountability, or confidential ministry, please contact us and we’ll do our best to direct you to the best, safe place. For all of us have sinned, and fallen short of God’s glory.)
My heart pounded.  I was sweating.  I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so nervous.  The sound of guitars going through a final tuning, a cello being bowed, a light tinkling of cymbals, and of singers humming scales to each other. I looked over to Mack and he smiled at me and nodded. I took a deep breath as the drummer clicked the tempo and the electric guitar began to strum the first chords of Your Love Never Fails, the upbeat anthem that provides the name and theme of Jesus Culture’s sophomore album. I looked up into the faces of people who loved me, a church that had adopted me, and smiled. What a truly perfect ending to the story. He really does make all things work together for our good.
10 Months Earlier
My sanity was intact, but I was still injured, hurt by church, and in my mind at least, abandoned by people I trusted. That’s when I got a call from Mack Tucker. I met Mack Tucker for the first time at Christian Renewal Church in Brunswick, Georgia, where he was the associate pastor. It was one of those situations where we knew “of” each other, but we didn’t really “know” each other personally. We didn’t have services on Sunday night at my church on the island, but I had been advised that it would probably be a good idea if I visited the mainland and the mother church to acquaint myself with my church’s heritage.
The experience was, in my opinion, a good one. The worship was passionate, engaged, and even though the set list was a bit dated, the arrangement of the songs was impressively modern. After worship, Mack got up and led the congregation in prayer, and then introduced me as the youth pastor from the island Christian Renewal. Everyone was really gracious and I felt very welcome. That was when Mack gave me this funny little look and asked me if I wanted to do a song. I was so shocked by the request that I threw out a “Sure.” I had no idea what I was going to do as I headed to the stage, but when I finally got to the keyboard, I’d settled on Pour My Love On You, by Phillips, Craig, and Dean. I was really nervous at first, but I made it through the song, and before I was finished, many people had stood to their feet, lifted their hands, and had engaged in worship. I returned to my seat satisfied that I didn’t make a complete mess of things. Afterwards, Mack was very encouraging and we struck up a somewhat casual relationship.
Naturally, I was surprised when he got in touch with me after my dismissal. I’d heard that he’d recently left the mainland church and had started a church in his home, but I’d not checked it out yet. We met at a restaurant on the island and Mack listened to my story. I didn’t know him, but I told him everything, every detail of the event and the events leading up to it. I half-expected him to echo the now-silent voices that had promised to “restore” me. What he did, I wasn’t expecting.
He sat back in his chair thoughtfully for a moment, then asked.
“Well, Ben,” he said slowly, “have you asked God to forgive you?”
I nodded.
“Do you believe he’s forgiven you?”
I laughed.
“You know, you’re the first person to ask me that,” I replied.
I stared out the window for a moment.
“Yeah. Yeah, I believe He has.”
“Have you turned away from your sin and purposed in your heart to never do it again.”
“Absolutely,” I said without hesitation.
“Then, Ben,” he said, “as far as your relationship with God is concerned, you’ve been restored.”
Not one person in the entire time I’d been in “restoration” had told me that I had been reconciled to God, that He and I were okay. I can’t explain the weight that lifted off my shoulders. That was when Mack, in his quiet and unassuming way, took me under his wing. That was when my true restoration began. It wasn’t easy. He asked me questions I didn’t like and forced me to take long looks at my own life. (I remember the gnawing conviction of “Ben, the way you speak makes me think you have a flippant attitude towards holiness. You need to look at that.”) Mostly, though, he loved me.
Still, a dark shadow hung over my head. I was still bound by some of the agreements of my “restoration” from my old church, one of which was that I wasn’t allowed to serve in any capacity that could be considered “ministry” for an entire year. Mack agreed that I needed to take a sabbatical of a few months to evaluate how this chapter of my life would fit into the ministry I believed God had called me to, but as the year began to drag on, my patience began to wear thin. Finally, after about a year, I shrugged off the last ties I had with what seemed to be a whole other life.
I’ll never forget the emotions I felt on that Sunday morning when I finally started leading worship again, the feeling of completeness, and the unconditional acceptance of people who knew me far less (and in some ways, far more) than those I’d previously served.
I could detail the process of how I came back to ministry, I suppose, but I think it’s much more profitable to show you this: a life changed by the power of redemption, a life now lived as an open book, and a heart burning to see those who have fallen lifted higher than they were before they fell.
I leave you with the words I sang that first morning:
You stay the same through the ages,
Your love never changes.
There may be pain in the night,
But joy comes in the morning.
And when the oceans rage,
I don’t have to be afraid
Because I know that you love me.
Your love NEVER FAILS.
God bless you.
-Ben Harrell
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