Sending Off James
The week has begun as a stressful mess. Made the two-hour drive to the airport to drop James off for his flight to his dad's. Three weeks without him. His dad is taking their family to New York for the holidays. It'll be the trip of a lifetime. I'm so happy the kid has the opportunity to visit the Big Apple, yet I've tried so hard to shield him from my worry and from the heartache I experience every time I have to hand him off to the "Other Family."
He tries to be funny, to wield his humor to lift the little gray cloud over my head. "You know, Mom, it figures Al Qaeda would plan something on New York's subways precisely when I'm supposed to visit."
"You're not helping, James."
"Sorry, Mom."
He tries.
"Houdini" Departure
Another Tuesday Extracurriculars run of commutes, in my pajamas, because I'd forgotten all about the schedule for the day until half an hour before we were supposed to leave. Four heads of hair, four mouths of teeth all brushed, socks and shoes on, materials stuffed into bags in less than ten minutes. That's got to be a record for us.
Got everybody where they needed to be on time, but after the rush to beat the clock, I sat in the respective parking lots, waiting and waiting and waiting, having not had enough time to gather odds and ends for errands I could've knocked out in the interim.
Instead of napping, I spent the time trying to pick up a wireless connection on the laptop so I could finish the resume and cover letter I was working on at home when the schedule walloped me on the head.
God's Window?
My writing mentor passed on a job lead this morning. "Leading parenting and education publication seeking engaging writers..." and so forth and so on. She thought it might be a good match for me. She said, "The pay's not great," but actually, the pay's not bad as far as I'm concerned. $125 a week isn't a bad supplement for working from home, for handing in 200 words a day, five days a week.
But it is a time commitment. And it's a writing commitment.
Just wrote a long e-mail to a friend about Anne Rice's autobiography, the narrative of her conversion, her return to faith, and her decision to write exclusively for the Lord.
I haven't read the book yet myself, but for an author of her stature, such a decision no doubt has had a tremendous impact on her career.
Compared to Rice, I'm still a wet-eared rookie, nowhere nearly as established, so such a move for me wouldn't "shift the foundations of my readership," as it were. I guess at this juncture, such a decision for me would cause barely a ripple in my professional life.
But I don't feel quite ready, quite prepared, quite seasoned enough, quite grounded enough in my faith to begin to pursue publication of exclusively "Christian" literature. That time may come, but it hasn't arrived just yet. I believe God will let me know in no uncertain terms when the time does come.
In the meantime, I half-hope this job opportunity pans out. Oh, how the family could use an extra $500 a month.
I asked everyone in my prayer circle to pray for me, including the kids. Yet I made it clear, I won't be disheartened if the job doesn't come through.
Why?
Because I have absolute faith God is only going to put me where He wants me, where I will best serve His purposes in His time. If this column is not it, this column is not it.
What I do know is that He does have a plan for me that will work to the good of all who love Him. Knowing that, I am not anxious, not afraid, and not discontent.
Lord, help me continue in patience and peace.
Church Visitation #1
I almost forgot.
The entire Plainview family did make it to visit a new church together on Sunday morning. Getting out the door was virtually painless. Mr. Plainview seemed quite satisfied with his decision to come along, and he did look handsome in his slacks and button-down shirt.
The bishop was kind and welcoming. Others in the congregation were happy to help us find the classrooms where the children needed to go, but as I expected, Eve's shyness took over, and she asked to go with me, Mr. Plainview, and James into the sanctuary to listen to the sermon. (Poor girl. She's come such a long way from her cheek-blushing, face-flushing days of hiding beneath my arm when anyone tried to speak to her. But she still has a way to go before she can navigate society unaffected. If she's like me, it may take her a lifetime of struggle to ever get "comfortable.")
Naturally, we would choose to visit a church on an "off-day." That is, a visiting speaker or a special service, or something else that is out of the norm. On those days, I find churches welcome visitors, yet they are apologetic for the mild chaos and warn us the service is not necessarily representative of the "usual" services.
The message was sweet: "Advent: Preparing the way of the Lord." But I don't think it was as deeply moving as we'd all hoped it might be. Eve wanted to hear more of the choir. James just wanted to be back in his bed. I would've liked a bit more scripture.
And Mr. Plainview...well...he was unimpressed. He's hard to impress anyway. I think he would've been happiest had we gotten up before dawn and made the two-and-a-half hour drive back to our home town to attend services at his childhood home.
However...I am in no way discouraged. I suggested each member of the family takes a turn choosing which church we'll visit. Mr. Plainview had no protests, so maybe if I assume we're trying again this coming Sunday, he'll be onboard by default?
Hope springs eternal. I have faith. I'm slowly coming to realize the "power of a praying wife." (Amen!)
Showing posts with label church. Show all posts
Showing posts with label church. Show all posts
December 16, 2008
December 9, 2008
The Search for a Home Church
I wish finding a home church were an easy endeavor. I wish it were like "love at first sight," when I'd just know if a church was the right one for me.
I must be a very picky person. I'm not sure what I have in mind for a home church, but at the same time, I know what I wouldn't like in a home church.
Not that I have a wide basis for comparison. In all my years as a believer, there's been only one church I referred to as a "home church." It was distinguished as such in my mind, because I came to know the pastor and his family, and his particular method for his sermons and services.
I knew all the worship songs by heart. I came to know the other leaders. I knew all the families in the congregation. I participated in the women's ministry, served in the choir and in the nursery. I felt completely comfortable there. I knew what to expect.
Through that one "home church," I was also first exposed to the weaknesses in a church body. I learned my fellow Christians were still capable of profanity, conceit, and pride. They were still capable of treating each other horribly, lying to each other, making poor and selfish choices. And I was still vulnerable to being treated badly, too.
That experience didn't make me a cynic or cause me to doubt God's holiness or purposes. Even after the first shock of being yelled at by the worship leader.
(To make a long story short...
I was working in a sandwich shop, and the worship leader's wife came in late to pick up some cookies. When I told her we'd run out, she got very worried and asked to use the phone. She called her husband (the worship leader) and told him the bad news.
The next thing I knew, she held out the phone to me and said, "He wants to talk to you."
The worship leader said, "Are you serious? You're out of chocolate chip cookies?"
"I'm afraid so," I said.
"Well, that's crap," he said.
I thought he was joking, so I laughed. "Yes-sir. I just sold the last one."
"No, no, don't give me that. How can you be out of chocolate chip cookies? That's ridiculous. Your sign says you have cookies; you're supposed to have cookies. I'm supposed to be able to send my wife in there to get some, and you're supposed to have them...," and on and on and on.
It took a few seconds for me to realize he was serious, and angry with me--angry that I didn't have chocolate chip cookies.
Of course, I've never been one to handle confrontation well anyway, but in this particular instance, I was caught so off-guard, I really didn't know what to do.
His wife looked at me sympathetically, and she was obviously embarrassed, because she knew who I was, I knew who she was, and we both knew I knew who he was.)
But like I said, that experience didn't make me a cynic or cause me to doubt God's holiness or purposes. Even after the first shock of being yelled at by the worship leader.
What it did do was help me realize the church is not a perfectly functioning, spotless entity. The people in the congregation are not perfect and spotless. I couldn't expect them to be, unless I expected to be perfect and spotless myself. But I'm not, and I know they can't be either.
However, that experience did cause me to evaluate what I would expect in a home church, and that standard is a genuine, Christ-seeking leadership. Kindness, prayer, a total reliance on God and His word. I know that's not too much to ask, but I also know I'm no expert at recognizing that in a leader.
So, I've prayed and prayed for many years to find a home church. I've visited a few.
At the first one, the pastor was kind, but the messages fell a bit flat for me. The congregation seemed a bit too content for my taste, so I didn't go back.
At the next one, the pastor was a bit too focused on the men in the congregation, and I guess I just couldn't very well identify with his fervent love for sports, especially as he drew on his love for sports for most of his analogies.
The last one I visited, the congregation was so large, I felt utterly lost in the pews. The people were kind enough. The leadership was genuine and enthusiastic. And the church certainly wasn't at a loss for ministries and activities. But it was just way too overwhelming for me.
What do I envision?
I suppose I'd like to be a part of a smaller congregation...one where I wouldn't get lost in the pew, and I could make a real difference when I find my opportunity to serve.
I pray for a pastor who may have quite a few years behind him, but isn't so distant from the nature of the present generation that he can't relate and struggles to be relevant.
Having the kids attend services with me on Sunday is so, so important to me. I know how much they love children's church, but having that family time together to hear the word...so important.
And I wouldn't want all the ministries and activities to become so weighty on the church's agenda that it draws away from keeping the body strong and right and in Him. It's so easy to get caught up in barbecues and fun days and coffees and classes.
---
We got an invitation in the mail today to attend a Christmas festival and performance at the big (big. big. BIG.) church downtown. I have no doubt it's a great church, but it may be too great for me.
There's also a little church the girls' friend goes to. It sounds like a sweet congregation, mid-sized. But it's a denominational church, and I just don't know if I could be comfortable there.
All this wondering and comparing and contrasting. All these questions and concerns, as if it were entirely up to me. As if it's ever been entirely up to me.
There's a reason I put this decision in God's hands so long ago, and there's a reason why He hasn't answered yet. In any case, I'm putting it at the top of my prayer list: God, please give us a home church.
I must be a very picky person. I'm not sure what I have in mind for a home church, but at the same time, I know what I wouldn't like in a home church.
Not that I have a wide basis for comparison. In all my years as a believer, there's been only one church I referred to as a "home church." It was distinguished as such in my mind, because I came to know the pastor and his family, and his particular method for his sermons and services.
I knew all the worship songs by heart. I came to know the other leaders. I knew all the families in the congregation. I participated in the women's ministry, served in the choir and in the nursery. I felt completely comfortable there. I knew what to expect.
Through that one "home church," I was also first exposed to the weaknesses in a church body. I learned my fellow Christians were still capable of profanity, conceit, and pride. They were still capable of treating each other horribly, lying to each other, making poor and selfish choices. And I was still vulnerable to being treated badly, too.
That experience didn't make me a cynic or cause me to doubt God's holiness or purposes. Even after the first shock of being yelled at by the worship leader.
(To make a long story short...
I was working in a sandwich shop, and the worship leader's wife came in late to pick up some cookies. When I told her we'd run out, she got very worried and asked to use the phone. She called her husband (the worship leader) and told him the bad news.
The next thing I knew, she held out the phone to me and said, "He wants to talk to you."
The worship leader said, "Are you serious? You're out of chocolate chip cookies?"
"I'm afraid so," I said.
"Well, that's crap," he said.
I thought he was joking, so I laughed. "Yes-sir. I just sold the last one."
"No, no, don't give me that. How can you be out of chocolate chip cookies? That's ridiculous. Your sign says you have cookies; you're supposed to have cookies. I'm supposed to be able to send my wife in there to get some, and you're supposed to have them...," and on and on and on.
It took a few seconds for me to realize he was serious, and angry with me--angry that I didn't have chocolate chip cookies.
Of course, I've never been one to handle confrontation well anyway, but in this particular instance, I was caught so off-guard, I really didn't know what to do.
His wife looked at me sympathetically, and she was obviously embarrassed, because she knew who I was, I knew who she was, and we both knew I knew who he was.)
But like I said, that experience didn't make me a cynic or cause me to doubt God's holiness or purposes. Even after the first shock of being yelled at by the worship leader.
What it did do was help me realize the church is not a perfectly functioning, spotless entity. The people in the congregation are not perfect and spotless. I couldn't expect them to be, unless I expected to be perfect and spotless myself. But I'm not, and I know they can't be either.
However, that experience did cause me to evaluate what I would expect in a home church, and that standard is a genuine, Christ-seeking leadership. Kindness, prayer, a total reliance on God and His word. I know that's not too much to ask, but I also know I'm no expert at recognizing that in a leader.
So, I've prayed and prayed for many years to find a home church. I've visited a few.
At the first one, the pastor was kind, but the messages fell a bit flat for me. The congregation seemed a bit too content for my taste, so I didn't go back.
At the next one, the pastor was a bit too focused on the men in the congregation, and I guess I just couldn't very well identify with his fervent love for sports, especially as he drew on his love for sports for most of his analogies.
The last one I visited, the congregation was so large, I felt utterly lost in the pews. The people were kind enough. The leadership was genuine and enthusiastic. And the church certainly wasn't at a loss for ministries and activities. But it was just way too overwhelming for me.
What do I envision?
I suppose I'd like to be a part of a smaller congregation...one where I wouldn't get lost in the pew, and I could make a real difference when I find my opportunity to serve.
I pray for a pastor who may have quite a few years behind him, but isn't so distant from the nature of the present generation that he can't relate and struggles to be relevant.
Having the kids attend services with me on Sunday is so, so important to me. I know how much they love children's church, but having that family time together to hear the word...so important.
And I wouldn't want all the ministries and activities to become so weighty on the church's agenda that it draws away from keeping the body strong and right and in Him. It's so easy to get caught up in barbecues and fun days and coffees and classes.
---
We got an invitation in the mail today to attend a Christmas festival and performance at the big (big. big. BIG.) church downtown. I have no doubt it's a great church, but it may be too great for me.
There's also a little church the girls' friend goes to. It sounds like a sweet congregation, mid-sized. But it's a denominational church, and I just don't know if I could be comfortable there.
All this wondering and comparing and contrasting. All these questions and concerns, as if it were entirely up to me. As if it's ever been entirely up to me.
There's a reason I put this decision in God's hands so long ago, and there's a reason why He hasn't answered yet. In any case, I'm putting it at the top of my prayer list: God, please give us a home church.
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