I have so much to say….so much mulling around in my head…and yet nothing seems to come out when I try to put pen to paper…or better yet, fingers to the keyboard.
Interesting.
Considering how my last church plant update spoke of my new church taking me out of my comfort zone of being around singles to being around many young families, I thought it would be appropriate to update on my first day volunteering with our children’s Sunday School.
Let me set the stage, my church is about 27 adults, too many kids to count, and we meet in a house. The adults have church in the living room, the kids have Sunday school in the dining and second living room. Today, I was volunteered to do the kids church (I’d like to say I saw the need and rose to the occasion, but really, I stepped up because I was specifically asked to do it). I was nervous, not knowing what we were studying and not wanting to mess anything up, I walked in to a story, a few questions, and a not-yet-defined craft project. Things went okay for most of the morning, I had a great helper who got snacks and helped me as needed. Then…almost as if they had devised this sneaky little plan…one by one, each one of the youngest kids had to use the potty.
Okay, story time I can handle. Craft time, snack time, play time…I get it. BUT POTTY TIME…what am I supposed to do with that?? Was this part of the deal? Seriously!
I mean, how much do I help…
Do I help at all?
Do you wipe?
Do they wipe?
Do I wipe?
I don’t know!!!
You wouldn’t think that something as simple as a bathroom break would send me over the edge, but it did. By the time the last one looked at me and told me he got peepee on his pants, I nearly lost it. I thought it was my fault for not knowing how much help these kids needed to go potty. And now, I had to face the parents, asking for a spare set of pants and underwear.
I never realized how scary it can be to be pushed beyond your comfort zone. I’ve gone to other countries, stepped into places and towns and felt a change or discomfort that was so much more manageable than feeling utterly clueless with those kids and their active bladders today. Even as the pastor smiled at me being pushed into the “unknown”, anxiety fought within me to bring tears to the surface (for the record, I didn’t cry…this time).
After church, as we fellowshipped over salad, I listened as the pastor spoke about the consumerist mentality of church that exists today. Specifically how we’re all walking out of that environment into a house church that will only survive if we learn to rely and support each other. There is a culture change that must happen – from the consumer mentality to one that is humble and service focused. With the anxiety of my morning was still fresh, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of conviction when the pastor made his comment. Okay, maybe not so much a “twinge”, maybe it was more like a punch! After all, I haven’t jumped at the opportunity to serve my church. I bring food each week, but that has gone from a thing I love to an action I almost loathe because it’s now expected of me. I only do kids church if they ask me. Maybe I’m not as much of a servant as I thought I was…
This afternoon, being pushed to walk through my discomfort and serve my church with the kids, I realized something about myself. I’ve talked so much and criticized the modern church for its consumerism. The consumers go on Sunday Morning, and church administrators make sure the right programs are in place to feed them. I have criticized this so much…only to realize today that I am that church. I am the consumer. I am the Christian who looks at Sunday service for what I can get out of it and not for what the body needs. I have this sense of entitlement that my needs must be first met before I can really work to meet the needs around me. I am the Christian who can look around and see all that’s wrong in the world around her…and completely miss how well she actually blends in. The amusing thing is that it took a 2 yr old with wet pants to finally open my eyes to that reality.
Oh Lord, please take this heart of mine. God it seems so off and so far from what you would have. Please forgive my self-centeredness. Please help me to embrace this church with the mission of bringing the promise and experience of your redemption and kingdom to those in my midst. Please take my eyes away from the mirror and place their focus on your heart. Please God. Please.
I see myself sitting…a window seat, a snowy afternoon and a hot cup of tea. My Bible lies beside me, but my arms are too weak to pick it up, or perhaps I’m trying to find in the world outside what I’ve been taught is only found therein. I sit all afternoon, chilly, but relentlessly watching the snow cover the ground, the people pass to and fro, and the light diminish beyond the horizon. The dull afternoon turns into evening and eventually the nightfall creeps in. I remain frozen; breathing…barely. The only light in the room is that scented candle I lit hours before, burning on a nearby stand.
How fitting…that the ambiance of that evening and thinking of the image I created, sitting in that sill, would mirror the heaviness in my Spirit. Lost in thought, stagnant, and like a light barely flickering, cold and peering from the inside looking out – all day I sit dreaming of a world I wish I saw. And now, as I put to paper the imagery of my heart I can’t help but wonder if this is really me and how long will I continue sit so still?
A Beautiful thing,
Crisp clear nights
When the stars, so close,
Appear within reach
So that as I stand outside
And if you were to go outside
Staring at this same night sky
A million miles apart, or in the lawn across the way
We might find each other
Amidst the crisp and clear night sky
Reaching out, our fingers just might touch
And even if they don’t
Please don’t say you won’t
Try
For another year is passing by,
And all we have are crisp and clear December nights
And a sleeping love inspired by a hope for the other
Sharing in this moment somewhere
Standing in awe of this same starry sky.
One of the things that always seem to come up when you’re preparing to do mission work, specifically in another country, is the idea of expectations. Often times, our expectations of a trip or service project can define our reaction to that trip or action played out in reality. We can find disappointment is reality didn’t meet or was different from our expectations.
I’m not leaving the country… or even the city, but I’ve thought a lot about expectations as I’ve prepared to enter in this season of church planting here in Maryland. I know my propensity to define church based on my “to-date” experience of church. I have expectations of people and what ministry might look like with this church plant…I’ve thought a lot about what I think will be hard for me and what I’m excited to grow in.
I’ve processed through a lot. I thought I was preparing for a lot.
Now, two weeks into official core-team meetings, I’m realizing that perhaps one of the hardest things for me to digest was something that my expectations, my propensities, and my thinking completely missed. You see, I’m going through a major adjustment and feelings of withdrawal from my church…specifically the young adults ministry I’ve been a part of for several years now.
My church plant, interestingly enough has placed me in the middle of many, many families. There are teens, there are young kids, there are toddlers, and there are babies that are growing in bellies. There is all this talk of being better parents, taking care of kids, what to do with kids…all of this very important, I recognize that. By the time I leave our 2.5 hr meeting, I’m really just wanting to be around other singles…less kids…something more relatable…something more comfortable.
When I step away from my discomfort and look at the situation, I praise God for putting me here. Not having siblings or parents or a spouse…I really have no idea how or what that is supposed to look like…and this allows me a glimpse…maybe an opportunity to grow – especially if, Lord willing, God gives me a family of my own one day.
When I’m sitting in my discomfort I freak out because I have no siblings or parents or a spouse. I’m alone in that respect with the church plant and I’m surrounded by people who have one of the things I’ve always wanted – family. It’s hard and uncomfortable. I nearly hate it. And by the end of our meetings I long to find others like me – my single friends, my independent friends…I long to be back in my comfortable singles ministry where I can, to some extent, forget these things that have already started haunting me 2 weeks into the plant.
It’s funny – the road God brings us down. This is hard, and I won’t sugar coat it and make it seem like I’m thrilled to be embracing this struggle right now. But I do trust in God’s sovereignty and I’m also convinced that it’s usually those things that make us the most internally uncomfortable that point to an area in our lives that needs God to gracefully start working.
Unexpectedly, today…the place for me seems to lie somewhere in the middle of a bunch of young Christian families. I wasn’t expecting this struggle. But now that I’m in it…I can’t help but expect God to work in it…
we’ll see what happens.
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