We arrived at the building which looks like much the office building it once was on this crisp fall day. The leaves are beginning to change, though I know that only because of the ones we saw as we drove here this morning. There isn't a tree in sight as we pull up to the building. There is little activity in the parking lot. No one directing traffic as they were the last time we were here. We find a parking spot, one a little farther away so we can pull straight out instead of backing out amongst the cars that will hurriedly be exiting to enter into the rest of the Sunday routine.
We hesitate a moment as to the best way to enter the building. Having visited once before, we know the room where we will worship is on the bottom floor of the building. So if we go up the stairs to enter the front doors, we just have to go the stairs inside to reach the worship room. Did you notice I didn't call it a sanctuary as you would in a more typical church? Or I suppose I could call it an auditorium. Sanctuary seems too "churchy" for this space that looks more like a corporate meeting space. And auditorium seems like a word that should be used in a theater or school setting. So I'll call it a worship space to reflect its purpose and also the reality that it looks and feels different than what is expected at a traditional church.
We opt to go up the wide concrete steps at the front of the church and enter the main doors upstairs. We are greeted by friendly but unfamiliar faces, smiling at us as we enter. We shook hands with the young man and then headed down the aforementioned stairs to the worship space. Unsure whether we were early or late, we headed through the doors to find seats. The lights were low in the space that contained a stage, rows of movie-theater like seats, carpeting, and these annoying pillars that you have to pay attention to when choosing where you will sit.
We tend to be front of the church people. I find my ability to pay attention is much greater if I can focus on the speaker rather than all of the people in front of me. And because of me, our family has always tended to sit toward the front. Sometimes much to the dismay of my children, but because they aren't with us this morning, Eric is a good husband who lets me sit where I want. We find on the same side of the room where we sat the last time we were here, something I realize I do: always gravitating back to the same place when choosing a seat. I love change, but this is one way where my behavior does not reflect that. I really like to sit in the same place each time I visit a church, go to class, attend a staff meeting, or at our dinner table. A creature of habit in that.
We were meeting our dear friends Ian and Bre, whose wedding we had attended in the middle of September. As always, they were a little late arriving, so we were in the midst of singing the first song when they arrived. We had been looking out for them and had even texted them to let them know where we were sitting. We adore this young couple. They inspire us to be better people. To pursue our faith. To look at our own marriage and the example we are setting as we interact with them. Their wedding was truly one of the most precious we have ever attended. We are so blessed to be a part of their lives and to have them as a part of ours.
We exchanged awkward hugs as they stepped past us in the row to get to the seats we had "saved" for them. Bre sat next to me and Ian went to the end. Interesting to me how this ritual is so often repeated. The women sit together in the middle with the men on the ends. I actually appreciate the custom and feel cocooned by the protection of the men on the outside. One of the very few times I welcome an old fashioned tradition.
As we continued singing the worship songs I found myself melting more and more into the mode of praising Jesus. If I'm honest, this is such an important part of the Sunday morning experience for me. This time of lifting my voice to the Lord, letting Him know how much I love Him, and doing it with lots of believers around me. It just feels good to me. And even though the songs we sang this morning were unfamiliar to me, I was able to follow them and experience a true love of Jesus as I sang the unfamiliar words to unfamiliar melodies. As always, I am keenly aware of the body language, participation, and posture of those worshiping around me. I always struggle to stay aware and not judgmental, as I know that is not my role. More importantly, this is a time when I am to be focused on the Lord, and not on those around me. And so often I keep my eyes closed to avoid any distraction. When I don't know the songs this is a little harder for me and so I really do prefer to sing songs I know well. It keeps my attention on Christ alone!
After the music, we sat down while a young pastor, you know the one who is a David Crowder wanna be, comes up, announces the video with the announcements, prays for us, and then conducts the offering. The praise band leads us in another worship song while the velvet-like bags are passed around. These are interesting to me. They look like those bags that magicians use when trying to pull a bunch of flowers or a rabbit or a dove out of a bag. The bag passes down our row without anyone placing one penny in it, and for a moment I wonder what kind of example we are setting in that. We tithe Eric's gross income and spend more than I make on our college ministry, so I don't really feel guilt about not putting anything in the bag as it passes, but I wonder if we need to have a conversation with Bre and Ian about tithing when you don't have a home church yet.
Following this song, the pastor comes up. He is dresses, as usual, very casually in designer jeans, an untucked shirt, and what appear to be some very expensive shoes. A stylish, tall, handsome man who looks a little too pretty to be a pastor. His appearance has always been a little unsettling to me, having seen him in person three times at this church. He starts talking to us by relaying a story. Honestly, I can't even remember that first story right now. I do remember the gist of the message, however. And more specifically I remember those things he mentioned that, I believe, were especially intended for me.
The text was Exodus 14-15, the story of Moses and the parting of the Red Sea. The sermon series has to do with taking our faith to the next level. Pastor Ron outlined the 7 steps we need to take to achieve that next level of faith. For me, the biggest challenge is the same one I addressed and committed to during my class, Teaching for Transformation: getting out of the way! I so often want to be in control that I don't leave room for God to be in control. My efforts will never match His, so why do I keep trying to do what only He can do?
There were lots of other points, some I'm certain would be worthy of my attention. But it seems that God has a message for me and I keep hearing it over and over. Get out of my way!!! I've got this. When I need your help, I'll let you know. But for now, get out of the way!
What will it take for me to learn that? What will it take for me to be transformed by the teaching I keep hearing? Lord, I pray I would internalize those words and allow You to do your job while I do the one You have designated for me to do.
Sunday, October 20, 2013
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
Dinner Amid Chaos...
Tuesday has become the night we eat out. A quick trip to Chipotle is the usual. But tonight Eric had a hankering for a hot dog. Anna had already eaten, so it was just the two of us headed to the Smoke House. I admit to not being overly excited as finding something "healthy" to eat is no small task at this place with some of the best French fries in town!
If you've never been there, it's a treat. The smells of gyro meat on the spit. The sound of metal utensils clanking on the stainless steel counters. Your eyes are bombarded with color and activity.
All lit up and packed with moms and kids, the place was loud and crazy tonight. As we entered people who appeared to be in line kept telling us they were just waiting for their food, so we moved to the front and eventually placed our order. Eric: two hot dogs, Chicago-style and fries with a water. Me: a Greek salad with gyro meat and a water. As we waited, we chatted a bit and mostly, because we are both absolutely exhausted, just watched the guys doing their thing behind the counter. It was somehow relaxing to watch their fluid, confident movements, as they went about the task of taking the burden of cooking dinner for so many of us on themselves. At one point, the man slicing the gyro meat used his tongs to take the remaining portion of meat on it's rotisserie stick out and carry it to the back. Quite an act of physics to carry that heavy piece of metal with some meat still on it somewhere in the back of the building. We both considered the thought of him using those same tongs to carry out a full skewer of meat and decided that would be beyond the rules of physics!
Eventually we received our food and attempted to navigate our way back to a table. The front of the restaurant was crawling with people under three feet. I was certain we would spill our entire trays all over them before we reached our destination. We managed to weave our through the maze of children and found a table. I still needed silverware and we both needed napkins, so Eric gallantly made the journey through the quickly moving children to retrieve the items we needed.
After a prayer of thanksgiving for all of God's generosity to us, we dove into our meals. Honestly, I'm not even sure what we talked about. There was so much chaos around us. Babies crying. A child squeezing ketchup onto the table. A family of five enjoying their meals and having a nice conversation. Children kicking the booth behind us so we felt the random bang on our own side of the booth in intermittent intervals. Moms getting up and down out of the same booth to chase after children. And the inevitable jostle we would experience every time they did. The mom who said her son's name in that "stop what you're doing" voice. To which the other young boy said, "I started it!" I laughed out loud as he protected his friend with those bold and confident words. It was just precious.
We finished our meal, and I'm pretty sure we had some conversation. But what was most interesting was that once we finished, neither of us hurried to leave. We probably sat there for another 10 minutes. The banging on the booth continued. The boys wrestling in the middle of the aisle as other diners tried to pass them escalated. And we just sat there. Riveted by the activity and almost hypnotized by the show we were experiencing.
We left not feeling overwhelmed by our days as we had when we entered. We left with a weird sense of calm. Maybe it was just relief. Relief that our own children, who are now 19 and 16, don't wrestle in the aisles anymore. Nor do they get in people's way who are carrying trays of food. Nope. Maybe our kids aren't really kids anymore at all.
All lit up and packed with moms and kids, the place was loud and crazy tonight. As we entered people who appeared to be in line kept telling us they were just waiting for their food, so we moved to the front and eventually placed our order. Eric: two hot dogs, Chicago-style and fries with a water. Me: a Greek salad with gyro meat and a water. As we waited, we chatted a bit and mostly, because we are both absolutely exhausted, just watched the guys doing their thing behind the counter. It was somehow relaxing to watch their fluid, confident movements, as they went about the task of taking the burden of cooking dinner for so many of us on themselves. At one point, the man slicing the gyro meat used his tongs to take the remaining portion of meat on it's rotisserie stick out and carry it to the back. Quite an act of physics to carry that heavy piece of metal with some meat still on it somewhere in the back of the building. We both considered the thought of him using those same tongs to carry out a full skewer of meat and decided that would be beyond the rules of physics!
Eventually we received our food and attempted to navigate our way back to a table. The front of the restaurant was crawling with people under three feet. I was certain we would spill our entire trays all over them before we reached our destination. We managed to weave our through the maze of children and found a table. I still needed silverware and we both needed napkins, so Eric gallantly made the journey through the quickly moving children to retrieve the items we needed.
After a prayer of thanksgiving for all of God's generosity to us, we dove into our meals. Honestly, I'm not even sure what we talked about. There was so much chaos around us. Babies crying. A child squeezing ketchup onto the table. A family of five enjoying their meals and having a nice conversation. Children kicking the booth behind us so we felt the random bang on our own side of the booth in intermittent intervals. Moms getting up and down out of the same booth to chase after children. And the inevitable jostle we would experience every time they did. The mom who said her son's name in that "stop what you're doing" voice. To which the other young boy said, "I started it!" I laughed out loud as he protected his friend with those bold and confident words. It was just precious.
We finished our meal, and I'm pretty sure we had some conversation. But what was most interesting was that once we finished, neither of us hurried to leave. We probably sat there for another 10 minutes. The banging on the booth continued. The boys wrestling in the middle of the aisle as other diners tried to pass them escalated. And we just sat there. Riveted by the activity and almost hypnotized by the show we were experiencing.
We left not feeling overwhelmed by our days as we had when we entered. We left with a weird sense of calm. Maybe it was just relief. Relief that our own children, who are now 19 and 16, don't wrestle in the aisles anymore. Nor do they get in people's way who are carrying trays of food. Nope. Maybe our kids aren't really kids anymore at all.
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
Dinner with the Boys...
The question had been posed ten minutes before we had to head off to class...tell me your story. How did you meet? And how did you both come to know Christ? Needless to say, there just wasn't time to do those questions justice in the noise of Saga. So I proposed a dinner. At our house. With the boys and my husband and I.
So last Saturday night, after we had gotten our 16-year old off to her second homecoming dance, we came home to do the cooking. That is, Eric went and laid down for a quick nap and I cooked. I had done the grocery shopping the night before and that morning, so I had all the ingredients for the menu: a variety of chicken sausages, seasoned smashed fingerling potatoes, roasted Brussels sprouts with walnuts, and sauteed peppers and onions. Anna had made another batch of Green Goddess, so upon their arrival, the older boy went straight for that bowl! It's a staple in our house and always brings a smile to the faces of our guests. Our family joke is that everything is better with Green Goddess!
As I gathered our dinner together, we all visited around the island in our kitchen. It's really the greatest place in our house. We have had students tell us it is one of their very favorite places on the planet. To sit at our island while I cook or clean dishes and just have good, honest, open conversation. What would this night look like? What would our conversation include? Would we ever answer the questions the younger man posed at an earlier dinner?
We gathered in a circle at the end of the island to pray. I led the prayer - a little strange because I was the only woman - but Eric was a bit drained so I took the lead. And the truth is, I was the one who wanted this evening to happen. Eric and I have both been exhausted. Between work, my class, and the demands of our ministry, we just haven't had much time to relax. And our bodies are feeling it. I can push things pretty hard for a while and be okay. But Eric really needs his sleep. As an intellection he needs time alone to recharge. Time with nothing to do but just be. And we just haven't had much of that lately.
You see, we have been overwhelmed by students with troubles. From girlfriend issues to one girl we suspect has been cutting to another young man struggling with pornography to a freshman girl whose dad is struggling with Stage 4 cancer, the stuff we are seeing in students this year is like nothing we have ever seen before. And satan is at work. Our old car needed a lot of work just to be safe for our daughter to drive it. The air conditioning in our house broke. The other car needs an oil change and I just don't have the time to do that and all of the other errands that need to be handled, and so the burden is falling on Eric. And he's the one with the real job. It's just a lot.
That is all to say, he was tired on this Saturday night when we were having guests. I had hoped it would be a casual, carefree evening. Just some good food and some good conversation. Relaxing.
And for the most part, that's just what it was. As we sat down to eat dinner, I shared that the younger man had asked to hear our story. How we had met. How we had come to know Jesus. And so I began to tell the story. The story of our meeting in a bar, kissing the very first night we met, how our long-distance relationship progressed. The boys asked questions. Our lifestyle, the choices we made as people who were not really following Christ were intriguing to them. So as we sat in our comfy chairs around our dining room table with the table full of empty dishes, we shared the good and the bad of our early choices and where it brought us today. It wasn't an easy discussion to have and left both Eric and I feeling pretty vulnerable, but comfortable in that place.
As dinner wound down, the older boy got up and cleaned some of the dishes, putting them in the dishwasher. As he did so, I asked him if he had someplace to be. I thought he said yes, and from then on I was aware that he needed to leave. Turns out, he hadn't even heard my question and just said yes. Once we figured that out, my dismay abated and we moved on to the living room and we continued our story. My husband is so cute, he loves to tell every detail of his stories. I'm much more concerned about boring people, so I tend to leave out a lot of details and focus on the high points. Not Eric. He is very thorough. I think it's the Learner in him that likes to learn so much he assumes everyone else will too! I'm grateful to understand Strengths and appreciate the way God made my husband!
As we continued, we shared how the Lord seemed to grab each of us. To be there just when we needed Him most. He made His pursuit of us a full-court press and eventually we both accepted His advances and fell deeply in love with Jesus. For me it was about 14 years ago, right after my second miscarriage. This was news to the boys, who had asked if we had wanted more children. For Eric it was about 11 years ago, on the road to Bucyrus, a small town in Ohio. The boys listened intently as we shared the ways God had made his presence known to us.
We shared our church history and of course, the older boy had questions about our girls being baptized Lutheran. With so many opinions about which denominations have the right doctrine and which don't, it was funny to have them wrestle with the notion that this couple they think are pretty cool could have come from such a suspect religious background!
As my husband and I sat on one couch, with his head in my lap as I ran my fingers through his hair, the boys sat on the opposite couch, with their legs touching, and began to tell us the story of how they met. It was precious to hear how God brought them together through a random Skype call with the younger boy's mom who invited them both to their family home over Spring break. It was during that trip that their affection for each other grew as they read the book of Galatians and recovered from some really deep hurts.
It's interesting to me that they like spending a Saturday night hanging out with us. I so appreciate their company, the ways they teach us, and the chance to pour into their lives. They really are curious and seem genuinely interested, especially the younger boy. The older one has known us longer and much more intimately, and knows bits and pieces about us already. I'm also not sure he's as naturally curious as the younger man.
Eventually, Eric got up and as he usually does, he kissed me and went up to bed. The older boy has gotten used to his sudden and sometimes unannounced departures so he didn't really blink an eye. And then the conversation turned once again to the topic we have covered over and over since the beginning of summer: predestination, election, or whatever other name you call it. As always there was contention. There was lots of discussion. There was a lot of agreement.
One side quoting a lot of scripture. Even accusing the other of not believing the Bible because of the numerous references to "the elect" and "predestination" that in his mind make it all so clear. The other trying to reconcile the character of a loving God with One who would choose to send some of his creatures to eternal damnation. And one person just trying to mediate the conversation and ensure everyone feels honored and heard. And so the debate continues. A recurring theme for the ages.
It was a typical night at the Pierces. Lots of food. Good conversation. And a good old fashioned debate on a Biblical issue. I wouldn't have it any other way!
So last Saturday night, after we had gotten our 16-year old off to her second homecoming dance, we came home to do the cooking. That is, Eric went and laid down for a quick nap and I cooked. I had done the grocery shopping the night before and that morning, so I had all the ingredients for the menu: a variety of chicken sausages, seasoned smashed fingerling potatoes, roasted Brussels sprouts with walnuts, and sauteed peppers and onions. Anna had made another batch of Green Goddess, so upon their arrival, the older boy went straight for that bowl! It's a staple in our house and always brings a smile to the faces of our guests. Our family joke is that everything is better with Green Goddess!
As I gathered our dinner together, we all visited around the island in our kitchen. It's really the greatest place in our house. We have had students tell us it is one of their very favorite places on the planet. To sit at our island while I cook or clean dishes and just have good, honest, open conversation. What would this night look like? What would our conversation include? Would we ever answer the questions the younger man posed at an earlier dinner?
We gathered in a circle at the end of the island to pray. I led the prayer - a little strange because I was the only woman - but Eric was a bit drained so I took the lead. And the truth is, I was the one who wanted this evening to happen. Eric and I have both been exhausted. Between work, my class, and the demands of our ministry, we just haven't had much time to relax. And our bodies are feeling it. I can push things pretty hard for a while and be okay. But Eric really needs his sleep. As an intellection he needs time alone to recharge. Time with nothing to do but just be. And we just haven't had much of that lately.
You see, we have been overwhelmed by students with troubles. From girlfriend issues to one girl we suspect has been cutting to another young man struggling with pornography to a freshman girl whose dad is struggling with Stage 4 cancer, the stuff we are seeing in students this year is like nothing we have ever seen before. And satan is at work. Our old car needed a lot of work just to be safe for our daughter to drive it. The air conditioning in our house broke. The other car needs an oil change and I just don't have the time to do that and all of the other errands that need to be handled, and so the burden is falling on Eric. And he's the one with the real job. It's just a lot.
That is all to say, he was tired on this Saturday night when we were having guests. I had hoped it would be a casual, carefree evening. Just some good food and some good conversation. Relaxing.
And for the most part, that's just what it was. As we sat down to eat dinner, I shared that the younger man had asked to hear our story. How we had met. How we had come to know Jesus. And so I began to tell the story. The story of our meeting in a bar, kissing the very first night we met, how our long-distance relationship progressed. The boys asked questions. Our lifestyle, the choices we made as people who were not really following Christ were intriguing to them. So as we sat in our comfy chairs around our dining room table with the table full of empty dishes, we shared the good and the bad of our early choices and where it brought us today. It wasn't an easy discussion to have and left both Eric and I feeling pretty vulnerable, but comfortable in that place.
As dinner wound down, the older boy got up and cleaned some of the dishes, putting them in the dishwasher. As he did so, I asked him if he had someplace to be. I thought he said yes, and from then on I was aware that he needed to leave. Turns out, he hadn't even heard my question and just said yes. Once we figured that out, my dismay abated and we moved on to the living room and we continued our story. My husband is so cute, he loves to tell every detail of his stories. I'm much more concerned about boring people, so I tend to leave out a lot of details and focus on the high points. Not Eric. He is very thorough. I think it's the Learner in him that likes to learn so much he assumes everyone else will too! I'm grateful to understand Strengths and appreciate the way God made my husband!
As we continued, we shared how the Lord seemed to grab each of us. To be there just when we needed Him most. He made His pursuit of us a full-court press and eventually we both accepted His advances and fell deeply in love with Jesus. For me it was about 14 years ago, right after my second miscarriage. This was news to the boys, who had asked if we had wanted more children. For Eric it was about 11 years ago, on the road to Bucyrus, a small town in Ohio. The boys listened intently as we shared the ways God had made his presence known to us.
We shared our church history and of course, the older boy had questions about our girls being baptized Lutheran. With so many opinions about which denominations have the right doctrine and which don't, it was funny to have them wrestle with the notion that this couple they think are pretty cool could have come from such a suspect religious background!
As my husband and I sat on one couch, with his head in my lap as I ran my fingers through his hair, the boys sat on the opposite couch, with their legs touching, and began to tell us the story of how they met. It was precious to hear how God brought them together through a random Skype call with the younger boy's mom who invited them both to their family home over Spring break. It was during that trip that their affection for each other grew as they read the book of Galatians and recovered from some really deep hurts.
It's interesting to me that they like spending a Saturday night hanging out with us. I so appreciate their company, the ways they teach us, and the chance to pour into their lives. They really are curious and seem genuinely interested, especially the younger boy. The older one has known us longer and much more intimately, and knows bits and pieces about us already. I'm also not sure he's as naturally curious as the younger man.
Eventually, Eric got up and as he usually does, he kissed me and went up to bed. The older boy has gotten used to his sudden and sometimes unannounced departures so he didn't really blink an eye. And then the conversation turned once again to the topic we have covered over and over since the beginning of summer: predestination, election, or whatever other name you call it. As always there was contention. There was lots of discussion. There was a lot of agreement.
One side quoting a lot of scripture. Even accusing the other of not believing the Bible because of the numerous references to "the elect" and "predestination" that in his mind make it all so clear. The other trying to reconcile the character of a loving God with One who would choose to send some of his creatures to eternal damnation. And one person just trying to mediate the conversation and ensure everyone feels honored and heard. And so the debate continues. A recurring theme for the ages.
It was a typical night at the Pierces. Lots of food. Good conversation. And a good old fashioned debate on a Biblical issue. I wouldn't have it any other way!
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