I was going to blog on facebook. I started to. I said, "I am blogging here because I might ask for advice. I
might." Then I chickened out. I don't want to be that clear yet. I'm not that clear. I want to ramble, and explore, and not explain. So I'm back here.
"From beneath the clutter of our lives, O God, we call out to you.
It is not that we have chosen evil, but that we have pursued lesser gods until we have lost our way.
Our love has become too narrow, our excuses too wide. Our blaming has become too quick, our forgiveness too slow.
By your mercy, deepen our pride into compassion, our fear into courage. Change our frustration into creativity, our timidity into boldness.
Transform our prayers into actions for compassion and justice however small and simple they might be.
In spite of our weakness, make us strong, O God, as we work to uncover your heaven here on earth. Amen."
"Beneath the clutter of our lives" We are looking for a church. We don't want to. We love our church. But we need to be closer. And so we've looked, not daring to expect, barely ever hoping . . . And now we're here. We walked out of a church Sunday morning. It "failed" in the first fifteen minutes. I dare say, it was even before that. But can a church "fail"?? Who am I to set up criteria? And why did we feel so at ease twenty minutes later?
"Whenever we are insecure in our faith, whenever we fall into spiritual neglect or disrepair, God reaches out to steady us and to embrace us with a sure and complete forgiveness. All thanks and glory to God!"
Pure doctrine is most important to us, top of the list. Second to that, we desire a church that mirrors our thoughts on children. My child is not an accessory. She is a person, and in church, she is a fellow worshipper. I want her to be seen by our church as a smaller, more easily offended or distracted yet often purer, learning worshipper. When I come to church, I know that she is my child, but I want to be reminded that she is first my sister in Christ. Thirdly, I want my church to be a place where I am real. All week I am strong, when I lift my hands in church on Sunday, I need to be weak. When I bow my head, I need to be naked and safe. Fourth, we believe that perhaps a more high church atmosphere would fit our family better at this point in our lives. We are open to more litergy, and definitely less Awana.
"We gather for worship with faces deep-scored with years or smooth with youth.
We gather with faces animated by our feelings or covered by the masks we wear
Whether our faces are expectant or wary, intent or inquisitive, in worship all faces turn toward the face of God."
But how far can I go outside my comfort zone? What is comfort zone and what is purity of doctrine? Is who we include and who we exclude ever a tenant of our faith? Is that doctrine? What about when that person stands before me as a minister of God's Word? What now? What if that person doesn't look like me? Or what if she does look like me? What then?
Tears on both of our cheeks, and yet I'm scared. How far have we gone away from eveything we've known?
"Holy One, whose heart abounds with gifts, receive this offering as a sign of our intention to live surrounded by your mercy, inspired by your Spirit, open to the joy of your presence, hospitable to one another, and generous toward your world. Amen."
What do you do when you have laid your heart bare before God and asked Him to lead you to Himself and you find yourself here? Do you wait, and listen? Do you turn and run? Do you accept the fact that it was your own folly that led you in the doors in the first place? Does a parent lead a child astray when all they ask for is their direction? How wide can I let go? If I lift my foot to take this step will I ever find ground again?
If this is where we are called, if this is who He is, I know we will be questioned by everyone who cares. So I'm writing now. I'm not confused. I'm like a small child walking for the first time into a large cathedral. It's bigger than I imagined and I wonder I will ever feel comfortable again. Perhaps this is a place to learn, perhaps this is a place to rest, perhaps this is home. I don't know.
I don't know if this is truth or error. Either, I believe, can be so dangerous.
"We gather for worship with hands strengthened by long use or altered by injury.
We gather with hands calloused from hard laobrs or hands softened with tenderness.
Whether our hands are stiff or supple, in worship all hands reach toward the hand of God.
We gather for worship just as we are.Whatever face we wear or hands we use, our faith comes alive in our turning and reaching for God. Amen."
