It's Sunday morning and I tell my husband, "today we will go to church." I have clean pants to wear and I'm not exhausted and we are in town, my excuses are non-existent. I'm sure I could make one up, like, I have a headache, but I don't. I heed the pricking of my conscience. My DNA is calling me to a house of worship. I say to my husband, "let's go to church." So we go.
This Sunday morning brings two opportunities to me. I ask myself, "shall I turn and leave these behind or shall I take the risk?" The first opportunity is to listen to the older gentleman beginning the sermon with his corny joke of a boy and and man in a car. (substitute redneck for boy and rich man for man. please enjoy.) I decide to listen to what this man of God has to say, instead of playing Angry Birds on my phone. He talks of how there are men and women of God in the Bible, and we don't know their names. There are people touching our lives and making a difference, and we don't know their names. It's not ME making the difference in someone's life, however large or small, it is God through me. I have to allow God to do the work through me. I have to get over my name. I have to get over me. It's not me. It's God.
The second opportunity brought before me came in the form of an old friend. Cathy was my first friend when moving to this county and finding this church. Many years ago. She was an experienced mom. She was gregarious. She hosted a Bible study in her home and invited me to come. She helped me to feel "at home" in this county that was so different (read rural) than ANYWHERE I had ever lived. She helped it seem like a place on earth instead of outer-space. I saw her. I had read she was still hosting a small group (read Bible study) in her home. I wanted to ask her if I could come to it. I was afraid to ask. At first it didn't appear the opportunity would present itself. We talked of all things hurricane and broken houses and children grown up and time was slipping away. The talk was going on too long. I was afraid to ask in front of strangers. But then it happened... the moment when I caught her eye. And I asked her to come aside. She said, "of course you can come." There was enthusiasm in her voice. But, she said, "It's mostly men. You and I may be the only women there. Would this be ok with you?" I smiled. I saw an opportunity to be away from the "church ladies" and maybe this was just what I needed.
I have already attended one gathering. I loved it.
This Sunday morning brings two opportunities to me. I ask myself, "shall I turn and leave these behind or shall I take the risk?" The first opportunity is to listen to the older gentleman beginning the sermon with his corny joke of a boy and and man in a car. (substitute redneck for boy and rich man for man. please enjoy.) I decide to listen to what this man of God has to say, instead of playing Angry Birds on my phone. He talks of how there are men and women of God in the Bible, and we don't know their names. There are people touching our lives and making a difference, and we don't know their names. It's not ME making the difference in someone's life, however large or small, it is God through me. I have to allow God to do the work through me. I have to get over my name. I have to get over me. It's not me. It's God.
The second opportunity brought before me came in the form of an old friend. Cathy was my first friend when moving to this county and finding this church. Many years ago. She was an experienced mom. She was gregarious. She hosted a Bible study in her home and invited me to come. She helped me to feel "at home" in this county that was so different (read rural) than ANYWHERE I had ever lived. She helped it seem like a place on earth instead of outer-space. I saw her. I had read she was still hosting a small group (read Bible study) in her home. I wanted to ask her if I could come to it. I was afraid to ask. At first it didn't appear the opportunity would present itself. We talked of all things hurricane and broken houses and children grown up and time was slipping away. The talk was going on too long. I was afraid to ask in front of strangers. But then it happened... the moment when I caught her eye. And I asked her to come aside. She said, "of course you can come." There was enthusiasm in her voice. But, she said, "It's mostly men. You and I may be the only women there. Would this be ok with you?" I smiled. I saw an opportunity to be away from the "church ladies" and maybe this was just what I needed.
I have already attended one gathering. I loved it.
I'm really excited about these things for you. I read your post about small group, yesterday, but something was going on with the girls (I don't remember what), and I didn't comment. Good stuff, Elaine!
ReplyDeleteSounds like an uplifting group!
ReplyDeletesmiles...is this the same group you wrote about the other day? very cool if it is...
ReplyDeleteI'm looking forward to getting to know them even better.
ReplyDeleteIt is good stuff. I'm glad it's happening to me. :)
ReplyDeleteIt is. :)
ReplyDeleteI love the power of that line, "My DNA is calling me to a house of worship" - because He made our DNA, He programmed it to hear that call - and, like your story tells, it is never an empty call!
ReplyDeleterejoicing your hearts cry is being met. nothing like a community of God-lovers to encourage, challenge and just have fun with. Blessings on this new journey.
ReplyDeleteLike I said in my previous post, my fingers are crossed. I hope I have found a good fit. I'm hopeful.
ReplyDeleteYep, he knows every bit of me and predestined me to belong to Him.
ReplyDeleteI love how you point out that God does the good work. It's so freeing! :)
ReplyDeleteso good, friend. i love the details, like clean pants and angry birds :)
ReplyDeleteI love that you weave your words from an honest place.
ReplyDelete