I went today with my family to the church that my dad has been working in for the past 6 months. They heard him preach once and invited him to work there for a little while. The church is small - today I think there were 25-30 people there, including my family, which consisted of about a third of the congregation. Today was potluck-worship, or something like that, where they don't really have a particular schedule to follow...just kinda "go with the flow" idea. Some people gave testimonies, others asked for prayer, others chose a song for everyone to sing, (which everyone sang enthusiastically and totally off-key most of the time...great stuff). It also happened to be the last service my dad would be there for, so alot of people had something to say to the family. It was nice. I had a feeling of nostalgia the whole time, even though I've never been there before.
Chairs were placed in the middle of the room, around a microphone. On one side, a huge sofa sat in place of the chairs, with handwritten sign pinned on it, reading "Reserved for Ruth". She and her husband sat there...he's on chemo, so he gets sofa-privileges for a while. Kids sat on the floor playing with little toys from home or drawing, occasionally making enough noise to merit a squeeze on the shoulder from a nearby adult. The guy leading the service wore shorts with white socks almost up to his knees and dad-style sneakers - super geeky, but very at ease. One couple walked in late - he had a long beard and a mohawk style cut, though he hadn't spiked it this morning. They were all open with each other, chatting ocassionally, joking and laughing sometimes, really seeming to enjoy being there together.
The church felt alot like my church back home - a small handful of societies scraggly, unordinary, interesting people, with alot of love for each other. That's what struck me the most, I think, the love I mean. I wasn't there long before I sensed that this congregation knew each other, good, bad. Had been through alot together. Would stick their necks out for each other if it ever came to it. It felt like I was sitting in a family get-together. Or as my brother put it, a support group meeting. That's how it should be, don't you think?
Throughout the entire service, I held in the urge to cry. I'd forgotten how good it is to have that.
I'm going to bed.
8 years ago
2 comments:
that sounds really great. i like what you blog about.
hey can you email us your mailing address? we need to send you a thank you card. thosekids at gmail.
a thank you card? for what? :)
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