Looking up
Since I am at my internship site for worship on Sundays, I haven't been around my own church (NRUMC) very much. Paul and the kids are still involved--Samuel is in Wednesday night youth group; Faith and Emilee are in Sunday school; Paul is leading a Sunday morning Rob Bell series for youth; and they all try to make it to worship most Sundays.
Last week, I got missing (longing for) NRUMC. I had a lot going on in my life, and I just wanted to be around the people who have nurtured me--the people who make cookies for my kids, give me a National Geographic bag when I use a picture from the magazine in a sermon, write me notes of support, stand up for me in meetings, pick songs I like, ask my opinion on stuff that doesn't matter to me, randomly wonder about the Bible aloud in my presence, etc., etc., etc.
Mostly I just wanted someone to ask, "How's it going?" And for me to feel okay about telling them a short story about how it is really going. And I would know that they would pray for the stuff I had going on, without me asking for it and without them even saying they were going to do it. It might not be a pretty poetic prayer, but on their way out the door, they might offer something like, "God, please make it better." And they would ask God for that without wondering if God actually intervenes on stuff or not. They would ask because they believe in healing, even though they don't have it all worked out or don't even care if they have it all worked out.
I picked up Samuel from youth group last night. I arrived early, so I did something I used to do a lot. I laid behind the altar table on my back, breathing and thinking and looking up. It was good. And like I often do, when I popped up from behind the table, I scared someone who had come into the sanctuary after I went back there. I always get a kick out of that.
 |
| The view looking up. |
Mostly I just wanted someone to ask, "How's it going?" And for me to feel okay about telling them a short story about how it is really going. And I would know that they would pray for the stuff I had going on, without me asking for it and without them even saying they were going to do it. It might not be a pretty poetic prayer, but on their way out the door, they might offer something like, "God, please make it better." And they would ask God for that without wondering if God actually intervenes on stuff or not. They would ask because they believe in healing, even though they don't have it all worked out or don't even care if they have it all worked out.
I picked up Samuel from youth group last night. I arrived early, so I did something I used to do a lot. I laid behind the altar table on my back, breathing and thinking and looking up. It was good. And like I often do, when I popped up from behind the table, I scared someone who had come into the sanctuary after I went back there. I always get a kick out of that.
Comments
Post a Comment