Wondering, Wandering, and Writing

            The terrible, awful, rotten, no good, I-never-want-to-do-this-again! church service happened right here on June 16, 2019. 

            Yes, I will get to today’s theme, but it will take a few minutes.

            In late May, 2019, I decided it was time to drive less than 30 minutes (and past a dozen churches) to go to church.  So, I came up with a list of 5 or 6 churches to visit and see how they felt.  Lucas and Welcome are the closest; that narrowed down the choices for the first visit.  I started with Lucas.

            I had attended Bible studies led by Connie Post.  The boys had attended VBS and Easter Egg hunts here.  I let Connie know we were coming because she knew our story and that it could be an emotional day.  1 – Visting to find a new home church. 2- My daddy had died a few years before and it was Father’s Day.  3 – Our son, the boys’ daddy, had died the previous October. Still, I was under-prepared for the emotional roller-coaster ride.

            At 11am, we sat near the back of the church as the service started. 

            By 11:20, my wiggle worms were really wiggly.  But – children’s church should start soon.

            At 11:30, the boys were moving the entire length of the pew and crawling under the pew.  I gave up trying to get anything out of the service.  I prayed others could ignore the disruptions.

            11:35 I was so embarrassed I was ready for Scottie to beam us to another planet. Through gritted teeth I told the boys if they moved one more time we were leaving.

            Before 11:40 we were headed out the door to wails of, “Please let us stay,” “But we’ll be good, I promise,” and “Don’t make us go!”

In the parking lot, I texted Connie, “Obviously there has been some miscommunication and there is NO children’s church.  I can’t do this.”     

She quickly replied, “This is the last song before Children’s church.  We’re going to my backyard.  Bring the boys.”

I left the boys with her and drove to McDonald’s for iced tea.  I was so thankful for her compassion.  I was so embarrassed I wanted to face no one else.  When your child’s different abilities cannot be quickly discerned because of physical appearance, the general assumption is that you are a bad parent.  I know better, but that morning I felt every sideways glance and imagined more.  I felt completely inept.  I should probably throw in the towel and drive off, alone, into the sunset.

Instead, just after noon I picked up the boys.  Of course I saw people in the parking lot.  And bless your hearts – sincerely! – you spoke to me.  I’m sorry I don’t remember who it was.  Two women (at least) made time to apologize for the longer than usual time before children’s church and to ask me to please give the church another chance.  Others reached out through facebook and texts.    To have a morning go so terribly wrong and still feel compassion and acceptance – THAT is the power of the resurrection.  That is the Holy Spirit working through a family of believers – working to counsel, encourage, and generally minister to a hurting family.

            We all like big things: big events, large crowds at church, lots of decisions, a hundred likes on social media.  However, the power of the Spirit shows up every day in small ways that can make a huge difference to an individual.  The power of the resurrection enables a believer to send a text, make a call, sit quietly (or not so quietly) over coffee, watch children, deliver a meal, read a story, sing a song, contribute toward a mission trip, pray daily for our leaders, attend a memorial service, clean up messes, teach a class, decorate, and a hundred other things.

            Please do not undervalue the power of the Holy Spirit – the power of the resurrection – in the little everyday things you do.  You just may be the Balm of Gilead to a hurting soul.

(This was originally presented Sunday, March 31, 2024 at Lucas Avenue Baptist Church as one of five testimonies about The Power of the Resurrection in Our Lives.)

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