The Real Church

It seems that wherever I am, I keep hearing conversations, messages or dialogue that center around what the church was designed by God to be versus what it has been made into by man. Last week I listened to some teaching that the Greek word for church used in the New Testament was the word EKKLESIA – translated church, but more accurately translated congregation.

And there you have it. Somewhere along the way, we humans made church into a building or a series of rituals or any number of other things. But it appears that all along the church was supposed to be a who rather than a what.

That has been a progression for me as an individual, which is likely why it strikes such a chord. As a young Christian, it was much easier to put the “what” of church in a box. It could be put away Sunday afternoon and pulled out of its box on various weekdays to take part in my life as I desired. Something I did because I knew I should because it made my life better and something I could check off on a list.

But who changes everything. Congregations are people. And being part of a living, breathing organism must change who I am. It makes me accountable. It motivates me to grow and share and build. Memorial Park Church is that kind of church - people who make up the family of God with a common love for Jesus. Not a building or a place or even limited to people you see on Sunday morning but a living, changing, growing group of people bound by love and sharing it with everyone possible . I know it’s been said before but changes like this seem big and exciting and remind me that when our God moves in ways this big, grab hold of something because it’s going to be a wild ride. I simply cannot wait to see what is next for His People – His Church…….

Farewell, Gibson

Saturday we did the hardest thing we've ever had to do in our lives. We took Gibson in to the vet and didn't bring him home. I can't really write more of it yet but it was the right thing and the worst thing and both Bob and I hurt so much it feels like it won't ever heal. I keep praying that God takes away that image of her carrying away that lifeless body when moments before I was hugging that soft, snuggly, quivering creature who was counting on me to take care of him......

I know my God

God has been with us and answered my prayers over the last few days. Gibson is responding to the medication and we have enjoyed the last few days with him and hope to have some more to come. I don't know how many we'll get but God has answered that prayer too - I'm just taking things a day at a time. Enjoying hearing him continue to try and bark, relishing as he fusses over his guests, eats like a king, and taking in every snuggle.

At one point I was pretty devastated because even in my dog loving family, we believed God's silence on what happened to our pets meant that once they were gone, they were gone. That's no consolation to a childless couple whose only babies are their dependent pets. I was talking to my sister - the one I call when I need the truth delivered. Everyone must have an Emily - someone who gives it to you straight with no sugar. And I received a different message than I expected. And although I'm taking liberties, this is what she said:

"So you don't have any verses that are easy to cling to. There are a lot of specific things that the Bible is silent about. What you do now is look at the character of the God you know. That should be enough. He redeems His creation to Himself. And in fact and in practice, your dog is His creation, in so many ways designed carefully by Him and in this case, especially yours."

She's right. The book of Esther has no mention of the name of God, yet His handprint is all over ever word of the book in lives of those people. God's all over this too and although I don't know specifics, I know God loves His creation and the dying it experiences was brought about by sin that His creation didn't choose, all the more reason to believe in its perfect restoration.

A day at a time

I realized something about myself last night. My inability to live in the present really is crippling sometimes.

I suppose I've always known that I mull over the past and overplan the future. As a result, I spend a lot of time overthinking words I've said or situations in which I wished I'd done something different. Conversely, I spend just as much, if not more time worrying about the future. Really overridden with anxiety and dread sometimes. Like now.

While Bob - a very "in the moment" sort of guy - spends the time we have left with Gibson enjoying him, I could very well waste the time sobbing over what I'm going to do without him.

But then, isn't that how God must see my every days? He wants me to live with his daily manna. I know He's going to give me enough to get me through. Enough to have joy in a moment. Enough to have some of the most memorable times with my dog even now while he's sick.

For people who don't have dogs and don't get dog lovers, this parallel with my relationship to God may seem trite. But I believe with all my heart that He put Gibson in my life to not only teach me patience and kindness but to model the kind of unconditional love that He offers us. It really never matters how selfish I am - Gibson loves me anyway. It never matters that I've got no time for him and that he is on my last nerve - he loves me just the same. And sought me out to love me just the same the same as if I opened my arms.

Jesus didn't spend his 33 years of life mourning his eventual death. He lived and lived so fully that it serves as a template to all of us. A life full of joy and meaning. I need to live that way right now and it's going to take some work. I could pray that Gibson will be healed but that doesn't seem likely and I can't know if that's God's will for us. But I can pray with full confidence, knowing that He will answer, for the peace that comes with His sufficiency to meet the need of my day each morning. With joy and peace and love. I know He wants that. He wants that for me now when it's hard and He wants that for me for always.

Gibson

When I first began blogging, it was in memorial to my grandmother, the summer before she passed away. The reactivation of the blog seemed this time to not be connected to sadness and death.

But yesterday morning I took my beagle Gibson to the vet because while still energetic as a goofball, had been laboring in his breath since Friday night. The news was not good. All indications point to lung cancer and the prognosis is bleak - they hope he'll make it to Christmas. Seems crazy and unfair and just horribly sad.

Yesterday was relatively terrible. Not for him. He's still bopping around because he can't understand vet language. I'm sure he doesn't get while I'm crying all the time either. I called my pet loving family on both sides and they were devastated too.

You see, Gibson was the first real commitment for Bob and I. 13 years ago we got engaged in September and in March we picked up a new 6 week old puppy that never made it back home. We picked him out when he was still very tiny and allowed to stay inside but he was the offspring of two hunting dogs (Hook and Juliette) and was sent back to living in a run with a little warming room. It was winter and so cold and at least one puppy had died already when it wandered out into the run. So we got our vet's okay to keep him and he never lived outside again. He's come a long way since then sleeping on a memory foam mattress between the two of us for the last near 13 years...... :)

Bob wasn't a dog person. His sister had a beagle when she lived at home but they hadn't grown up with dogs. So I don't think he realized when I asked him to come with me to see them after they were born that there was no way we'd come home without picking one out. He was hooked by that furry little poofball from the very beginning. We picked him because he was the most uniquely marked of all them - all dark on his back. His name was Dagny (girl dog name) from that time until we took him to the vet and Dr. Childress told us she was a he :).

So I guess for a time, I'll record some of these stories of the life and time of the very best friend a couple could ever have. I can promise you that as I write these, I will be sad and probably sobbing but writing them is my way of celebrating his life.

Unreasonable

This week I read a review of Matthew 10:8b "freely you received, freely give" that noted that the word for freely is also translated unreasonably. Unreasonable service. Interesting.

For so much of my early adult life, I didn't get service. I knew I should want to serve out of my love for Jesus but that wasn't where my desire to participate in service projects came from. I thought it would be fun and personally fullfilling and deep down, I knew I'd feel pretty good when I saw how others viewed me.

As my relationship with Christ has grown, serving has certainly felt different. My desire to serve comes from a near urgency to share the overflow in my heart of what God has given me. It is amazing how God has changed my motivations and yet far exceeds the benefits I youthfully and naively calculated.

As we enter a universal season of giving, as Christians, we are challenged to make the giving different. Unreasonable service and giving motivated by an unreasonable grace from our Father. May this be the message we deliver.

Challenging my faith

I have an old friend that has been testing the waters of faith for several months now. She lives in Texas and our contact has mostly been through a social networking site but several nights ago, I took the leap and asked her outright where she was in her faith and with God. She shared her story and in turn, I shared mine. I was so excited.

Then I did a little research into a book she had connected with. I had intended to read it so we could have a dialogue and the more I read about the book, the more my heart sunk. I noticed a feeling like panic and I began to struggle with the idea of reading the book. So I prayed about it and talked to a few friends. I looked deep inside to find out why the idea of reading it was bothering me. And the answers weren't pretty. I know I have a non-negotiable belief in the God-breathed Scriptures but I think deep down, I'm scared of reading something challenging that makes sense. I'm afraid of my own gullibility. But even more, I am underestimating the power of the Holy Spirit to give me discernment. In this case, I am pleading with Jesus as that father of the sick child did - "I believe! Please help my unbelief!" I still don't know if I'll read the book so I'll keep parying for surety of faith and confidence in God and wisdom. I KNOW that He is sufficient for every need.

And I'm back!

Well, in May I decided I couldn't keep up with the blog and that it was doing more to distract than help. Surprise! God has brought me back here. And so much has happened in the last few months.

We have returned to Iron City Church. The old pastor has departed to build another church and a new pastor arrived. In September, much to our sadness, Memorial Park terminated their Sunday 10:15am Contemporary service. This left us looking for a church again. So we headed back one week to hear our two friends preach one week. From then on it was clear that God wanted us back at ICC with a new pastor that has a completely pure vision for ICC - one that is following in the direction of God - not of men. Although it has still been tough as some wounds have only surface healing.

Fortunately, God has also been hard at work to keep us connected with Memorial Park. One connection that has remained is what prompted my reopening of the blog - the Noble Mind Community. It is the online community for MPC and the coordinator has asked me to be a regular contributor. It is very exciting and probably more intimidating than it should be. This blog should help me to sort out some of the thoughts coursing through my scattered brain so I can send them a few posts each week. Please pray that I'll let it be exactly what God has planned for it.

Goodbye Blog

After much thought and some prayer on this, I've decided to stop blogging. When I started it, I was very enthusiastic. I have always loved to write and to create an online journal made sense. However there is one piece of this that never worked - other people reading it. Don't get me wrong - I liked that and found it exciting and there is even a person I would never have met any other way. But it put limits on my writing that cramped this as a real outlet for my journalling. I am the first one to admit that I don't mind being fussed over and paid attention - not sure that's a good thing. I want people to like me. And unfortunately, this is a part of my life that I think is better to remain personal so my pride doesn't get out of whack. I've found myself returning to my hand written journal recently because my computer is better left to work related things. If I use the computer to journal the line gets pretty blurred. Simplicity - a spiritual discipline that I'm rather bad at. I will continue to read the blogs of others and maybe will someday return to it..... but at the moment this is an end to an era. I was also a little uneasy about losing track of all the writing I had done with it. Perhaps that is the old fashioned part of me that feels that if I can't touch it, it isn't real. SO!!! I've printed off my 100+ pages of blogged material to file away with the rest of my journalling volumes. Goodbye bloggy friends as a writer. This has been fun but it's back to basics for me.

Funny nostalgia.....

I was just thinking....Years and years ago when I was dating I had the hardest time. Bad things would happen in my relationships: deception, serial cheating, realizing the guy had no moral compass, "I just don't love you", etc., etc., etc. Ugly. And as smart as I claimed to be in other areas, I was like a dog with a rotten bone. I could never let go. I was thinking (while cutting the grass ;) that I so much wanted to do the smart thing but this part of me just couldn't let it go. I wanted to keep at it - keep trying. I hated it about myself and alternately talked about it like I was proud of it because I could never really figure that part of me out. I stuck around for stuff I should NEVER have put up with. And while I WOULD NOT recommend it and hope desperately that my nieces have a much greater sense of themselves in Christ, something occurred to me. But for all that stubborness and belief that things would get better if we tried harder, Bob and I would never have made it through the bad stuff. The exact thing that I look back with distaste on is the very preservative that God gave me to hang in there when things went south of ugly in my marriage. God is so very good.