Well it's Monday and I am again having reflective moments about worship yesterday morning. I love that when you know you've experienced God truly and purely and leftovers remain on Monday morning and hopefully far longer than that. I'm so mesmerized by this little group of people that are meeting in this rundown warehouse building and feeding homeless people and giving them clothes before worship on Sunday mornings. Then again maybe it's not the people I'm mesmerized with. Maybe it's their "religion" expressing itself in ways I think would absolutely make God smile. Better than that maybe it's that I don't sense "religion" there I sense the presence of God.
I cried my way through the service yesterday in this little place that looks like a coffee shop as I heard truth about it being a wake up time for the church. That the church was created to be radical. (Does that freak you out a little bit...I think it's okay to be freaked out by the call of Jesus on our lives sometimes) That it's time for repentance and time for us to be set apart and act like it. Then there was this beautiful time of calling the prodigals to come home. I watched two young gals move up to the front of this building with tears streaming down their faces running into God's wide open arms and I watched older gals come up and surround them, hold them and allow them to cry, who prayed into their ears. I saw the "church" be the church and when that happens something in my soul cries out loudly YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!! It's like a moment when you want to take your shoes off because the ground for that instant is holy. Not the building, not those specific people, not the atmosphere, while those all play a part but it's that annointed moment where God shows up and takes over that creates a holy spot.
Felt this gentle hand on my back somewhere in the middle of all of that where God and I were having a "moment" and it was this older lady who had stood behind me the entire service and watched me wipe away tears every 5 seconds, I could not get it together. Anyway, she placed her hand on my back and I turned to her and she said in the most tenderhearted voice, "I need to hold you." Chances are good this sweet lady, I don't even know her name, had never met her before, and may never see again, will not know what that one short statement and the prayer in my ear that followed it meant to my heart but I have no doubt in my mind she was there to be Jesus' arms for this life. I felt Him there and I couldn't help but weep for all the times we do this "church" stuff so incredibly wrong. I felt myself apologizing to Him for being content with only a small part of what He had planned for the church. For all the times we walk through the doors and leave unchanged, for all the times we watch someone weep and take no responsibility and feel no burden for their pain, for all of the times we wonder what the prodigal has done instead of being ecstatic that they've come home, for all of those times we have played church dead on the inside of our hearts. Couldn't help but weep for our great big church buildings that sometimes do absolutely nothing to make a recovering drug addict, or an alcoholic, or a prostitute who's begging for love, or any of the other "outcasts" of our day feel welcome. You don't have to go to New York City to find those people and I wonder when the last time was that any of "those people" walked through our doors. As I walked up to the door of the building yesterday morning I met a man in grungy clothes who smelled unlike cologne, who looked rough to say the least, and this is what I heard him say as I said good morning..."Are you coming inside with us? You gonna be in here with us? You better get in here you're gonna be late." I got to respond to this man, yep I'm going in here with you, let's go. I got to walk through that door with a guy who by all appearances looked nothing like "church folk" and I can not tell you how good that felt. We entered in TOGETHER.
I have no doubt some of this is uncomfortable for some of you reading, and I'll be perfectly honest at moments it's uncomfortable in my heart. You might think I've lost my mind and perhaps I have. Haven't lost it, I've certainly given it away. It's been taken captive, and somewhere in the process of Christ taking it captive I feel Him urging me deeper to know Him more. In light of that I feel Him urging me to listen to Him above all else, to feel with His heart, to love with His hands, to look with His eyes. I feel myself wanting more than some fluffy easy light "church service" with people I love. Please don't get me wrong, I love the church where I attend and I am surrounded by people there that I adore. I'm just not sure that loving that place and loving those people is all God called us to. If I'm not being His hands and feet to the unhealthy hurting broken people in this world, right here in Parkersburg, I don't want to look him in the eyes and apologize anymore for sitting behind those doors with people who look and act and think like me. I'm not sure He believes that's good enough from everything I read.
I don't know what that means for me and I have no idea what that means for you. Perhaps nothing. I suppose you're reading raw thoughts after some moments with God yesterday that left me emotional and burdened. I don't know how to articulate all of that real well and you might have just read rambled thoughts that hit no one's heart but mine and that's ok. Sometimes I write these so I don't forget what God is doing through the journey. I don't ever want to forget how faithful He is to my life. This is another one of those times.
Be bold and live with a reckless abandonment for Him...whatever He shows that to mean for your life!
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