My first Sunday I found myself trying not to focus on the pastor whom is originally from Canada, as I picked up on his accent and kept giggling as I said, "aboot" in my head. He told the story of his son. And any man telling a story of his little boy is always priceless- but adding the emotional element, I just sort of get carried away.
His son asked him "Dad, what would happen if I got lost in the forest?"
He explains, "I would come find you."
"Dad, what would you do if a bear captured me in the forest?"
He replies, "I would come find you."
"Dad, what if the bear ate me and I was a million pieces inside his belly?"
Still not understanding the origin of this interrogation he says, "I would go into the Bear's belly, and I would put you back together again."
"Dad. What if a man with a knife took me?"
"Well, I would find that man and I would take you back."
After concluding the sermon, reminding the congregational that God is God- and that we need to remember that while we have a heart seeking and chasing after Christ- that we are not Christ. We may have a likeness to His heart. And we may have desires that match his own...
We are not God. We must be obedient to his work in, through, and for us.
He explains, "At some point I will have to explain to my son that if he were lost in the woods, that I would try to find him- but that God knows where he is. And that if a bear had him in a million pieces in his belly, that I would try- but God knows where to find him and would put him back together again. And finally that, if a man had him with a knife- that God would find him- and God would have that man."
Tears chocked in his throat. I was captivated. We sang a song that I tried to scribble down the words too, but couldn't keep up. Thankfully the church blog has a set list with links to iTunes. I am grateful for this tool to keep connected in the week to the music perfectly themed to the message on Sunday.
The relationship I had with the pastor and his family in my last church experience was poignant and personal. I will always love the Daley family, and wish that we lived closer together then we do now. I have been so tenderly loved by them. They have encouraged me to sever unhealthy and hurtful ties with those that are unwise, unloving, and instead find my value and worth in Christ. They have celebrated with me milestones, and victories, and have consistently asked me (even recently) what they can do to impact the move, transition, family hurts, friendships that have come to a pass, and my search to create new community here. They are special, wonderfully supportive friends. Not to mention, the ways that I have grown simply based on the messages I have been able to hear from the pulpit.
I may have come into Winston-Salem skeptical that I would find something that I have loved as much as my experience at Tabernacle.
It is Monday night. And I have been thinking fairly nonstop about the message I heard while at church yesterday, my second visit to Salem Chapel. It's been a cycle that I can't stop, and I am not rushing it.
It's difficult when you are asked in a room full of strangers, "what is the nature of your heart? Is it hardened?".... that you feel like there could possibly be an arrow above your head- a spot light, and you think everyone is noticing you. Just you.
Truth is. I'm in a wonderfully open, and vulnerable space right now with myself, others, Christ, and the unknown. I am doing really well- and I'm truly happy.
But there are spaces and places in my heart that are just... tender. Tender and impressionable and somewhat calloused and angered. Sometimes anger is safe because it controls how open and vulnerable you have to be with someone else, yourself, and most especially God himself.
One place that I'm unable to understand is frustrated that you can delete a friendship on facebook, you can replace pictures framed on the wall, you can take songs off your iPod, and you can remove keys from chains... but there is a space. A place reserved. That is hurting. That is sometimes hard, that is sometimes bitter, that is sometimes angry... that is sometimes disappointed. What is funny about all of those things you can control, change, edit, and forget- is that Jesus lives. He is bigger, stronger, and He will get in your way about something until you can't ignore it. I have thought about this for 24 hours, nonstop. And right when I thought I had controlled the thoughts, even foolishly resolved them (albeit temporarily)... I sat at Starbucks in the mall near work and had my dinner while I scribbled away at postcards. The radio. Jesus in the radio. Began with Josh Groban, and ended with David Cook. I noted and reflected on my heart, which I had begun to recognize was so hurt, so angry, and so uninterested in letting those things go- the self righteousness and entitlement thick.
And I remembered the challenge posed yesterday. To pray. For those "enemies". I put that word in quotations because... the part of my heart not bitter, can't bear to think of this person and the word enemies in the same sentence. So I prayed. And ever so softly and slowly... a smile.
It was a victorious and hopeful moment.
For a moment, I knew that my keeping anger and hurt close, wasn't going to keep me safe.
I was so afraid of loosening my grip on that, because of what it would mean I was accepting. What I was going to desire. What was actually never going to change.
A smile. In the midst of all of those things that I still felt.
Meant that the one thing I was afraid of letting go, was robbing me of what I needed to come.
Less bitterness.
Less anger.
Less disappointment.
So that I could be grateful for a memory.
And not regret the whole of it.
Regret feels safe.
But that's a lie.
Salem Chapel. Is where I will be making my home. Because in 8 days time, I have been challenged to re-examine and rethink 2 months of hard, calloused, bruised, and broken pieces of my heart. I've been reminded that while if I get lost in the woods, and Mandy and Matt might search for me- that regardless, God knows where I am. I know that if a bear eats me and I'm in a million pieces in his belly- that my brother may capture that bear and want to put me together again- that he can't. But God can. I know that if a man takes me with a knife, that my dad can try and track down that man- but God has him, and has me. Quietly and perfectly tucked into the nature and heart of His perfect love and will.
And most miraculously, I was able to smile at Jesus in the Radio for a moment before sadness reminded me that it still lurks around the corner. In that one moment- I remembered what is most true, honest, and worthwhile is never what we hold onto thinking will bring us safety or comfort. It is always- having a heart of Christ... and wrapping that up tightly around our hearts so that we are less stubborn, and less hard. More soft.
That's just scary sometimes.
Yet. In the fear. The scary nature of unknown landscapes of our own hearts.
God is beautiful.
And making beautiful spaces out of the truly bruised, broken and hard parts of our hearts when we are able to pray. Even for. Those who have hurt us. Pray that they will know, see, feel, and be drawn to the beautiful nature of Christ. Because. That's important.
He is beautiful. He restores and redeems our filth, doubt, anger, and... reminds us that there is beauty. There is love. There is hope- in the sunrise, the moonlit night, on the tree where His love was given as a sacrifice... He is beautiful. He is making my heart more beautiful as I let go. Of those hard places and spaces.
A choice. Love is a choice. And loving where we have been unloved is a choice that God always makes. Making a choice to follow and love Jesus, means that today, and everyday- regardless of how difficult... I choose love. Even. When we don't think we can.
We can.
How amazingly different our relationships would be- if we remembered to stop explaining, justifying, or apologizing based on "how or who" we are- and instead remembered to choose better. To change to be better. To choose love. Each time.
Learning.
A lot.
Right now.
And below, is my current favorite song from church.
"I see your face in every sunrise
The colors of the morning are inside Your eyes
The world awakens to the light of the day,
I look up to the sky- and say,
You are beautiful.
I see your power in the moonlit night,
Where planets are in motion and galaxies are bright
We are amazed in the night of the stars
It's all proclaiming who you are,
You are beautiful.
I see you there hanging on a tree,
You bled and then you died and then you rose again for me,
Now you are sitting on your heavenly throne,
Soon we will be coming home,
You are beautiful.
When we arrive at eternity's shore,
Where death is just a memory and tears are no more,
We'll enter in as the wedding bells ring-
Your bride will come together and we'll sing,
You're beautiful."
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