Finding Family- "Mom you love church, because you love Jesus!"- Audrey

Finding Family

“Mom you love church, because you love Jesus!” -Audrey

She is right I love church, the big C, and our little family called 2nd Street. I love church because Jesus is there and he is at work among us.  It has been one whole year since my family and I linked arms with those who call 2nd street their church home. We were in search of a place who loved children and saw them as a vital part of the body of Christ. We were in search of place where we could share daily life with those in our church.  We were in search of a place that listened to the people and valued all voices. We were in search of place that loved each other well. We found it with 2nd Street.

As I reflect back over the year I remember my very first day. I wasn’t even hired yet. However, I was going to training. We postponed a trip to Seattle and put birthday plans on hold and set out on a new adventure. I pulled up Amy’s long windy road thinking “what did you get me into Jesus.”  I spent entire weekend with four strangers learning a new way of allowing children to be with God and finding the start of my new church family. I remember the joy that bubbled up on Sunday when Lisa said, “they voted yes” (I know, I know we don’t vote.)

As is true with almost all of my church experience  this year has not being all roses and rainbows. There has been hardships, sadness, heart breaks, conflicts, and remorse. But from these things God brought healing, wholeness, and a forming of rooted relationships. He allowed me to practice trust and surrender. He used each and every time as opportunity to transform my broken images of God, of church and of ministry.

This year also brought lots of joys and the creating of our church family. Our dining room table was one of the holy spaces in which many of my lasting relationships and Jesus work was done. Over a healthy game of cards stories were told and lives were shared. And as Eli would say, “victories were won!” The sacred space that allowed us to become family wasn’t always at our table but it was anytime two or more of us were together. It was eating homemade doughnuts and climbing a hay mansion. There was Jesus and there was family. It was eating green and irish food and my children be welcomed with loving tickling arms. There was Jesus and there was family. It was serving thousands at the special needs Olympics shoulder to shoulder with those who have such a heart for that community. There was Jesus and there was family.  It was sharing life stories at a mom's sabbath. There was Jesus and there was family. It was a soft whisper of “I think I am suppose to pray for you” on a Sunday morning. There was Jesus and there was family. It was celebrating over some mighty good chocolate mousse.  There was Jesus and there was family. It was chips and salsa and life lessons with my teaching team. There was Jesus and there was family. It was  crying together, praying together, laughing together and loving together. There was Jesus and there was family.

I am so grateful to have walked the last year with you all and now I look to the present. I am a year old, more full of wonderings, learning to live with paradoxes and to live into the promises God has given us. I am joyfully walking linked arm in arm with all of you. Holding you in the light and claiming God’s love, joy and healing for this family. May we continue to see his Kingdom at work in us and through us. May we love each other and  our community with God’s unconditional love. May we see the Holy Spirit at work and follow his calling. May we encourage one another and invite wholeness. May we continue to be a faithful loving family to all. -with love Janelle

Matthew 18:20

For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them.

Are you turned off by Lent?

Several weeks ago when I (Marta) realized that Lent was just a few days away, I noticed that I experienced a sinking feeling—the kind of feeling that made my shoulders slump and my head drop a little.

As I reflected on my reaction I realized that Lent felt like a burden, one more thing to add to my already full life. I felt weary and I didn’t want another thing to manage.  

Lent is often described as a season of repentance and reflection. Growing up, I was taught that repentance meant “to turn away from,” and more specifically, “to turn away from sin.”

Like many people who grew up in the church, I tend to experience guilt and shame easily. Because I already struggle with feeling “not good enough,” the thought of entering into a season focused on “turning away from my sin” felt oppressive. I know God is not oppressive, so it got me wondering if there was something missing or off about my understanding of repentance. It turns out that there was.

The Hebrew word for repentance is “t’shuvah,” which means “to turn” or “to return.” It can mean to turn away from sin, but it can also mean to turn toward God or to return to God.

When we focus solely on turning away from sin, we get caught up in the willpower game and we get stuck. A better approach is to ask God to help us identify the things that we turn to for security instead of turning to God. 

Through this kind of prayerful reflection, God has helped me see that when I’m under stress I tend to put my nose to the grindstone and work harder. My tendency is to turn to over-work, and my own abilities, rather than turning to God for help. Much of my life I’ve also turned to sugary foods to comfort me in times of stress and sadness, rather than turning to God for consolation.

With this fuller understanding of the meaning of repentance, Lent feels different now. I’m experiencing Lent as a gift—an annual reminder and invitation to return to my Beloved and to my identity as God’s beloved. This, of course, is not just a once-a-year invitation. It is perhaps the most central and ongoing invitation of our lives.

Has God helped you identify the things you turn to for comfort or security? What practices and life rhythms might help you return to God throughout the week or day?

A Start

Here we are at the start of a new blog--one more new thing among many new things.

Leaving our old house, moving to a new town, finding our place within a new community and figuring out a new rhythm to our lives are all things that are new to us. This is a time of "new" for us and for 2nd Street. I hope this becomes a place where we can process all this newness together.

We live in a time and a culture where decisiveness is seen as a virtue. We're in the middle of a presidential campaign right now, and I'm guessing that most Americans--at least those who care about the election--are watching the candidates to see which one can make sense out of the overwhelming questions and issues facing us and form a decisive agenda that moves us forward.

However, we come from a tradition--a wise one I think-- that believes there is more value in paying attention and discerning than there is in deciding.

A friend recently asked me how I felt about the place Debi and I are in our lives. I had to think for a while, and then I told him, "I feel like we're in a long, dark tunnel and all we can do is move forward. There is no place to go to the right or the left, and the very one who is in front of us leading us through the tunnel is blocking our view so we can't see where the tunnel comes out."

If our future (what house we end up living in, how we make the transition, how we reorder our lives to fit our new situation) depended on us making decisions based on what we know, we're in big trouble. The wisest thing we can do is to stay attentive and follow in the footsteps of the One leading us through the tunnel. Eventually we'll see where the tunnel comes out.

I think 2nd Street has been, and in many ways still is, in a similar tunnel. And, the same one is leading and obscuring the view ahead. If we were to try and make decisions about our future (what the music ministry is going to look like, what the youth ministry is going to look like, what our role is in our community and how do we live that out...) based on what we know for sure right now, it would be like playing darts in the dark. Two things are likely to happen in that scenario: 1) we'd miss the target,and 2) someone will get poked with a dart.

It would be wise of us to remember that what-to-decide is not our responsibility. Following is our responsibility.

What I think we should do is pay really close attention to the one who is leading us, and step by step place our feet in the next available footprint.

What are your thoughts?

Bruce