Rehabilitation & Therapy: Part II of what I learned about church post college.

Like last week's writing, I've fretted over what to say in this note. I've fretted because this chapter involves my friends, family and people I live near and love dearly. I've needed time to rehearse and review my own timeline of events to make sure I get my story straight. As the final pieces have clicked in my mind, I am now ready to share.

The Journey to Texas

Texas. It's that mythical place you've heard about, that people talk about, that just sort of is. I was happy with my fairy tale version of the place and never had the desire to go there, let alone live there. When I moved with my parents to Missouri post summer of graduation I had no where to go. Or at least that's what I felt. My dream of being in my home state had been painfully crushed. My family was going through hard times and I knew I needed to go somewhere other than where I was. I didn't know where to go. Thankfully my brother's invited me to check out where they were living: Texas and Georgia.

Options

I visited both places, and really enjoyed the time I spent with family. The question was, "What next?" In biblical times when people were perplexed and confused they did two things: they fasted and they prayed. I decided to do the same. Through prayer and fasting I set my eyes on Texas, even though I didn't have the resources to get there, let alone stay there. My parents gave me their car (a major sacrifice for them at the time) and my aunt, uncle and two wonderful cousins let me stay with them while I searched for work.

Baggage

I didn't drive into Texas a whole person. There were pieces of me scattered around the country, pieces I knew I couldn't drive backwards to pick up. I knew I needed to keep going, but I was very selective about where that direction was. My tolerance for not-quite-Christian-behavior in churches was low. One sniff of something amiss and I passionately stated that's not a place I wanted to be. I caught a whiff of that something amiss at my aunt, uncle and two wonderful cousins' church. Pain has a funny way of making us say terrible things we wouldn't say when whole. I said some really bad things about that church to the people who were graciously letting me live in their home. I drove to the other side of the Dallas/Fort Worth Metroplex to go to church and be involved.
In a car without AC.
During the second hottest summer on record in Texas.
With no radio.
With at least an hour drive. One way.
I am stubborn.

Healing

Grace can be found in the oddest of places. Life is a journey and not all roads can be traveled forever. I didn't know this when I first showed up in North Richland Hills, but I gave my heart to that church, and I received more than I was capable of giving. I learned more about God's Redemption and Forgiveness, about his desire to re-unite his family and heal the fractures of our broken world. I heard this message in a small church plant that was struggling for life. The church plant ended up not surviving, but the lessons I learned there will be with me for the rest of my life. A very small place spoke the words I needed to hear and encouraged me to continue on. I am very grateful to them for the ministry that happened in that place, and I am proud to have been a part of the believers who made that place up.

Re-visiting my sins

As time passed and I returned to North Dallas to re-focus my life, to experience what it means to live AND work in the same community. God has a sense of irony and humor, as the one place I didn't want to go, I ended up going to. My aunt, uncle and two wonderful cousins' church. There I had been a change in leadership while I was gone. I started an internship in the youth group right away. I had to confront the nasty unkind things I had said months before, and by the grace of God my family forgave me. I started out fresh, and was on the path to wholeness, a path that suddenly pointed me back to the Northwest

Making the Big Time where you are

Through a series of odd life events my parents knew someone in a small Oregonian town who was looking for a youth minister type person. It wasn't a traditional church setting. (I really wasn't interested in a traditional church setting at the time, even though I was interning at a church).  The ministry team in this small town Oregon flew me out to visit and interview. That week changed my life.

I didn't know what to expect, but what I saw, heard and experienced was something I was looking for: perseverance. This small town and its ministry had been changing lives and raising up leaders for more than 30 years. As I spoke with the people who were involved in the ministry I sensed a very near and present presence of the Holy Spirit. These people did not have all the answers, but they were committed to seeking God as they sought the future direction for their ministry. I met the man who started it all, building the ministry out of his basement. He's one of the most passionate and focused people I have ever met. He's transforming the lives of students in a very simple, tangible real way. And because he's been at it so long, he's changed the shape of his town and the surrounding towns. He's bringing people to know Jesus. That's the focus of his ministry. They do a lot of fun stuff, but the goal is for every student to know Christ. Everything they do points to that one central goal. When I looked him in the eyes I could see that fire burning. I know it's still burning today

Back to North Texas

I didn't get the job. But I didn't forget what I felt in that small often overlooked place in Oregon. It challenged my thinking of church, and it made me ask, "Are we doing it wrong?" Wrong as in missing out on the central part of the gospel where everything we do points people to Christ, AND we get to do it with all of our passion and personalities intact. It's no wonder that a few months after returning, I quit the part of the internship that I didn't see pointing people to Christ.

Out of 'church' into the fire

It wasn't long after I quit part of my internship that I stopped going to 'church' entirely. 'Church' is that thing we do on Sundays. It's a cultural practice that is the first hallmark we think of when asked, "Do you go to church?" But the church isn't a place, its a people. I kept on with a small group of men and I kept on in the youth group until it stopped for the summer. What was I doing with my Sunday mornings? Working. With a Hindu-based group at my place of work.

Religion versus Truth

The not quite-Hindus are some of the nicest people I've met. They have social ministries, form a tight-nit community, eat a lot of wonderful Indian food and sing and dance and celebrate their culture. They teach about character development, about the inner voice that guides us, about lessons we can learn from nature. They are a well organized and happy people. In the 6 months I immersed myself in their culture, there is one thing I didn't feel: the power of the Holy Spirit. I also never heard about the power of sacrificial love. These two things are what separates Christianity from everything else. If a church only preaches character development, about inner guiding voices, lessons from nature and sings, dances and celebrates their culture with amazing food it is not Christian. What I learned is that are groups of people who are much better at practicing the social aspects of the gospel than some churches, but social ministry alone is not the call of the gospel. It's to enter into a relationship with God through His sacrificial love and be transformed by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Coming home

I remember my first Sunday back in 'church'. The service felt very foreign. I suddenly knew why people didn't understand our 'church' services. They are odd. And the church I attended in North Texas wasn't even liturgical! I found aspects of those ministering during the service odd: AKA the tech teams. I understand how using technology can 'enhance' a service, but I had a hard time calling sitting behind a camera service to God, even when I was doing it for my friends who I knew would be watching it later. I wanted something more. So I quit the tech team (even though I've had a relationship with tech teams since my early teens). I couldn't spend my time doing something I wasn't convicted would be the best use of my time to bring people closer to God.

Convicted

I'll never forget the 'expectations' I heard about what it means to be Christian: 1 hour in a 'sunday' service, 1 hour in a small group, 1 hour of service. IF all I got to do was spend 1 hour on Sunday than fine. IF all I got was 1 hour with a small group of people seeking God than fine. But IF I only had 1 hour to serve my community it wasn't going to be as a parking lot attendant or camera man. I understand this formulaic package is a starting point. I get it's designed for people who are very busy, have limited time and are trying out this thing called Christianity. However, I utterly reject this notion. It's cheap. Christianity is about selling out your ENTIRE life. Not just 3 hours of a week, but every hour in every day to the glory of God. This means I can glorify God while sleeping, eating, working, practicing my fitness, reading, washing dishes, sending an email, answering my phone, talking with others, playing sports, coaching sports, writing blogs, cooking meals, texting, etc. All day, every day, I never stop practicing my faith. It touches every aspect of my life. It should be in every word, not just the good words, but the bad ones too.

I know this all-day-all-of-the-time-life is the kind of life the man who told me this formula wants his people to live. I know this because he lives this way. If people could smell bad because of their closeness to God, he reeks. He's not the smelliest minister I have ever met, but he has a very strong stench all his own. And he encourages his staff to smell as bad or worse than he does. He is a model for the church, even though I believe some of the particulars are off. Because even though I don't agree with everything he says, I believe in the direction he's trying to point people and the way he wants them to go. He wants them to find Jesus, even though his eyes aren't on fire all the time.

And when the time came for me to leave North Dallas and move southwest I was sad to go. I missed the church I met at the 'church'. Even though I'm not too far away I still don't get to see them often enough. I don't get to hear enough of the power works they are doing in their community. I don't get to hear enough of the lives that are being changed through the ordinary people empowered by God. I don't get to talk with my tech team friends and appreciate the work they do, especially because it's work I don't want to do. And I don't get enough time to say thank you to a group of people who helped and challenged me on my path of  healing and growth.