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What I’m listening to: Sarah Masen’s The Dreamlife of Angels
I was just out of college and searching for a new church. The city of Colorado Springs was my new home, so I had plenty of options. I decided to start with what I knew: the Evangelical-Free churches. The first challenge was simply finding the building, one of which was nestled very quietly on the far west side of the city in the middle of a residential area. It was very nearly up in the hills at the base of Pike’s Peak.
I remember a lot of things about this visit – I remember the sanctuary was about 1/3 full. A youth pastor was candidating and filling the pulpit for the morning and his sermon was entitled “24-7-365”. I remember looking around at the other people and feeling very uncomfortable as they all stared at me – wondering who I was, what’s my story, etc, etc. I remember the man that greeted me at the door; he spoke to me kindly, handed my a bulletin and pointed me to the sanctuary.
But more importantly, I remember the reception I received at this church. It was awkward enough, after all, I was by myself in a new place, and looking around at the congregation and was watched by everyone already there, wondering who I was, but no other person spoke to me. They spent a lot of time looking at me, but no one other than the greeter said a a word to me. Talk about awkward. Even when I stayed to have coffee afterwards. Awkward. Awkward. Awkward.
So, did I go back? What do you think? Of course not.
I was shown no love at this church by anyone other than the guy who opened the door for me. It was summer in Colorado, but there was a cold breeze rushing over me as they all stared at me, wondering who I was, what my story was, and what I was doing there.
The church is to be a place where broken people can heal. The family of believers that make up a church are commanded by God to share Christ with those who don’t know him. Christ is there to heal those hurts, to restore and offer grace where it’s neither deserved nor earned. And how does he first do that? By loving us.
Only through love will a person want to come back to a building where believers meet, for love is just another form of acceptance. And feeling welcome and accepted is all anybody wants. The church is not to be there for acceptance of one’s sin, obviously, but rather acceptance that we all sin. And we can be redeemed and restored from the brokeness sin leaves in our hearts.
Is today’s modern church more concerned with getting people in the building than what to do with them after they are there?
We live in a world today where, for the average person, there isn’t much we can’t get. So what does the church have to offer the average person who has access to anything? This is the question we should be asking ourselves. Unchurched people come to church for different reasons. They may have very specific needs or they may just be looking for acceptance. And how can we achieve that if we are afraid to speak to a visitor that comes through the door of a church building?
If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. 1 Cor. 13: 1-2
What I’m listening to: James Taylor Live, Disc 2
So, to only have three family Christmas events to attend isn’t so bad. I’m fortunate to have any family at all to spend the holidays with. On my dad’s side, I have lots of cousins about the same age and they all had babies in the last 3-4 years. So, this year (in which the most recent 4 were born) that Christmas was a little nutty. Not everyone could come, but there were still 6 children under the age of three in one house. 7 more children (under the age of 8) are part of our family.
That. is. nuts. If my grandparents were still alive, they would boast 13 great-grandchildren. All under the age of 8. Nuts.
As one of the three cousins who don’t have kids yet, it’s great practice in case I ever do.
And once again, we did not have a white Christmas. I’m was really holding out for one this year. It’s snowed quite a bit, but we’ve also had 40-50 degree weather. So all the snow is melted. For at least the 5th year in a row there was nothing but dead grass and empty tree limbs to look at through the window.
For some reason having snow on Christmas takes me back to my childhood. I needed that this year. I wanted to remember snow ice-cream, snow clinging to my back after making angels, snowball fights with my brothers, snowmen so tall I had to stand on my radio flyer to put his hat on.
What I’m listening to: Happy Christmas Vol. 2 (Which was the best version of You’re A Mean One Mr Grinch on it I’ve ever heard.)
I never much enjoyed hanging out with girls when I was younger. Too much drama. The backstabbing, petty, mean-girl behavior never appealed to me. I don’t like hurting people’s feelings, and even when it happens unintentionally I’m upset for days after discovering it. Those girls who make fun of the kid who only has 1 pair of shoes to wear to school and an out-of-date haricut are MEAN. And I never understood how behaving that way made you feel superior. I always felt worse after I did.
Boys? Way less drama. If bad things happened, they dealt with it and moved on. End of story. No heavy emotional baggage gets lugged around with them, so months later it doesn’t sneak up and take it out on you again.
However, I am very happy my preference for men friends is no longer with me.
What would I do without my girlfriends? The kind of friends you can laugh silly with, can understand what you’re going through at work because you’re a woman, and feels with you when are deeply hurt by someone. For many men, it just flies right over their heads. I never feel embarrassed crying during a movie when a woman is next me. And only a woman can find joy in driving around town for and hour and a half just to listen to Christmas music and look at houses decorated with twinkle lights. (By the way, Clay Aiken’s Christmas album is the worst thing I’ve ever heard.)
Nothing can take the place of a really good friend who “gets” you. And a man? Just can’t do that. We are too complicated. And men have this strange desire to fix us. I know it’s part of the whole “chasing after” thing, but sometimes? Men – we don’t need to be fixed. We just need someone to listen to us and love us. If we want you to fix something, we’ll ask you. (At least those of us who aren’t passive-agressive will.)
What I’m listening to: First Call’s Beyond December
In the bleak mid-winter, the frosty wind did moan
The earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone
Snow had fallen softly, snow on snow on snow
In the bleak mid-winter, oh so long ago
Our God, heaven cannot hold Him nor the earth sustain
Heaven and earth shall flee away when He comes to reign
In the bleak mid-winter a stable place sufficed
For the Lord almighty, Jesus Christ
Oh what can I give Him, woeful as I am
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb
If I were a wiseman, oh I would do my part
Yet, what can I give Him — I will give my heart
Oh what can I give Him — I will give my heart
It does feel a little like the bleak mid-winter here. Snow has fallen, the sun has shone a little and melted some, but the cold has set in. Now as the earth remains too cold to melt the remaining, ice has formed on the roads. The leaves are all gone from the trees – there is nothing green left nor any more vibrant colors of autumn anywhere in my sight. It is offically winter.
Well, not exactly. But still, did I not say? Did I not claim that Matt Dillon’s performance was incredible?
His Gloden Globe nomination is well deserved. Perhaps this will redeem this previous missteps of tasteless comedy and raunchy teen flicks. (However, I always liked “The Outsiders”.)
Stephanie Nelson 