September 6, 2004

• At My Church ...

  
  

  When do you know you're a member of any group?  Yesterday the pastor at the church I've been attending clarified the membership policy.  "We don't keep member rolls here because we noticed that frequently people who were very involved were not members and members on the rolls never came.  So we say that you are a member when you say you are a member.  When you start thinking and speaking of this as my church instead of their church or that church ..."

  
  

  I'm enjoying this church.  I'm not quite ready to call it my church yet, but I suspect that's only a matter of time.  Wanna check it out?  There's a website where you can listen to sermons (I like the kid who preaches on Saturday night as much as I like the teaching of the pastor on Sunday morning.)  Anyway, it's New Life Church in Colorado Springs.   

  
  

  I had an interesting experience at church a couple weeks ago that I'm still processing.  Those of you who are uncomfortable with God talk and so forth please hang with me to the end of this story, okay?  And then you can offer your take on it.  If you aren't comfortable leaving a comment in my public comments box, you are always welcome to email me at either terriverrette@yahoo.com or quiltnmomi@hotmail.com (If you email me, please identify yourself by something I'll recognize.) 

  
  

  Here's the story.  Sunday nights are hectic because church starts at 6, too early for the kids to be hungry enough to eat dinner before we have to leave home, but late enough that they have to have some kind of snack or they'll be gnawing my leg on the way home.  We do this little ritual thing where I offer them food and they say "no I'm not hungry for that" until it's time to head to the car where they are suddenly dying of starvation and simply cannot bear to see the Wendy's fade in the distance. 

  
  

  The boys have a Boy Scouts type group that meets during worship so I get them dropped off before I go into the auditorium.  I'm usually late.  Two weeks ago, I was late.  When I slipped into the room people were already singing and praying.  Some were kneeling, some were dancing.  (Are you getting the impression that worship is rather ... informal?  You'd be right.)  As soon as I opened my mouth to sing, tears began to pour down my face. 

  
  

  This happened to me once before this summer, when I visited my parents' church and I had that wonderful sense of homecoming.  So already you might want to chalk up my unusual evening to my being in a state of heightened emotion.  That's where I was prepared to go.  I was glad that I was in the back of my section so no one would pay any attention to me.  I'm really not all that overtly emotional and it's well, embarrassing to be caught in crying my room much less standing in a public place.  Okay, I'm emotional, I laugh a lot, but I don't cry for pity's sake!

  
  

  And why was I crying, anyway.  I couldn't tell you then, I can't really tell you now.  I know that I was feeling an overwhelming sense of being loved. 

  
  

  Just before the sermon, the speaker rose to address us.  "I have a special sense of the presence of God ministering in our midst tonight.  And I also have a special sense that there are people here who have strong needs for prayer and support.  Look around you, you'll know who they are.  Let's pray for one another ..."  All of a sudden there were people, a LOT of people looking at me.  Since I was the only one with mascara running down my face, I was kind of the obvious poster child for our area. 

  
  

  Soon I was surrounded by people who were praying for me.  One in particular took the lead and began to speak aloud, not so much speaking to God on my behalf, but speaking to me the things that he was ... receiving? sensing? hearing?  how would you put it?  (If you're charismatic, you'd say that this man began to prophesy.) 

  
  

  I can't tell you everything he said.  (although as soon as he was done I did immediately write a lot of it down.)  What I can tell you is that the words he spoke showed me myself in a light of love, acceptance and hope that I have not felt in a long time.  It was ... nice. 

  
  

  It got my attention, but I'm still not really sure what it all means.  So in the meantime I'm hanging out at church.  And who knows, someday soon, it may be my church.

  • 7:16 pm
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