on home, church, songs

This blog post might get long, I don't know.  It's one of those that's for me- the future me who looks back in a few years to see what we were doing in the fall of 2013.  So feel free to skip this one.

 

We have been in Mississippi for about 3 1/2 years now and it is our home.  Like, our right-now-home, not our "we're from here" home.  (In small town MS you're not from here unless your grandparents were born here.  Ha!)

 

HOME is a word I wrestle with.  It's one of those words that the English language does not do justice to.  It means everything from which team wears the light jerseys, to where we spend eternity.  Home is a feeling and a place and people.  It is a laden with emotion.  My home is a yellow house in Bendena.  My home is Jon David.  My home is what Grammy's back porch smells like on a summer evening, and it's the sound of my kids breathing deeply in their sleep.  My home is worshiping with other Christ-followers in spirit and in truth.   Home is a peace, deeper than contentment, on the inside.  And I long for it and am thankful for it and it's all jumbled up together.

 

For the first year we lived here our family tried out church after church that people recommend to us (and there are HUNDREDS of churches- no exaggeration.)  They are all about the same- same type music, same format, super-friendly-shake-your-hand people.  We even went to one (and really enjoyed ourselves!) that was called- I kid you not- "Christ Is Life Ministry Church Inc."  Although they were all fine churches, none of them felt like home.  While we searched, we plugged our kids into the First Baptist church right down the street that had a vibrant and extensive Wednesday night children's ministry.  Two years ago that same church began a Sunday night service called "Lighthouse."  It was supposed to be a service that reached the "unchurched" in the area- and I suppose technically we fit that description!  We went to the Lighthouse service faithfully for two years and got involved in the Wednesday evening classes- teaching and attending.  We tried to connect and fit in to the Sunday morning/Sunday School crowd, but it just wasn't for us.  

 

People at First Baptist are a little puzzled by us, I think.  They are loving and friendly, but I really think we are "that strange family that seems to love the Lord, but need prayer because they don't faithfully come to His House."  But that may just be in my paranoid head.  We felt convicted long ago that it is much better for our family to go to ONE service on a Sunday.  Anything more- religiously- is legalistic for us.  JD works most nights and every Saturday from October through March, and with Halle in school it is just unhealthy for us to spend that extra time separated and "at church."  Instead we make it a point to do our Family Church at whichever time we are not corporately worshiping.  (Basically Family Church is us setting aside time to sing and dance and worship with YouTube music, and memorizing and discussing our weekly verses.  Good, important stuff.)

 

This summer JD and I really felt like we were wrestling again with "The Church Problem" in our lives: Should we just make it official and "become a member" where we have somewhat reluctantly plugged in, or do we keep praying and waiting for God to give us peace about where we need to be?  It's a tough place to be in for three years.  JD had several conversations with the Lighthouse pastor (who we appreciate and respect) to ask about the whys and hows of certain things.  While we like First Baptist, and love many many of the members we always felt a little uneasy about the whole membership-thing.

 

Let me pause and make plain the major things that were heavy on our hearts when looking for a church:  1- Christ/Gospel centered  2- Community focused (outward not inward, as in- reaching and connecting with people outside of the church bldg, instead of just the "ya'll COME" mentality that is so common.)  3- Diversity- we live in a community where people look beautifully different from one another, but you wouldn't know it on Sunday morning.  

 

Please hear this:  First Baptist Ripley is a great church.  Those people love the Lord and love people and have a passion for Kamonoro, Africa.  They value children and honor the elderly.  They serve the community and welcome anyone.  It is a church that is straining at revival.  The youth programs are booming and real change is happening in lives- glory to God!   I enjoy every minute of the Wednesday night class I am privileged teach (the little Warrior boys) and appreciate so much the Word that is poured into Halle in her Wisdom class. 

 

We just haven't felt the peace we have prayed for.

 

So at the end of September JD happened to meet the music guy from a new church plant in New Albany (about 15 minutes away) on campus one afternoon and they struck up a conversation.  Before I knew it JD invited the pastor and his family to come eat supper at our house so "the kids can play" and we could find out more.  ("The kids can play" is code for "We have a ton of kids and not everyone can handle that so come to our house because nothing can be destroyed."  ha!)  So they did.  We were interested, but very reserved- remember we were still very very burnt out on the visiting churches thing.  We have filled out all the 'first time visitor cards' that we ever will in our lifetime.  Never again.  We don't want the postcard or the phone call or the house visit or even the free gift.  (No seriously.)

 

Anyway, we visited.  And Dan, the lead pastor, asked if he could come to JD's practices on Thursdays- not to invite anyone to church, just because he played ball in college and wanted to be around as long as JD would allow it.  (He comes every Thursday and fills water bottles, rebounds, anything he's asked without any churchy-ness.)  We visited again.  And again.  And slowly we started to feel like maybe our long waiting-on-the-Lord season wasn't just us being crazy picky.  Maybe it was God's plan all along.  Just maybe the Lord had every intention of using the 3 1/2 years we felt like the kooky people to mature us spiritually to the place where we can humbly help (in whatever little or big way) plant a church.  Is it perfect?  Good gracious NO.  But neither are we.   Only God is perfect. 

 

This morning the band played a song that made me weep.  And I felt it: HOME.     

Here is the song that got to me-

 

 

 

 

I've mentioned it once in the past, but I am a big Jimmy Needham fan.  Currently (Well, for the last couple of months.) I have been obsessed with this song:

Listen to it.  You will be too.