This is, in part, an apology to Scott. You have no idea how much I respect that man – he’s willing to go forward, trying to do good, trying to create a good world for his children to grow up in – and mine, and yours. He is true to his values, and he puts shoe leather out there, not just words. That’s meaningful. He wants good for not just his people, but all the people. Meaningful. Mad respect.
And I agree with some of his statements in the Halloween post. Yes, if we had a homogeneous culture, many of our societal problems would be immediately reduced (I strongly disagree that race = culture). I have theological problems with Halloween – but if Halloween would revert to the kind of thing it was when I was 5, I’d probably be a lot less squicked out by it. And little kids in costumes are adorable. His kids in costumes are adorable. (I would like an alternate costume event, please – I can sew….).
Speaking of trying to create tradition from whole cloth, or take up someone else’s tradition – BTDT – pointless. You have to have community to have tradition. Homogeneous community – you have to have things in common. You have to have connection, not convenience. You have to have more than just your immediate family, or it gets awkward fast.
Scott. You have no idea how much I get you. I understand your hunger for that tradition, and may the Lord bless your efforts to give it to your children. You are in pursuit of a good thing.
The truth on the ground in my life is a lot different, which is where the testimony starts.
Once upon a time, a long time ago… I spent a lot of time reading prophecy blogs and prepper newsletters. I looked around me, and was immediately confronted with the fact that living where I do is ridiculous from a prepper aspect – we pipe our water in from the Colorado river! There.Is.No.Water.Here. So, at the point that our water supplies run out, we have to leave. (Assuming our neighbors haven’t decided to raid us because they got thirsty). Yes, of course we have food. But should we have six months of food? Nope. Because there is no way we can store six months of water.
Also, I live on a highly undesirable street, which annoys me in a multitude of ways. I could list them, but why? I don’t like it here. However, my home that I do not like is worth a lot of money, because lots of people want to live in SoCal. Solution: Let’s sell this house and move somewhere nice! This property could buy somethin’ gooooood somewhere else… Only, that wasn’t cool with my husband. (He has this pesky point about there not being any work for him that pays more than a fraction of what he makes now where we’d like to relocate). (Yes, we have a “when we win the lottery” plan that sounds a lot like Scott’s retirement plan. Only there’s a forge.)
I can’t tell you how long I spent sitting on my butt pouting about that and looking up properties on United Country and daydreaming… years. During the shakeup of everything else in my life, God made it absolutely clear that my attitude about moving somewhere sane was an idol. Ripping that out and dragging it to the altar was *not fun*. It hurt.
But shortly thereafter, I got confronted with a truth – am I here to do God’s will, or mine? Comfortable and pleasant, that was not. All my prophecy blogs did the job of convincing me that the Lord was coming back soon. So, folks seem to think that you should get prepping… my attitude was different. If the Owner is coming back, what should I be found doing, as a faithful steward? Probably just staring at the sky isn’t too useful. I don’t need to know the day and the hour – I need to get busy.
Things God’s given me, in this place I do not like: A good charter school for my kids – it’s one of the best schools in the country. A wonderful church, that people rave about (the love of God is palpable). A nearby beach. Good weather, mostly. A gym, where I was able to take back my physical fitness – from walking with a stick to lifting heavy. A great, stable job with amazing benefits for my husband. Friends. Family. My home itself is comfortable, and we spend a lot of weekends making it even better.
I want to talk about my church for just a second, as that’s a major blessing. Folks in the thread were talking about wanting a church where they knew the person next to them was really walking the walk, not just showing up. I get that. I don’t have that.
Our church is geared towards evangelism and loving on people. We’re GOOD at loving on people. If you talk to someone new at my church, that’s what you’ll hear. That they didn’t believe how much love they were going to be hit with. We’ll take you where ever you are in life. Recovery ministries? Check. People with really ‘interesting’ histories? Double-check. But. We give out the truth and we don’t budge. So – you were doing dope yesterday? K. We have a ministry for that – but don’t be expecting anyone to say it’s okay for you to do it today. You won’t be getting it. Living with your boyfriend and want a pastor to marry you? Forget it. You’d best be moving out first, and then planning on staying out for a long time while you do marriage counselling. Etc. Anyone can show up, but you should hear the process to become a deacon! Any leadership position anywhere in our church is a vetted process, even volunteering is vetted. We’ll find you something to do – but if you’re best suited to cleaning up the parking lot on Saturday morning, guess what? And do you know what this produces? A church full of people who look like, “she who was forgiven much, loves much”. It’s an AWESOME place to be.
It was more comfortable in my old church… everyone knew the unspoken rules. Trad church. Great music. Everyone dressed nicely. Everyone knew the parables, and who Jonah was. And… when I went back, pregnant and my finger swollen out of my wedding rings, what I got was side-eye. My old church is a quarter the size it was … it’s not the preaching, they’ve always had talented preachers. All the trad churches in my areas are suffering. The people there are pretty on the outside, but you can see the pastors getting ready to rip out their hair, because they ONLY want to be pretty on the outside. They want to be seen-to-be-good. They don’t want to get real.
My church does. I’ve learned so much here. The booklearning has been good, but the life-learning has been amazing. I have been humbled, speaking to people with half my education… because they live out the Word, daily. I have learned about the power of God. My old church was cessationist. Oh, my church now treats the gifts of the Spirit with tongs (folks get a little crazy pretty fast) but they expect them. Daily. Holy monkeys, people – the elders council won’t move until every member is in agreement, and the pastor is there because multiple people heard the audible word of God. (Which is the ONLY way he’d have been called – his health is horrible). Do you know what it’s like to go to a church that leans on the Holy Spirit? -shakes head- It’s wonderful. And frequently somewhat crazy. But in a good way.
The whole last 15 years of my life has done nothing except break up all my pretty ideas about a perfect life and replace that with a willingness to do good where I am. I can’t be satisfied with paint on the outside of a sepulcher now. I was, when I was a girl. I would still like to be somewhere with fewer drug dealers and homeless people. I would like to have the same cultural expectations, and the same language would be the bomb. But whatever. I am willing, at the end of the day, to say, “Not my will, but Yours be done”. I have an amazing life… I *refuse* to be the person who says, “Give, Give” (Prov 30:15), even though my flesh would dearly like me to do so. And you know, I’m getting to like this whole, “getting real, getting raw” stuff. It’s GOOD. And it keeps me low on the hypocrisy meter, which I have a tendency to set off. I’m learning so much, every day. The more I talk to people not-like-me, the more I learn. It’s good. So good. I am blessed and growing and grateful. If I’d lived the life I wanted to live, I wouldn’t have a tenth the spiritual blessing that I’ve received. I am so blessed. It’s hard, and it doesn’t look like I want it to look, and I’m not in control, which is irritating. But God is. And He’s righteous and just and faithful – and I choose to trust Him, even when I can’t say why and don’t have a clue where I’m going.
But yes, I’m still flesh, and if DH gets transferred to Idaho, I will be singing hallelujah choruses while I pack. But I don’t expect that any time soon… so.
So, Scott. Yes, you’re right. You’re completely right. Cultural homogeneity would reduce our social problems radically. And that sure would be nice. I don’t figure it’s too likely, but it sure would be nice. May God bless you and your family, and keep you safe from all harm.
Hands, Heart, Hearth 