Today’s Worship

Miranda and I were going to take the girls back to Journey Church this morning. The Maddox family was going to visit there with us again, and we were looking forward to it. While I was in the shower, Ian called and let us know that they weren’t going to be able to make it. Since Miranda and I had been wanting to visit Christ Community Church, we hurried things up somewhat and ended up heading into Montgomery for the morning.

We weren’t even completely in the door of the church when familiar faces began to welcome us. We spoke with and hugged folks we haven’t seen in almost three years, and it was good to do so. I had not spoken with Keith about the recent transitions in our lives, so he was clueless as to why I would be free to worship with them on a Sunday morning. When he asked if the Church at Silver Springs was having worship today, I told him that they were… but that I had resigned about a month ago. He looked surprised, and I told him I would connect with him later in the week. (After all, standing in the church entranceway with dozens of people milling around isn’t the best place to have such a conversation.)

Worship was good. No, scratch that… worship was phenomenal. At one point, all I could do was stand and mouth the words silently as a prayer. Singing was not an option… basking in the presence of God was all that I could do.

At the close of the song service, we sang a chorus that begins “You are awesome in this place…” As I sang, I began to cry. Let me go ahead and warn you that I am not one of those manly men who cries pretty. You know the type… the tears build up in their eyes until one lonely tear makes a solitary run down a cheek. Let’s just say that if I were a girl, the mascara would run until I looked like a raccon. In situations like today, I usually manage not to become a snotty mess, but the tears are usually plentiful.

So there I stood, basking in the presence of the Almighty, but painfully aware of who I am. I am a man called to minister. I am a man with a deep and consuming passion for authentic community and transparent relationships. I am a man who craves being a part of a community of faith where we experience the journey together, where people share the struggles and the sorrows as well as the joys… a place where people can be honest and not have to construct suits of fig leaves and lies.

And I am a man without a home. I am a man without a community. I am a shepherd without a flock. God called us to leave, but He didn’t bother to tell us where to go. So, like the nation of Israel, we are wandering around in the desert. I am looking for a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night… but so far, I haven’t seen a darn thing.

So, there I was… in the presence of the One who called us to move without telling us the destination… in the presence of the One who has a reputation for calming storms. The prayers were being offered and the tears were as well when I felt an arm wrap around my shoulders.

Keith leaned over and whispered, “Soak it in, my brother… soak it in.” He stood there for a moment as he sang, then he was gone.

Thanks, Pastor Buddy. I did.