So I went to my second Christmas Concert of the year today, officially. Over 1/2 my family was in our church’s 12th annual Living Christmas Tree concert, and this morning was their last concert. Wow. I was in the tree for five years, and I was seriously jealous of the dramatic action taking place on that stage. Statistics taken by my little sister claim that the man who played the town constable consumed six donuts per show, which adds up to 36 cherry jelly donuts in all. Gross. They even got to perform a riot scene taking place in a department store. now that’s some drama I could handle.

On the other hand, going to my home church was a little depressing. It’s not the same church that I grew up in, although I still scare the little kids, and I still see people that I know and want to hug me and ask me if I’ve “found that special someone yet.” (gag me with a backhoe). There are times I will climb over pews to get away from Michael’s grandmother. I feel like wearing my “Manhater Club President” t shirt sometime, Leah :). Maybe it’s because going back there reminds me of the person that I was in high school, and the person I was before that, and I tend to believe the people that know me at that church still see me as the church poster child who is involved in every ministry available to her. It’s funny how I’ve moved from “the girl who gets annoyed when everyone decides she’s picking the pew for the youth group to sit in” to sitting alone in the front row and is ecstatic because she has no friends around. It’s somewhat ironic that when I think of coming back here, I tend to think of two things, my family and my church. I distinctly remember crying to one of my drama homies, Ken, the week before I left for college my freshman year. I didn’t want to leave First Family, because it was my family. I probably spent more time there working for Timm and sneaking in to play the piano than I did at home with my family.

So I was sitting there through the THIRD rendition of the song, “A Little More Christmas” and thinking about all of this. About how I was consciously segregating myself from Amanda, Chad, Upchurch, Nick, Gina, etc etc etc. About how I was trying to avoid adults who knew my name, or my parents and about how all I wanted to do was sit with Timm and Lori, or how I wished that Dellaina wasn’t singing so we could just sit and chat it up. I’m glad that I don’t feel at home at my church anymore. I’m not glad that I don’t feel at home at any church, but still…I think that I was basing my entire ideas about God and my Christian walk on the parts that I played there. The cell group leader who set the example, the girl who was always pregnant in the dramatic presentations, the “smart young lassie” who could throw together an offeratory piece while walking up to the piano to play. Sometimes it gets you in the mindset that you can do anything…without God.

Do you want to know a secret? I’ve never led anyone to the Lord. Ever. It scares the piss out of me. I was there when Cox prayed with Chad, I led the cell group meeting that Dave got saved at, and I accompanied Doug down the aisle at that crazy concert a few years ago. I think that I would try and take all the glory for myself, and miss out on the amazing event that was happening right before me that in all actuality, I have nothing to do with.

So all of you – that discussion we had on the way to Molalla? the hardest thing God could ask me to do? Yes, not to be involved in the ministry. But I also think that in other ways being in the ministry is the hardest thing He could ask me to do. My biggest fear concerning it is that it will become a job to me, and not a privilege. Like I’ve already turned some of my classes into. It’s ironic that God would choose someone who thrives on being self-reliant, to do something that’s so impossible to do on their own strength. Good ol’ God and His sense of humor. (Was I sacreligious in saying that? i dunno…) The only thing is, I’m sure glad that He’s god and He knows what He’s doing, cuz if He wasn’t? I’d be a little scared. Anyway, I’m off to catch a runaway ferret with a loose bladder…we’re hoping it isn’t menopause…and then play some Zelda. (Yay for Zelda!)

Slayer of the Iron Knuckle and Triumphant Winner of the Captain’s Hat,
Me.

Advertisements