Homecoming

Today was homecoming at the church we attend in Nashville. It didn’t really feel like homecoming, to newcomers like us, but it was a wonderful uplifting atmosphere nonetheless. Our speakers recalled church history and spoke on the meaning of home. There were hugs from old friends found again and a barbecue lunch for all with music and games. Whether visitors, new members, or friends from afar returned, all were welcomed as a part of the coming-home.  I felt blessed to be a part of a church where coming home held special meaning and it left me thinking about home.

I haven’t been home in a long time. There is a saying that “Home is a place you grow up wanting to leave, and grow old wanting to get back to.” I left Birmingham to come back to Middle Tennessee almost five years ago. I thought moving back so close to where I grew up would mean I would find easy belonging. I was wrong. The familiarity tears wide open a longing that the place itself cannot provide. It is universally true and yet it feels so personal. The country roads still lead to the same house of my youth and people still gather inside, but they are not my people and it is not my home.  My childhood home no longer exists.  In my favorite Billy Joel song, “You’re My Home” he relates that home can be anywhere as long as he is with the one he loves. I believe this and it gives me hope and I make a new home and fiercely love all that gather here. But, they keep growing up and are leaving more than they are coming lately, and I feel like a Christmas tree left up until Easter. Everyone is celebrating a new season and I am a bit droopy and out of place. And again, I search for home and look forward to homecoming.

As our speaker said this morning, home is not a place any more than the church is a place; a home and the church are its people. And what I realized today in worship, is that if God’s family and its people are my home as Billy J. says, “I will never be a stranger and I’ll never be alone…cause home is just another word for you  church” And, lately I have been feeling more and more like I come home every Sunday. I see smiling faces of new friends and remember the details of their journeys I am beginning to know and cherish. I visit today with the new mom behind me who was once just a pregnant stranger. Today, as she pats her baby’s back to the rhythm of life all around us, we exchange baby stories and relate as only mothers can.  The couple to my right buried a brother this week and I hug the wife after service because I know; I have stood at the grave too many times myself. The elderly man (whose seat we may or may not have taken by accident) misses his wife who is in a nursing home with Alzheimer’s disease, and he loves to tell us stories about the many people he knows and has known. He blesses us every Sunday with his memories and love of life. In the world where we make people our home we are tossed about – never knowing what news and change will batter us next. In God’s Church, we are anchored- whatever the storm. Fragile and in transition separately, together we are a stable home – never changing. Together we are a people called with a common purpose, tied together by a common love, and held together by a common hope in Jesus. We can come home every Sunday. Because we gather. Whoever is left. Until he comes.

#homecoming #wearethechurch #justwrite 

Do I Have a Ready Answer for the Most Important Question?

I sat across from my new friend Xiaoyu ('Zow U') from China. She is my first student in my new adventure with the FriendSpeak program at church. We meet on Wednesday nights because many like Xiaoyu are new to the U.S., and want to practice their English, make a new friend, and (sometimes PTL!) study the Bible and learn more about God.

Xiaoyu sent me a picture of a church she visited in China

Her home is 7500 miles from Nashville, yet we sit just inches apart. We are alike: we are women who care about husbands, daughters and responsibilities. We laugh easily as we settle into our visit. Her dark eyes and sweet smile bolster my courage and warm my heart. I know she has been reading her Bible and wants to know more. I am so eager to dig my hands into spiritual soil with Xiaoyu that my excitement overrides any trepidation.

As we begin to read in Luke, she looks up with a question. The power of this moment was in its simplicity, and I could feel the words as much as I could hear them. A question asked by maybe millions throughout time and one that must be both asked and answered by everyone who professes Christ. I am sure it has been asked in doubt, cynicism, fear, and frustration. On the contrary, Xiaoyu's face and her tone implied a mix of hope and wonder. She waved her hand over the text and asked just three words, "Is this true?” "Is this true?" I could feel my heart in my chest as I looked into her eyes. How do I answer in a way that will make a difference? I know there is apologetic evidence that I am in no way prepared to present. But then, I realize the answer she seeks is not a tangible one. Woman-to-woman and mom-to-mom, she wonders do I believe these are more than just stories in a book? Is the Bible true to me? In my life, is this true?

I know at that moment I have exactly what I need…an authentic answer. Yes, my friend I believe this is true. In my heart, I know it is true. God had a plan for you and me from before the first sunset. Jesus was not only a man who lived; He is my God who lives still. Praise God, He is real - Everyday. Praise God for those who seek the truth with all their heart, for He will be found (Jer. 29:13). Praise God for Xiaoyu!

#Godisreal #Jesuslovesyou #justwrite