Feeling like I'm not serving well?

Another reason I've felt "in the wilderness" on my church journey is that I've worried that I'm not serving as well as I should.  Why do I feel this way?

I suppose a lot of it goes back to my "going to church" days when I was super-involved in all the goings-on.  At one time or another, and often all at once, I was a Sunday-school teacher, the nursery department coordinator, Women's Ministry Bible study leader, church janitor, church secretary, church treasurer, church camp counselor, church camp prayer leader, played piano and guitar with the church music ministry, led worship, led Children's Church, cooked and served for church potlucks, ran the cafe for the Saturday night youth ministry coffee house... and so on and so forth.

Naturally, most of the time I was patted on the back and praised for my wonderful servant heart.  Of course there were a couple times there when someone was jealous of a "position" I held, and did all they could to get me out - out of the position, and even out of the church.  And sometimes I was disappointed that it seemed like a lot of the time we were "preaching to the choir" and not reaching out much, and it seemed like there often was a lack of prayer and a lack of real spiritual growth.  But overall, I felt pretty good about my serving! 

And now ... I suppose I am still seeking that recognition and commendation to some degree.  I have to admit that it's hard to leave that behind. 

And it does feel kind of strange to be sort of floating around waiting to see what God leads me into, instead of having all kinds of "opportunities" right there desperately needing to be filled.

And, with my teaching background, in church and in public, Christian, and home school, I kind of miss those formal opportunities to teach with a more or less captive audience there to be enthralled with my wisdom, right? 

And it was pretty convenient to have the church's "mission" set out right there, and never have to worry that you weren't doing enough serving.  The churches I attended had goals and mission statements and all that sort of thing to keep us motivated.  They also had statements of faith so you knew exactly where you stood on the finest points of doctrine, and if you didn't stand in the right spot, you knew enough to learn to toe the line, or you could of course find another church to go to (except when I lived in a small town with only one church, LOL).

Of course, I do notice some good things about this not serving well thing.  For example, I'm not exhausted anymore.  And no one is pressuring me to accept positions that they "just know the Lord is calling you to do" even if I have no sense of His calling at all in that area.  And I have more time to go out and visit and help people in their homes and on the streets.  (I always wondered why we didn't "go forth" more - but of course we had missionaries and evangelists and such for that, and we really were busy doing really important things for the church's mission, weren't we?)

Another good thing is that I've been surprised at how much I've learned from people who don't "appear" to be well educated or theologically savvy: being a learner and a walk-alongside-person instead of a teacher/ leader actually has its advantages.  For example, when you're not the super busy, organized, well trained, leader-type person, other people like you better, and are more willing to be a real friend, and just see when you're needing them and come alongside and be helpful in real, practical, hands-on caring ways.  (Like pastors must wish for, you know).

Another thing - when I was going to church, probably because I've always been a kind of "Jill of all trades, master of none" person, people were constantly telling me I had this gift or that - and insisting that I exercise it in whatever program they needed my help with.  Sometimes I enjoyed it.  Sometimes, I have to admit, I did NOT enjoy it. 

And, sadly, at the end of all that I came to the point where I had no idea any more what my gift(s) really might be and wondered if I even had any at all.  Maybe I really was just a "...master of none" person.  At least now I'm not under pressure to perform any of my don't-know-if-I-have-them gifts, so I can just relax and enjoy whatever Father brings along for me to do with Him.  Awesome!

One disadvantage, though, of not "going to church" like I used to is that I'm not under the same good, strong, motivational schedule of serving.  I have to admit that because I had the church's schedule of meetings, it did motivate me to also have a schedule of morning devotions with Bible reading and prayer and journaling, and other such "serving the Lord" things at home.  I mean, I was more disciplined then, you know? 

Now, it seems like my self-discipline has evaporated.  I mean, yes, I chat with Father off and on during the day and night (okay, sometimes more off than on, oh dear), and I am more aware of His Presence with me (I never feel "alone in the desert without God" like I used to).  But shouldn't I be more formal about it?  I have to say, there's something pretty wilderness about not having a formal schedule and checklist, and a long list of "shoulds."  Those "shoulds" were pretty secure and comforting in their own way, uh huh.

Wow.  I thought I only had a sentence or two to say about this.  But it seems that I'm hearing a whole lot of things from Father as I write this post.  But Lord, that wasn't the point of this exercise, don't you know?  :-)  Okay, yes, I admit I really do love You ignoring my schedules! Thank You! :-)

Anyway, it's comforting to know I'm not the only one going through this "not serving well" thing.  Recently, in a post called "Owner or Renter?" at the Beyond Church Walls blog, I read about how the blog post writer and a couple friends were having a conversation about the gifts God has placed in them.  And, as the writer says, "One of the things that surfaced during our conversation was a grief and frustration about the level at which we had functioned while in the religious system versus how we felt we were using our gifts now."  He goes on to talk about how "sharp, in tune, and on the ball" they were then, and how he has "become somewhat complacent and dull in many ways."

But then one of his friends pointed out a pretty profound analogy:

He pointed out that we had never truly taken ownership of our gifts and callings but had a renter’s mentality. See, when one rents a home he lives there with the landlord’s permission and can only do what the landlord allows him to do. He can’t freely paint rooms, put in new carpet, or redo the yard without consulting the landlord first. But on the flip side, the renter does not carry the heavy responsibilities of ownership. The renter doesn’t have to make any repairs, spend any money on upgrades, or concern himself with the resale value of the property. A renter gets the benefits of living in a home without the burdens and freedoms of home ownership. We realized that in the religious system we functioned in our gifts and callings as renters. It was our duty to function in them but we did not have the burden of ownership. That rested with the pastor. Our gifts and callings were submitted to the authority and vision of the pastor or other leaders the same way one submits to a landlord. The pastor decided how far we could go with the gifts and callings and although we did not have complete freedom to function according to all Father had placed in our hearts, we also were free from the responsibility of having to be self-motivated and sort out how Father wanted us to move forward. We functioned within the framework that was laid out before us and did not have to shoulder the responsibilities that come with fulfilling a calling God places on one’s life. It is one thing to be accountable to man, it is another thing to function out of a keen awareness of being accountable to God.

Amen!  That's the point, isn't it?  I get that.  I've been a house renter myself for years, and now I've been a homeowner the past couple years.  I really do get that picture.  And I get how it applies to my whole "I feel like I'm not serving well" moaning and groaning.  It's time to get over it.  It's time to lift my eyes and see what God has done for me!

He has freed me from the pressure of being accountable to man.  He has freed me from the pressure of being accountable to the institution's system. He has freed me to "function out of a keen awareness of being accountable to God."  And it's a joy and pleasure to walk in that freedom because Jesus IS IN ME. It's not my heavy responsibility anymore.  Isn't that awesome?!

No, I am not going to worry anymore about "not serving well."  I'm just going to walk this walk with Jesus, and listen to His voice, and do whatever I see Him doing, say whatever I hear Him saying.  Like He did with Father when He was here on earth with us as a man. 

Yes! (And oh dear God, help me to never be tempted by the deceitful security and comfort that those shackles sometimes seem to offer.  Help me keep my eyes on You and Your freedom.  I just want to walk - and serve - with You!).

Question:  What about you?  Would you like to join me in "not serving well"?  Let's do it together.  The "not serving well" family.  What do you think? :-)

Convincing others to join you in the adventure - or not

In yesterday's post, we talked a bit about that "wilderness feeling" that many believers experience when they move out from the institutional church as they seek to more fully follow Jesus and to
BE the church rather than GO TO church or DO church.  They are often very excited about the new possibilities, and look forward to being the church in the ways we see the New Testament
church in Acts and the epistles.  They are eager to share their dreams with their Christian friends.

But their friends - even close family - frequently do not share their enthusiasm.  In fact, those friends may turn away, not understanding why anyone would want to change the way things are, or may even be sure that traditional church practices are the right and best way.

What should you, as a Jesus-follower trying to follow Him more closely in a way that does not include many of the practices that have become an accepted way of doing church, do when other believers do not share your enthusiasm? 

I know from my own experience that it is tempting to do everything you can think of to get others to join you in this wonderful adventure.  You explain over and over the advantages.  You point out
all the problems you've discovered about "pagan Christianity."  You tell folks that they're really missing out on a truly close relationship with Jesus and others. 

You drag them along to a house gathering or a coffee-shop gathering or whatever expression of the church you think is most like the New Testament picture.  You drop in on them, or invite them out for coffee, or beg them to go out with you on the streets, or beg them to come over for a meal.  You want them, after all, to see how the church is a 7 days a week joyous reality.

But when they get tired of listening to you, when they resent you suggesting that their version of church is lacking or that their relationship with Jesus is lacking, when they get tired of you hanging around and disturbing their lifestyle, it isn't long before they start avoiding you - or come right out and tell you to leave them alone.

And you feel alone.  This great adventure is turning out to be a "lost in the wilderness alone" disappointment instead.  What to do?  You love your brothers and sisters in the Lord.  You want them to experience God's love in a greater way.  And let's face it, you don't like being alone.  But you don't want to go back to the old ways.  So what new ways can you think of to convince them to join you? 

In a post, "How can I get my (husband, wife, congregation, friends, family, etc) to..." [embrace my journey and accomplish what I want], Wayne Jacobsen suggests that maybe it isn't our job to get
others to join us on our journey.  Maybe we need to focus on living with Jesus ourselves, and ask God to help us love others better right where they are.  Maybe we need to let God do what He wants to do in their lives, instead of trying to manipulate them into doing/being what we think is best and right.

Wayne says we are excited about the fresh relational journey we are on, discovering how to live loved, and finding the institutional approach we've been involved in to be counterproductive to the community we desire...

Our first thought is how do we get others to embrace our journey and help us accomplish what we want. As noble as it may be, this approach never ends well. The moment we are trying to get someone else to see what we see, we become a manipulator of their journey, rather than a friend alongside them.

It is an impossible task to get someone else to come on this journey. That isn’t your job and others will only resent you when you try. All you need to do is go on this journey and in the going let God make you a better lover of [others right where they're] at.

You can’t drive people into love, you can only invite them. And you can live with Jesus all seven days of the week whether they desire to or not. Changing them is not the goal. Living free [in Jesus, yourself,] will have far more impact on you and them!

Questions:  What is your experience?  Have you wanted to convince others to join you because you believe it will be wonderful for them too - or even as a way for you to get past that lonely place?  If so, what have been the results?  Or have you found another way to move ahead in the journey?
 What (or Who?) is that way?

That wilderness feeling

THAT WILDERNESS FEELING
Like many folks who have moved away from traditional/legacy/institutional church, I too freely admit to going through a rather long "wilderness" experience. 

So many of my former "church family" just don't understand, and feel uncomfortable around me.  In many cases, it has turned out that we really didn't have much real relationship outside the church services and programs.  Also, because the last church I attended ended up closing due to many difficulties, there are folks who are hurt and just don't want to hang out with former fellow church members.  And of course I have had my own emotional issues which have caused me to
kind of cocoon.

For quite a while I have been part of a different "form" of church family, that is, a street outreach ministry. (You can also read about it in the "pages" listed at the top of this blog).  In the beginning, although it was less formal than traditional church, it still had many elements of "church life" with which I was familiar, like fairly frequent gatherings (Sunday morning breakfast gathering plus up to 4 or 5 morning coffee gatherings each week).  The Sunday morning breakfast gathering very often included a fair amount of prayer, teaching, and discussion.

But over the past year or so, we've dropped the weekday coffee times (much to my disappointment), and the Sunday morning breakfast has mainly been breakfast and providing clothing and such.  The "street pastor" has taken over the majority of the "prayer and counseling."  Now he and his family are
taking an extended break, and the ministry is "on hold."  Even the website, which I have been heavily involved with, I have been told to put "on hold."  A friend and I still go out and visit with the street family, but we are asked not to call it part of the street ministry. 

As you'll know from a post I wrote recently, this has all left me feeling very alone and even more "in the wilderness" than previously.  But I am beginning to understand that I have probably been hanging
on to the old traditional ways more than I have realized.  I am thinking now that Father is actually doing me a favour by weaning me away from these things I've hung onto, these familiar ways of "doing church" - which I know do get in the way of "being church." I am grateful for Father showing me this. 

I am also grateful for posts that other wilderness travelers have written.  It is good to know that I am not alone.  There are other brothers and sisters out there who have had their sense of community shattered, who have lost friends and lost their comfortable and familiar social life, and are feeling unchurched and alone. 

They too have discovered that so much of institutional Christianity has little to do with the church as the New Testament describes it, and little to do with true community and family centered in the love
of Jesus. Even though institutional church offers us a certain sort of parameters and structure, in which we have assigned roles and program-type "opportunities," they too have realized how constraining so many of those things are, how antithetical they are to the freedom in Christ which we are promised in scripture.

But like me, they too do not believe that we are meant to wander alone forever.  And many of them are learning, as they find themselves so alone, to truly listen to the voice of the Spirit, to reach out - often in sheer desperation - to the God who has called us to truly be His children and family, to walk together in relationship with Him and with each other through the love and life of Jesus.

In the next few posts, I will talk about some of the aspects of this wilderness time, and what I - and others - believe Father has in mind for us as we walk this journey.  One thing is certain - the
wilderness is not meant to be forever :-)  Our wonderful loving Father has glorious things planned for all His children.  But I'm thinking that sometimes we ourselves choose to stay in the wilderness far longer than we need to.  (More on that next time).

If you'd like to read what some others have shared about this topic, I highly recommend the following posts that have been helpful and encouraging to me.

"A Hole in my Heart" posted by Erin at communitas collective

"Tribe"  and "Imagining the Possibilities" posted by Jeff McQuilkin, also at communitas collective

Back and sharing some wisdom from the blogging family

Yesterday I was moaning about feeling lonely and cut off.  Then it occurred to me that maybe I could find some answers and encouragement from the family on-line.  Oh - and I also had a good chat with a brother here in the community - something I should have done sooner :-)

There was a time when I was an active blog reader and commenter. But in the past year I went through some issues that made it really difficult for me to interact through reading and writing.

However, I did try to keep an eye on some awesome blogs via Google Reader. Although I found it hard to focus on reading, and almost impossible to comment at the time, I did copy posts that I thought I would someday like to read and think about when I could focus more clearly.  The time has come!

So yesterday I went through my saved posts and organized them into topics.  Oh my goodness.  I have fifty folders.  And I also have 3 dozen articles saved that speak to the issues I raised in my post yesterday.  :-)

Just reading through them has been a big help, but I also want to share what I've learned in case there are others out there who are facing some of the same issues I have mentioned, such as:

• separation from church family members (for whatever reasons);
• loneliness
• missing the security and comfort that institutional forms of church offered but not wanting to go back there
• feeling like you're in a wilderness
• disappointment in seeing a close church family community seem to be drifting away from spiritual emphasis
• longing to serve
• feeling like the serving that you are doing right now is inadequate or ineffective or whatever.

I also will be linking to some of the posts that have been really helpful to me in sorting through these issues.  I am so grateful to brothers and sisters who share their understanding and care and encouragement through their blogs.  Sometimes it seems like past posts aren't of much use anymore.  But there's always someone looking for answers or encouragement, and those musty archived articles suddenly come back to life and reach out once again bringing sunshine into people's lives.

Keep posted.  I'm so delighted to be back!

feeling lonely and cut off

It's a beautiful sunny Sunday morning in mid-September.  The skies are clear blue, and the weatherman promises a 30 C afternoon.

For the past 3 or 4 years, I've spent nearly every early Sunday morning (6 am and onward) downtown at the street ministry breakfast gathering.  It's been the center of my church family.  A few weeks ago the street pastor announced that he needs to take a break, and that the breakfasts will be cancelled until ... well until he is ready to return.  In a few months, perhaps.

A friend and I are still going walkabout downtown on Tuesday morning, visiting with our street family members, sharing some breakfast-on-the-go goodies, that sort of thing.  And I visit some of the street family at their places or where I happen to bump into them, from time to time.

And I still have "Wednesday soup and sandwiches" at my house.  My Tuesday morning friend and some others drop in and we enjoy our time together.  Very casual, often picnic-style in the back yard, no agenda or plan.  Just trusting Father to lead the way He wants. 

But my street family friends rarely if ever come.  Perhaps because it's a long walking distance from where most of them live.  Perhaps because they feel uncomfortable coming into my house, which is no doubt a bit more middle class than they're used to.  That makes me feel kind of sad. 

They used to drop by my place when we lived downtown, and it was bigger and fancier than our little townhouse now.  On the other hand, it faced onto an alley rather than a tree--lined residential street.  It's a odd thing, I think, how we classify people and places by their environment, without bothering to really check them out.

But I digress.  I have to admit that I'm sometimes lonely.  I really miss my downtown family.  It's a long walk for me too.  I got myself a bike and a bike trailer so it would be closer.  I guess I should just get on it and go, right? 

Of course I have my excuses.  It's been hot and sunny, and the doctor says I'm to stay out of the sun, seeing as I have a history of melanoma.  My hubby works nights on-call, and I'm needed at home to answer the phone when his work calls (he sleeps right through phones ringing :-) ).  I have other things to do, like my blogs and tutoring and house keeping.  And being available to babysit my beautiful grandbabies when I'm needed.  And the street pastor worries about me, and tells me not to go on the streets by myself.  Though it's never worried me.  Still...

All my life, pretty near, Sunday was for church.  Even when I really wasn't following God, and had to go hung-over and all - though there was a period of time in my 20s when mostly I just didn't go.  But, as you'll know if you've explored this site at all, I haven't "gone to church" for several years.  On the other hand, I had my street church family and for a long time that was mostly more "real church" than I'd known in the past. 

Then about a year ago it seemed to start turning more and more into pretty much "just breakfast."  I think the pastor still did a lot of counseling and caring, and I think the family appreciated us being there and all.  But most of the prayer and discussion and all just kind of petered out.  Maybe it was partly "my fault" because I was struggling with some pretty deep depression and for a long time could only go sporadically and mostly just sit there wrapped up in my own little space.  And its taken a long time for me to move out of that space.

But now ... now I want to interact.  To share. To care.  To serve (beyond just preparing and serving food, and cutting hair, and such).  Actually, that is serving, I suppose.  But I want something more.  I want to talk about Jesus.  And talk to him together with others.  And that just doesn't seem to be happening.

I feel cut off.

Called

Over the past year, as I mentioned the other day, I've been in a kind of "wilderness" place ... or so it has seemed to me.  I've felt as if I have not been "spiritual" enough, perhaps, both in "devotional" terms and in practical "doing" terms.

Did I just use four Christianese-jargon-type terms in two sentences?  And put them in quotation marks, to top it off?  Egad.  Do forgive me, please!  :-)

So anyway, Father has responded.  Well, of course He has.  He responds.  Not as we expect, much of the time, but still.  This time He used two blog posts by different people.

The first post reminded me that living like a Christian and being a Christian are two very different things.  I know that, but somehow I seem to forget and get caught up in the "doing" - or at least in wanting to "do" when life's circumstances withdraw "doing" opportunities.  So God has gently pointed out to me that when He removes "doing" opportunities, it could be He is really gifting me with space to "BE."  Deeper relationship with Jesus arising out of times of solitude in which to hear from His Spirit. 

Kurt Willems at Red Letter Christians puts it this way:

"I’m done with living like a Christian.  I’m done serving the poor. I’m done going the extra mile....  I’m done visiting the sick.... I’m done loving my neighbor....

.... doing all these things won’t change the world.  That’s because the world can’t be changed unless God changes me....

I want to BE, and in the process, become a different kind of follower of Jesus....

So, yes, I’m done with living like a Christian.  I’m trading that in for living in a deeper relationship with Christ.  I want to know Jesus.  I want to hear Jesus.  I want to be empowered by Jesus.  Not simply in theory as I do the good things that he calls us to do, but as the natural outflow of intimacy with God.  The former way “gets the job done.”  The latter way changes the world."

The second post reminded me that I am not "called" to a particular ministry, or place, or job, or any of those other "callings" we often struggle so hard so discover.  My "calling" is not something for me, individually, that I must seek out.  As a believer, my calling is the calling of all believers.  It is not something we have to discover, but something that IS - and that fits right in with the BE.  Same verb!  And the longing of the One whose name is I AM. 

Sarah, at Emerging Mummy, says this:

"But we have been set apart already, by the very nature of our allegiance for the Kingdom.... we already know our calling.
And it's gorgeous and wide and meaningful and brave - right in the context and life that God has placed us.....
We are called to follow and love Jesus.
We are called to love mercy, to do justly and to walk humbly with our God.
We are called to the big nouns - like family and friendship and Church - and we are called to the big verbs - like forgiving, loving, serving, seeking, blessing. And we are often call to live out those enormous nouns and verbs in the smallest of places, making space for the Holy.
We are called to be the Image Bearers of God.
We are called to the poor and the fatherless, the widow and the hurting.
We are called to each other."
Yes.  We are called TO BE with He who is I AM.  That totally makes sense, doesn't it?

So okay.  No fear!

Overcoming my fears

Overcoming my fears?  What fears, you ask?

Primarily, my fear that I have nothing worth saying.  That there are so many great blogs out there, and so many bloggers with far more theological education, or much greater experience in church leadership, or - let's face it - just plain "better" spiritual lives.

I used to love to write about "my church journey" - and other aspects of my walk with God.  But for some time now, I've felt like I'm in a wilderness place, with nothing to write.  And yet, as you can tell with the hundreds of past posts on this blog (not to mention my website and other blogs), writing has been a lifelong passion.  And writing about my spiritual journey was center - here at the blog, in my numerous journals, in newletters and magazines.  But I've written almost nothing new for many months, other than the rare (limp) comment on other folks' blogs. And it's not just my writing on this blog that has "dried up." 

I haven't played my guitar or piano or clarinet, or even sung, for so long I can't remember the last time.  Years, at least 3 or 4, except for the odd moment.   And yet there was a time when music, especially "worship" music (hymns and choruses and all) was a wonderful part of my life.   Maybe a dangerously wonderful part, eh?

I have been reading my Bible only sporadically in the past many months, even with the hopeful motivation of a read-through-the-Bible-in-a-year plan.  And yet there was a time when I eagerly soaked up the words of God pretty much every day. 

My prayer life has changed too.  The thing is, I still hear Father.  I still sense His presence, in some ways more surely than ever before.  I talk with him informally about all kinds of things.  Sometimes we don't chat at all, at least not with words.  Sometimes, its like we're just comfortable being together (and yes, sometimes I do get distracted, unfortunately.  Sorry, Lord...).   Astonishingly, my husband has even been praying with us.  But when it comes to formal prayer (you know, "daily devotions" and such), it's been pretty much zero.  Though yesterday I had a little chat with Father via my journal - the first time in a long while.  It was nice.  Not "deep" perhaps.  But comforting, restful, leaning on Him, holding His hand, so to speak. 

And then there's the whole "gathering with the church" thing.  As anyone who's followed this blog in the past will remember, I was once a super-duper-involved-and-committed church member.  At one time, when my kids were teens, I attended 3 services each Sunday at different churches that my various kids preferred.  Then things changed, for a number of reasons.  I realized, with great joy, that Father loves me!  That Jesus loves me.  That the Holy Spirit loves me.  That I really am a beloved child of God. 

I kind of fell into gathering with a group of Christians who mostly were living on or near the street level (you can read some of their stories on my street church pages).  I loved the way they cared for each other, helped each other, shared with each other, even though most of them had so little to begin with.  I loved our Sunday morning breakfasts, and our weekday morning coffee times.  I loved our "church" conversations and study in the word, and prayer that happened so naturally.

We still do Sunday morning breakfasts, and I go out on the streets one or two mornings a week with a friend to share Father's love in whatever ways He shows us.  I visit sometimes in their simple homes or in the hospital.  But somehow, the natural gathering times seem to have dwindled.  And while I talk with the folks at the breakfasts and on the streets and in homes, it seems like my voice has dried up too - at least my ability to say anything much that is "spiritual." 

Hubby and I have opened our home every Wednesday evening for soup and sandwiches for whoever wants to drop in.  I invite my street friends but few come.  Maybe because it's too long a walk (although I offer to give them a ride).  But others come, mostly folks who used to be enthusiastic church-goers, but aren't so much (or at all) anymore.  Folks who kind of feel "lost" but don't know where to turn.  Like me, I guess.  Folks, a lot of them, who never really "fit in" to the church environment to begin with, perhaps?  We do really enjoy our times together.  Sometimes (occasionally) we have amazing times of prayer and discussion.  Sometimes we just enjoy each other's company.  For a few weeks we all cheered on our beloved Vancouver Canucks to that final fateful NHL final game. 

(Is that church?  If it is, why do we find it so hard to get together at other times?  What about some kind of "real service?"  Etc? )  (I've been longing, so much, for REAL fellowship with Jesus and His family.)  (Whatever that means?  Dear God?)

I have to say, at one time I had great dreams, high hopes, for the "alternatives" I saw (or perhaps hoped? envisioned? planned? oh dear...) Father leading me, out of the "traditional, institutional" church, and into daily gathering with brothers and sisters and Jesus.  Maybe that's still coming.  Or maybe what's coming is something I couldn't have "dreamed up" myself, at all.  Maybe something much better.  Something that is from Father, not me or anyone else, no matter how lovely some folks' ideas sound.  Something that is truly centered on Jesus  (how far, how very far, I still have to go in that department.  Sorry again, Lord).

Maybe Father has just had to first "dry out" all the stuff in my life that I've pictured as "spiritual?"  Maybe He's had to take away those things that I "loved," those things that I was "passionate about."  Those things that, yes, I was proud about.  Oh.  I see.  Thank You, Father.  Sorry.

It's easy to say that "It's all about You."  But hard for me to see when so much of it is still about me.  And my wants.

(I suppose my fear of not having anything worth writing about, my fear that others write better, my fear that I'm not as smart or educated or experienced or ... spiritual ... I suppose those fears come out of my pride, too?  Out of my "me?)