07/26/2021
I've had a weird relationship to our church the past few years, and although I hope no one around me caught any whiff of it, I'm fairly certain I haven't hidden it well. Simply put, I've felt adrift. I've known with deep certainty how I'm to serve the larger church, but our local one? That's been a big ball of confusion and uncertainty.
So I went into sabbatical with that lingering question: "Lord, how do you want me to serve our church?" I'll be honest: I didn't expect an answer. I've been asking that question of the Lord for several years, jumping in where I've had opportunity but never able to shake the uncertainty.
One of my favorite things about taking a sabbatical is getting to visit different churches--to do that strange thing called "walking in and walking out whenever you want to," to worship in another church's tradition, to see that the Lord is at work in all kinds of ways in all kinds of off-the-map places.
The first Sunday of our sabbatical we went to a small, tucked-away church, the kind where the pastor opens the floor during the service, the kind where we were asked to stand and introduce ourselves.
I spotted the pastor's wife before anyone told me who she was. I just knew. And of course she was so kind to introduce herself before sitting at the piano to play while her husband led us in singing.
I watched her the entire service, just as I hope no one ever does me. I watched her children. I watched her husband. I watched others watching her.
I watched her because she exuded love and joy. She loved me in kindness. She clearly loved worshiping God. And she loved the people in that church.
I've spent so many years trying to figure out the tasks I can do for God, as if I work for him and am up for a yearly review soon but haven't fulfilled my job description. In that church service, in the face of that pastor's wife, I remembered that if I don't love, I can do it all but end up doing nothing.
And that was my answer, an answer so simple and freeing that it made me chuckle out loud during the closing song. Just love. Just, "Love."
I'd forgotten.
But I've come home, remembering.
P.S. I've had several questions about how we did a sabbatical. I'll be sharing answers to sabbatical questions on my Instagram stories tomorrow. Come find me: www.instagram.com/christinehoover98
