Wednesday, March 30, 2011
When I was young, there was a tiny little church that we would pass on our way to my Granny's lake cabin. It was a small chapel in the middle of nowhere. Once I asked about it, and someone explained that it was a place where people could go to pray. . I really liked that idea. . I still do. . The idea of a quiet and peaceful place set aside for prayers. It looked welcoming. Something reminded me of that little church today. And I thought about churches. And welcoming. And quiet peaceful places for prayers. . Is your church one of those? . Is mine? . What if I was a road weary traveler? And I came upon a church. Could I enter? During "business hours," sure. Or, maybe. Otherwise the doors are locked. Because someone might try and steal the sound system. Or the computers. Or the money. Or the stuff. Because stuff is really important. We can't have people stealing our stuff. I mean, God's stuff. He needs us to lock up tight so the bad guys don't come and spray paint graffiti on the cross. . We can't have that. . No sir. . No. As long as it's during regular business hours. Without ill intentions. With shoes and a shirt. A modest shirt. And no weird piercings or tattoos. . Um, and if you borrow a book, please fill out the proper form. We're going to need it back...and if you want to use room 430, you'll need to reserve it 2 weeks in advance and make sure you have approval from committee 54C. . . . . But how do I really feel? . . . . My Cute Jesus. . That's how I feel. My Cute Jesus fits in a box that I've labeled "My Dad was loving and my mom stayed home and fed us properly and my husband is good to me and my kids are obedient and my house is clean and I don't say bad words and I try not to gossip and I wear turtleneck sweaters and say please and thank you." So. Naturally. I love Jesus. Because. . Just because. Life has been good to me. And for that I am thankful. But because of that can I empathize? Can I love? Can I reach out and love someone? Someone whose dad wasn't loving? Whose husband is cruel? Who doesn't wear turtleneck sweaters? Who comes to pray past business hours? . Oh Dear God. Crack me wide open.