I enjoy church. I hear the statistics about the low percentage of twenty- and thirty-somethings who attend, and I understand their resistance. I've been there, too. But the habit of attending a church regularly, the music & ritual of it, the fellowship & stale cookies of it, is so familiar & wonderful that I can't help but desire it.
And now, for the first time in my adult life, we have found a church that I feel really excited about attending every week. So excited about it, in fact, that when we can't attend for some reason I actually feel like I'm missing out and want to know what I missed - what if that was the sermon that would have changed my spirit in a meaningful way?
I've loved other churches too - so, friends & family reading this who were members with me at any time in the past, don't feel slighted. But the church we've found here in GR has, I think, ALL of the things we sought: a choir & developed music program, a well-equipped nursery & education system for the little ones, the consciousness about social justice and environmental stewardship that we strive for, the celebrative acceptance of diversity, the insightful & spiritually stirring sermons (spiced with wit and humor)...I could go on.
However, even though Simon is gleefully occupied during the service, Anson is a squirmy and sometimes chatty (as only he can be) almost four-month-old, and certainly provides a level of distraction that competes with my determined attentive worshipfulness. I know the sermons are good, but I rarely hear & register the whole thing.
Long ago, I learned to seek nuggets. Nuggets of truth and joy and inspiration. I didn't realize till we were driving away from church yesterday that it was another "nugget" day. I don't remember what the sermon was about, and I think we were less than devout during the communion, but I took home a nugget I didn't expect. It was a frequently (but indirectly) repeated nugget about "home."
In the announcements we heard about how several families had lived in the church basement all week as part of our agreement in the Interfaith Hospitality Network (IHN) and could a few people grab some bags of laundry to wash & return?
In a prayer the pastor prayed for people who don't have a home to return to - like hurricane victims.
In the sharing/caring prayer requests, a woman asked for prayer on behalf of everyone who was struggling with unemployment, mortgage burdens, etc. in this difficult economic/housing situation.
And I thought, "Oh, that's us." But then I realized that we DO have a home to return to. We aren't homeless or without resources & support. We don't have to live in a different church basement every week with volunteer congregants washing our bedding. And I felt ashamed of my attitude.
It IS hard to have a baby and then move right away. It's contrary to the "nesting" instinct of a mother. It IS hard to live across the country from the house we're paying a mortgage on, and it IS hard to feel stuck about buying a new, settled home till that one sells. It IS hard to realize that we don't have control over someone buying the house. It IS hard to job hunt, especially when you're trying to transition from one field of work to another. Yes, there are several challenges in our situation.
However, the nugget I took home from church yesterday was a nugget of contentedness. I felt humbled by my wealth - of support, family, education, opportunity. I could count my blessings here for you, but you know what they are - and could probably count a similar list of blessings in your life.
And even though it's legitimate for me to acknowledge the difficulty of being so unsettled, I'm not living in church basements or sports arenas or refugee camps like so many people all across the country & world. I even have a reliable phone, a mailing address (if temporary, at least it works to reach us) and the internet. Hoo, boy! I'm spoiled!
Thank you, God, for the nugget. I needed a little perspective & awareness about my situation. I'd been starting to feel like it was too bleak to tolerate - but what was I thinking? I'm blessed and blessed and blessed.
And before I sign off, I have to throw in here a little pause for gratitude toward my spouse. One of the major personality/temperament differences between us is that I am constantly striving for the next tier of excellence and he is more regularly content with the present. This causes some dramatic conflicts between us. Yesterday as my heart & soul shifted to a more humble, grateful tier, I realized that I was feeling a little more like Adam. Content. And humbled to realize that sometimes he might be right. Sometimes it's better to simply, contentedly, stay where you are.
I went to see Hillary Clinton on Saturday. It was an outdoor event (somehow I missed THAT fine print & ended up with a very lopsided sunburn) at Central High School, and it was pretty fun. 
We were given signs. Mine's in my car window now.
The crowd, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the main speaker - Hill.
I felt a little out of it a few times b/c it was clear that many (most?) of the people there had been Hillary supporters before Obama became the nominee. I wasn't. I didn't love Hillary compared to Barack, and I certainly didn't vote for her in the primary. But it was high energy on Saturday, lots of hype and suspense, and Hillary really is charming and eloquent.
At one point, she said: "I realize I'm preaching to the choir here." And followed it up with my favorite (and one of the more memorable, for me) lines yet: "Now I need you to go out there and be the choir - go sing this song to your friends & neighbors & everyone you meet." Creative - and inspiring - metaphor.
But now, on to the main event. I just got an email about Barack Obama coming on Thursday - and I aim to be just as close for photo ops there. :) Check back Friday for pictures!
