When the alarm chimes on my cell phone at four in the morning I peel my eyes open and argue in my mind for the first five minutes of my day with whether or not I should quit work. Of course, my mind of reason rolls me out of bed and into a shower where the sleep washes off. I fumble in the dark looking for clean undershirts and car keys before walking out the door and into the dark of the early morning hours. This all sounds bearable until a month has gone by and I find myself coming home, eyes glazed over, frustrated and uninspired.
I do my best to smile on my way to work saying “it’s not that bad” while offering up a weary morning prayer. Sometimes the sun is rising and I let the glow warm my face while the clouds change colors. Inevitably I end up thinking “doesn’t matter how pretty it is, I’d rather be sleeping.”
You are probably wondering where I am going with this. The initial point is that the first few weeks here in the valley have proven to be a treacherous walk, like running in front of a row of golfers at a driving range zipping line drives at your body; you will get hit.
But the weeks of early mornings, broken cars and stressful situations have made the simple and pleasant moments that much more extraordinary.
Monday night was such a moment:
Ashley and I had contacted a family who we had heard about a while ago. We had heard that they, amidst attempts and desires to move elsewhere, had been called to remain in the Valley to do kingdom work here. Their story reminded us of where we had come from and after a few emails Ashley and I pulled in to their current residence.
We weren’t really sure what to expect. We knew that these people had a heart for the Valley and for prayer, but we had to drop by their Monday night prayer meeting to really find out.
Sure enough, within minutes we were cradling chai tea and talking about our stories. We met a handful of other people who were like minded and before long we were reading, meditating and praying aloud.
The time of prayer was moving, energetic and emotional, leading us into petitions for New England, the local colleges, sex trafficking, our Church and the people of the area.
After a few weeks of conversations and near exasperation, we were ready for some time spent with people who desired to call out loud, from the depths of their hearts, to God. The passion for an outpouring of grace, mercy and justice was tangible. The time spent at the house of these prayers was powerful, uplifting and exciting, as it usually is when the body is brought together! It felt like church and that felt good.
I encourage you, if you are able, to meet once a week with some fellow Jesus followers to pray. Your community is in dire need of people who long after God’s heart. If you want, you can come to our house on Thursday night (probably Fridays following this week) and spend some time praying here.
There is an important lesson to take away from this- church is simple. It doesn’t have to be hard. I’ve known a lot of churches who let values like excellence and organization become stumbling blocks. Here’s a thought- hearts united in prayer and love is an excellent thing. And another- letting the spirit lead in prayer allows freedom for God to speak.
From what I have seen, church is just too hard sometimes. It becomes inaccessible and stubborn. People begin to feel stifled and frustrated. The spirit is put in a holding cell, on a short leash for brief appearances. Procedures and strategies are put into place before people even begin to mingle and develop friendships and life-sustaining bonds. Priorities need to be reordered.
Try something new. Just meet together to meet with God. Just cry out. Just be. Then see what happens. Let’s keep it simple.
