The Gathering

The Gathering

Sunday nights our church has started a new meeting- they call it the gathering and it happens once a month.  This is the place where I started dancing in church… (oh, I haven’t told you about my DANCING???  I haven’t yet explained to you how I’ve become a crazy person?  Shocking…can’t believe you’ve missed out on THAT…)

So last Sunday…

Well, let me say this first: I have loved the gathering.  I have loved the freedom that has blown through the place, blessing adults and children alike.  I have LOVED the testimonies from everyone in the audience- about what God has done in their lives, in the lives of others, what He’s challenging us on, the sharing of visions received, the prayer for each other.  The children running around, dancing to the worship, present as an important part of the body of Christ-  it’s all been wonderful.

But last Sunday my spirit was bothered.  I don’t know if it was because Justin was there and I cared so much about what he thought, or that another friend was there who I know to be critical, or if it was truly different than the other Sundays. 

But I left thinking: our church is so insular.  So narrowly focused on how our own silly and beautiful lives are being made right.  So focused on how our personal righteousness is shaping up, on rejoicing that someone is in church(!), that we have been given more money(!), etc… it felt so infantile.  Such small and silly measures of faith, such a team trying to psych each other up. Why is that bad?  I haven’t quite fleshed that out…

So I’d been praying a lot.  And I had written in my journal, after a few pages of wrestling with these feelings and thoughts: “God, I want to be my most creative, authentic, loving self. Make me a Being of Light, so that the Love that will meet us in Heaven is down on earth for everyone around me.”

And two mornings later, forgetting I had penned those words, I met Misty.

Sunday nights our church has started a new meeting- they call it the gathering and it happens once a month.  This is the place where I started dancing in church… (oh, I haven’t told you about my DANCING???  I haven’t yet explained to you how I’ve become a crazy person?  Shocking…can’t believe you’ve missed out on THAT…)

So last Sunday…

Well, let me say this first: I have loved the gathering.  I have loved the freedom that has blown through the place, blessing adults and children alike.  I have LOVED the testimonies from everyone in the audience- about what God has done in their lives, in the lives of others, what He’s challenging us on, the sharing of visions received, the prayer for each other.  The children running around, dancing to the worship, present as an important part of the body of Christ-  it’s all been wonderful.

But last Sunday my spirit was bothered.  I don’t know if it was because Justin was there and I cared so much about what he thought, or that another friend was there who I know to be critical, or if it was truly different than the other Sundays. 

But I left thinking: our church is so insular.  So narrowly focused on how our own silly and beautiful lives are being made right.  So focused on how our personal righteousness is shaping up, on rejoicing that someone is in church(!), that we have been given more money(!), etc… it felt so infantile.  Such small and silly measures of faith, such a team trying to psych each other up. Why is that bad?  I haven’t quite fleshed that out…

So I’d been praying a lot.  And I had written in my journal, after a few pages of wrestling with these feelings and thoughts: “God, I want to be my most creative, authentic, loving self. Make me a Being of Light, so that the Love that will meet us in Heaven is down on earth for everyone around me.”

And two mornings later, forgetting I had penned those words, I met Misty.