The After

"When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, "Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.” Fred Rogers

Here in the south, we pride ourselves on our ability to jump in and help.

Your getting married- I will throw you a shower.

 You just had a baby- I have organized a meal train.

 You've adopted a child- hello, here I am with an airport sign.

(dear church new baby ministry, these people would REALLY love your dinner too please)

You lost a loved one- and I've got a casserole.

 And if God forbid you have made a social faux pas, we've  got a saying, "Bless your heart". 

All of this is well and good. Essential to survival in these times actually. But the past couple of days, I've been thinking much more about 'the after'...

The after of  friends struggling through marriage many years down the road. The after of personally experiencing the work it takes to keep a marriage strong. The after of trying to raise a daughter  in comparison to that newborn we brought home almost 8 years ago. The after of children still learning trust and acceptance after spending their first months and years without parents to show them love. And most recently, thinking of the after for my dear friend as she mourns the sudden death of her young brother. 

So I am asking myself, who am I in The After? Who is wading in it right now and needs that phone call, that offer to babysit, that extra prayer,  that spontaneous act of kindness? We are surrounded by people drowning in the after. Let's go beyond helping and just sit with those that need us.

Stand Awhile

I have all the wrong words. There is nothing to say.

I only have sorrow for your pain. 
We text, we call, we offer to pray. 
And yet it remains.
So I will stand here beside you, from miles away.
In the days to come, we will try.
Flowers delivered. Casseroles made.
Prayers unending
And yet it remains.
So I will stand here beside you, from miles away.
I will stand here awhile.
As long as you need it friend, I will stand.

What If? You've Got A Home

A vision for the church...

We had just moved into a very old log house in the country with woods surrounding us. I'm not sure how long we had lived there, but I knew it was new to us as we were talking about the first big storm that was heading our way. As the storm began, it came as heavy rain. The walls of our home began to leak water, but we were thankful that we were still very warm. Our home was located near an area with many hikers and as the rain turned to snow and ice, the hikers began to seek shelter. A group of them knocked on the door. As we answered, they said, "Oh, I'm sorry. Our guide book says this is an old church. We didn't know it was your home and we were just looking for shelter out of this storm." I hear myself say, "No, sorry. There is no church here." They nod with understanding and turn to go back into the raging storm. And then the spirit moves. "Wait", I shout. "Our home can be a church for you. A church for anyone who needs it." 

As I awoke from this dream that felt so deeply like a vision, I began to ponder what it might mean if we view our home...our workplace...our car...as a church to welcome anyone in from the storm?



"You've Got A Home" by Christa Wells
Mountains melt into valleys and you suddenly find yourself in shadow lands
where all of life seems out of your hands.
Don't think you've got no one left.
Here's a key to my front door.
Got a pillow if you lost yours.
You got a seat at my table.
You've got a home.
Here's somebody who believes you.
Let the truth remind you, you've always got a place to go to.
You've got a home.