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Monday, October 5, 2020

going to church together



we grew up going to church with our grandparents. i don't know about my siblings, but i can say with absolute certainty that, as a child, it was something i completely took for granted. we were always there together — siblings, parents and grandparents and sometimes even my aunt, uncle and cousins. my grandpa often lead prayer or bible readings from the pulpit and my grandmother was the church organist for as long as i can remember. it was a small church and so our big family all played an essential part. i’m pretty sure, at one point, my siblings and i made up over half the youth group. it was the church where i got to be mary in the christmas program and so did my younger sister the following year. there wasn’t a lot of competition. i can’t sing worth a lick, but, yep, it was this church which granted me the chance to sing a solo and, more than once, a duet with my sister or friend beth (she and her brother were the other half of our youth group ... and i'm sure she got to be mary in the christmas program at least one year too).


growing up, that was church for me. 


today the way we attend church in our family looks different. it’s great and we love it dearly, but it doesn’t include grandparents or extended family for us. not ever. we attend a big church in atlanta about 700 miles away from my parents. we haven’t gone to church with them regularly in over 20 years. and sometimes that makes me incredibly sad. there’s something about the gift of worshipping with family — grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. like when i was growing up — generations piled into a pew.


i have no one to blame but myself. we were the ones to move away. 


we came south two decades ago with the plan to stay only a little while and here we still are. and sometimes i look around and see big extended families at church together or brunch together or holidays together and i physically grieve for the fact that my own is so scattered across the united states — north, south, east and west.


i’ll sometimes send my family sermons or encourage them to listen to something inspirational, but it’s not the same. 


however, this weekend it occurred to me that 2020 has given me a gift where church and family are concerned. 


i’ve heard many descriptions of this infamous year. i’ve seen the memes and the t-shirts and the social media posts. people want to skip it. end it. abolish it altogether. they want to put up the christmas tree and call it a year. fast forward the remaining calendar months and move on to 2021. i get it. i feel similar. it’s been one for the record books. and, october or not, it doesn't feel close to being over. 


i don’t disagree with all the frustration and negative feelings, but i do think this year has been a good teacher of how to look for silver linings. and this past weekend one of them became clear to me. 


because of covid-19 and churches closing down for a bit we’ve been watching our perimeter church online and many sundays my parents have chosen to listen to our atlanta church as well. even though they are up in ohio we’ve had the chance to experience the same preaching because of online church. this past sunday, after the service was over, my dad texted me something from the sermon and i about burst into tears. there’s something to be said for sharing worship and God’s word with loved ones. near … or far. 


i don’t have a lot of good to say about the year 2020, but i do know that if we look hard enough we can find some blessings in all of this craziness. and finding those just might be key to making it through. 


i woke this morning with new resolve to be more open to what God will do with the hard things in this year. what gifts does He have for us? what good things can be unearthed when hearts are willing to see? He has shown Himself faithful in hard places before. Hard can, and often does, become Holy when we are willing to see it through the lens of our Holy God. 


i think of that verse in genesis when joseph had an exceptionally bad year — many years, actually. you know, the year when his brothers sold him into slavery and completely turned their backs on him. the year that while a slave in egypt, he found himself framed for a crime he didn’t commit. the year he was thrown unjustly into prison. yes, it’s pretty safe to say, it was his worst year ever. but when he finally came through it and came face to face with his brothers, he rejected all bitterness and, instead, saw it through the lens of his Holy God and embraced his family with these words:

“you intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.” genesis 50:20



i know things are hard. i know 2020 has been an absolute mess. i know there’s fear and frustration and anxiety and anger all rampant and on the rise. but even now, 7 months in, let’s keep our eyes and hearts open to finding something worth celebrating. 


and let’s worship … together …  the One who can and will make it good. 


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