New Beginnings

Maybe a bit of explanation is in order. Maybe I should stop quibbling and come out with the honest truth. Our landlords evicted us from our lovely little house, stating "a new business venture" as their only reason. With an utter lack of other options, we moved in with my father's parents. This has been a mixed bag of good and bad things.

Because my father's parents' home is an hour away from our previous home and our home church, we had to take our leave of the church that's been more than a home and more than a family to me for the last four years. 

They gave us a reception after church a week ago today, featuring a laying-on-of-hands, a tie-dyed cake, and a lot of tearful goodbyes. I never realized people I'd known for so short a time could mean so much to me. I never realized it would be like pulling out a part of myself to say goodbye. I never realized the impact they'd had on me, or I on them, or how important it is to say everything you need to say. I feel like there are some things I left unsaid. But Brandon hugged me goodbye and Stephen would've if I'd let him. Corinne cried and made me cry; and Joy stood next to me the whole entire time talking about almost nothing, pretending her husband wasn't itching to leave. And then I cried myself into a piercing headache on the way home and slept for most of the afternoon and that was a week ago today.

This morning I got up and dressed like a person and we all piled into the car and drove to a brick building five minutes down the road. It's a new church, a church plant, meeting in a very old, pews-and-vaulted-ceilings building. I know what that feels like.

As wrong as it might be, I'm tired. I didn't want to go. But I did.

 ~~~

Pull in the driveway. Conspicuous. Surprised face in the parking lot. I know the thought process. Are they lost? No, they're coming here. Wonder how many? Will they come back? Quick, smile. Shake hands.
Where should we park? Is this okay? Shuffle through the door. Smile. Shake hands. Forget their names as quickly as they forget mine.
             "I'll never remember them all. I might ask again."
Table of donuts. Juice and coffee. Awkward laugh at an awkward joke. Oh, look, the praise band. Skinny jeans. Boots and scarf. Jacket's too tight. Beard and button up, hipster Jesus. Fitted t-shirt, worship leader. Smile. Shake hands.
Find a pew. Did we steal someone else's? No, no dirty looks. Stand and sing. Don't know the tunes, easy enough to guess.  They're clapping. Can I clap? Do I have the right? Clap and sing a song I don't know. Keep on beat. Words. Worship words. I want to worship. My feet want to move. My hands want to rise. Can I worship? Do I have the right?
Familiar words touch old hurts. Not ready for this yet. Still sore. Sing. Worship. Don't think too hard. Don't cry. Not a good time to cry. 
             "And then we'll have a time of meet and greet."
Sinking feeling. Shake hands. Forget names. Smile. People are the same everywhere. 
Communion. Will they let us take? Should we take? Okay, pass the plate, don't spill. Wait? Don't wait? Don't wait.
Offering. Wish I could give something. Wish I weren't broke. Wish somebody wasn't broke.
           "And the conclusion of our series on David..."
My luck. Just my luck. Last of a series. This always happens to me. Psalm 23. I can do Psalm 23. Oh, it's the sheep sermon. And he has a lisp. They all have a lisp. Little church laugh at sermon jokes. Take notes. Smile.

Closing song. Shake hands. Smile.  
          "Hope we see you again."
                       Maybe.
And all the while, my eyes like magnets to the plaque in the corner.

El-Roi. The God Who Sees Me.

Hagar's name for God. My name for God.

My God.

My God is the same here as He has been everywhere else I've ever been.

My God is here.

My God sees me.

My God.

Don't think too hard. Don't cry. Not a good time to cry. 

~~~