short leash

I will admit this: I'm on a short leash. And honestly, I'm grateful. I remember tearing out of bed one morning, choking down coffee and throwing on jeans and a tee-shirt (while Matt did the same) to make it to the Houston Vineyard on time for worship. Not just to participate in worship, but to lead worship as a part of the band. We lived three blocks away and slept until about 15 minutes before soundcheck. Now, this is the Vineyard. Jeans and tee-shirt- just fine. Bedhead-- no problem. It isn't a Vineyard church if at least one Pastor isn't wearing flip flops.

So, tearing out of bed to get to soundcheck on time I realized something. We probably would have slept through both services if we weren't playing on the worship team. This is awful, right? Only making it to church on time if I'm singing, or serving, or needed in some way? Shouldn't church leaders be the ones who are there every time they open the doors, early and eager?

Maybe yes maybe no. At the time, our marriage had just suffered a pretty significant blow. We'd been married two years and the issues that had been there before we got married- well, they'd just gotten worse. Heated to boiling. Someway, somehow- just on the other side of this crisis point, our friend Shae Cottar asked us to join the worship team at the Houston Vineyard. Matt had been making his living, though with considerable difficulty, as a touring drummer. He was, and is, and incredible musician. The offer came with a promise of hot coffee and community but no paycheck. Though I was not a professional musician at the time, and had no problem volunteering, I knew it would be hard for Matt. A caveat- he'd learned to play drums as a teenager in this very same church. Then left Houston, and the church (well, all church) for about 10 years.
I'd been going to the Houston Vineyard on and off by myself for most of the first two years of our marriage. People would often ask me if I was single. It was painful.
I'm not even really sure how Shae knew we were even Christians. But he invited us in, and so really, he invited us into what would become the call on our lives. To lead worship, to play music together. TOGETHER. That's what God had for us. And it took a volunteer opportunity in our local church, (a church we were rarely on time for, but who loved us just the same) to show us that. Seven years later Matt and I are worship pastors and songwriter's. He is an accomplished record producer. He uses his gifts to help artists and musicians shape their songs and lives.

If God hadn't opened up that opportunity to serve--we would likely have not even gone to church, let alone shaped our lives around serving the church. It all just sparkles with God-personality. Humor. Patience.

I give you all this back story to say simply, that I've been tugging at the leash for the last three weeks. Having left my job at Grace, I've had some 'time off'. For the first time in 5 years I haven't spent all day every day at a church. I've spent a week with intellectuals, writer's!, at a workshop at U of H. Dipping a toe or two in the fountain of academia, flirting with graduate school; a interesting idea I am still flirting with. But suddenly, I was a fish out of water, and I allowed myself to doubt, for the first time in a very long time. Spending time with poets made me realize that I had been on auto-pilot as a Christian. Quipping slogans and trying to believe them. Could I go back?

Full of humor and patience, God sent me there. To the writer's workshop. A chance encounter, led to a narrowly missed discovery matched with impeccable timing and there I was. Only God could organize something so flawless and unlikely. He knew what I needed, and how I would best receive it- he released me to wander (though only a few miles east)- and process. Jesus stuff was everywhere. At the workshop I mean. And not in a religious manifestation - like seeing the Virgin Mary in a water stain on the ceiling- but in everyone's work. Tortured, wrestling, hurting, searching, grappling, hiding- all of it - with "Jesus stuff." I felt like the most well adjusted person there. I felt so grateful that I knew what I knew. And I believed. I needed to wander to be reminded. I smiled to myself all week about that.

It's like this- I will let my daughter grow up and be her own person, make her own choices. I will do this, though every fiber in my being wants to protect her, keep her safe, limit her choices and therefore limit the potential for pain. But I know, because I love her, she will have to figure it out for herself. And if I let her wander just a few more steps, she'll come running back to me by her own choice. Eager to show me what she'd seen and learned.

So at the end of this week, I will return to work for the church. It's a different church, it's ecclesia. It's the place I've gone to worship on Sunday evening, often by myself, for the better part of eight years when I wasn't serving somewhere else. It's a place I'd gladly volunteer. It's a place I'd take out the trash if it was full. It's a place that makes getting out of bed at 6:15 on Sunday morning sound like a great idea.