It hadn’t been an easy decision to leave a church I had
been a member of for almost 25 years. It wasn’t an out-of-the-blue decision but
something I had prayed about for a long time.
I was looking for God’s permission to leave, a direct word – “Thou shalt
go elsewhere…” but God doesn’t always do things that way. I had been so unhappy for so long and probably
did such a good job covering it all up. The
church had changed over the years and I had changed too but the paths we felt
called to follow were not the same. I
did not want to pull them on to my path but neither did I want to follow
theirs. It was an amicable parting and
we still have a proper going-away celebration to do. They are not a number-counting church family
and don’t see themselves as the ONE TRUE church in the city. If folk feel their
needs might be better met with another church family they are happy to see them
settled elsewhere.
If God grins at all He had a mile wide smile yesterday. I had planned to visit a few churches over
the summer holidays and see where I felt settled. My only stipulation was it had to be a church
where I wasn’t known. I didn’t want
people already slipping me into this church box ministry or the other. I wanted a new start, to be unknown and
welcomed as a stranger and then they could get to know me, if I stayed, and
slot me into a ministry, if I stayed.
I stepped through the door. The steward wasn’t known to me – a good
start.
“Mel?” I was
enveloped in an embrace with a lady who I hadn’t seen for at least ten
years. I knew her face and tried to hunt
down her name from the memory. My
husband said later (he had gone to St Mary’s, Rome, across the river) “We went
round her house for a meal. You took her to the Black Isle show!” That doesn’t guarantee
a name! Her husband gravely shook my hand and asked “Is Joe not with you?”
“Mel?” I turned around for another hug. The lady was one
of twins. I know them both but need to have
them both in front of me to know for sure who is who. “No Joe?” she added
“Mel?” This plan
of being unknown was rapidly unravelling.
The pastor’s wife is a regular at our fortnightly poetry nights at the
Sunset Café. She was delighted to see me
and did the “Joe not with you?” routine.
I couldn’t help spilling the information that he was scared of her! He had net her once at the poetry night and
found her to be more than a little overwhelming. They were on opposite sides of the Scottish
Independence vote and vocal with it.
“Mel?” The lady
serving coffees behind the counter was someone I knew from the “Women Aglow”
meetings held every month. She didn’t ask me about Joe having never met him.
“Mel?” I was standing with a cup of tea when the next
person sidled up. “Written any more
poetry?” It was the pastor this time who made it to the Sunset Café once in a
while.
Finally I sat down. I chose not to sit next to any of the
people who knew me.
The man in front of me turned around.
“Do we know each other?
I think we have met.”
I bit my tongue to stop myself from commenting that if he
didn’t know me he would be one of the few people in the room that didn’t. Everyone else seemed to know me.
“It’s possible.” I said vaguely. I thought about all the
fingers in all the pies I had in various things about the city and various
people that had been in my old church at one time or another and who had left
decades ago. It was possible.
“Millburn!” he said triumphantly. He did his probationary
year in the Tech department of my school a few year ago. He was teaching in a different school now,
enjoying the job, enjoying the holiday and about to head off to Romania for
three weeks to join his parents on the mission field.
The meeting ticked all the boxes. The worship stirred my spirit and made me quietly
cry. I felt myself unwinding slowly and
the stress of the last couple of years defused.
The word preached challenged me to really be still and to listen to
God. I can be still, but I don’t always
listen. It made me want to go back next week and share with the pastor what I
had heard God say in those still moments.
I felt as if I had fallen not among thieves, like the man
in the parable of the Good Samaritan, or among thorns, like the seed in the
parable of the Sower. I had fallen among
friends. Not such a bad place fall.
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