My latest church newsletter I’m grateful for several sightings of life abundant in our midst lately. I spent time with a young woman recently who has felt rejected by other churches. She has been homeless at times after a heart-breakingly difficult upbringing. She is student age now, but not in school, she is working to stay housed, to make money to return to community college. She came to our church promising to give Christianity one last chance, but no more. I asked what we did to help her meet Jesus anew, become part of a church again, find her way into a job, to housing. “You let me be who I am,” she said. Seems simple, but it’s life-changing. And we are really good at that. Our community in Todd, Blackburn’s Chapel, continues to bear fruit in ways we couldn’t have planned. Recently two college students stood and testified about the change in their lives from attending our church there. One has been our piano player for worship. She brought her friend, and both have found faith again in ways they did not anticipate. Blackburn’s is starting a new Sunday School class. It’s aimed at longtime Todd residents, not really at the student demographic. But both girls told Pastor Brandon they’d be back for the first Sunday School class. “We can’t wait,” they exclaimed. This worshiping community of ours, which costs not a single dime to our Boone campus, continues to bear fruit for us. We recently had our annual fall Bazaar, and every year I hear new stories of faithfulness from our 30year history. Ron Henries told me of a woman years ago whose family lost everything in a fire. She turned up with an empty station wagon and returned home with it full, on us. The Bazaar is about more than the money we raise to reduce our debt and the tithe of our earnings we give for local missions. It is also about the huge amount of grace we invest in our community through gift cards to local social workers and charities. I met one family that weekend whom I had previously invited to worship. She said she would attend sometime, but has not yet on Sunday morning. Then there they were in our building—for the Bazaar. Clearly this was an easier first step than coming for a worship service. A step offered for them to climb toward God, by virtue of a sale that turns garbage into mission. Amazing. I met with a man lately whose family is moving toward joining our church. He had a few questions. He has doubts at times. He’s not near as good as he feels Christians should be. And he has had other churches look down on him. I was proud to report that our church is really good at not being judgmental, at accepting all people wherever we are. “Everybody everywhere matters,” we say, and believe, and act accordingly. He cried a little. “You really mean you think your church would have me and my family?” Yes, I replied, because Jesus adores you all and wants to draw closer to you. I’ve rarely felt more proud of our congregation. Except maybe this one time. We’ve all heard about the tragic death of Anna Smith at Appalachian. Her family had her confirmed in a Methodist congregation in the High Point area. And the day after her body was discovered, her father worshiped in our church. He told me how grateful he was for ours as a place of refuge for him. I expressed our sorrow to him, and our admiration at his courage for coming to worship. He told me about the tattoo she had, visible in her photos. “Contrary to popular belief, she did not get that to please her father,” he joked. It was a sunflower. She had considered this carefully—a sunflower can grow alone or in groups, it turns and faces the sun all the time. “And I came into your church today and saw that beautiful arrangement of sunflowers,” he said (thank you Mary Carolyn Abernathy and God bless you Cheryl Marshbanks, in whose honor they were there!). He saw those flowers and gave thanks. Signs of life are all around us. Let’s stop and give thanks occasionally. And keep turning toward the sun.
Posted on: Fri, 26 Sep 2014 00:07:02 +0000