A city and a lamp
We were gathered together in the dim light of our living room. Huddled together laying hands on 3 friends leaving DCF- one of those leaving our house church after sticking around for 5 years. There were tears slipping from our eyes, faint sniffles, and peaceful smiles. We lifted up prayers and blessings over our friends as they leave this place they've called home for so many years.
The large windows facing the street were wide open to outsiders. The blinds were up inviting all eyes to look in upon us. To look upon the most intimate of times for our house church. This is what a house church does. It is a an intimate spiritual family. We laugh together We mourn together. We eat meals. We tell funny stories. We sing songs. We break bread. We pray. We read the Word. We extend grace.
We do it in the home- it is a house church after all. Those open blinds invite you into the most vulnerable space I have- my home. It is the place where I say selfish things to my husband, were dust clumps and dog hair find refugee in lone corners, where I let dirty dishes pile up, where I get grouchy when I am hungry, where I sit and think and cry and wonder. I can't just put a smile on my face and fake like I could it in a large church building on a Sunday morning for one or two hours. You catch me here at the end of a long day. Maybe a good day. Maybe a bad day.
Our little house at the top of the hill with our windows wide open in the dark night reminded me of how Jesus says we are to be a city on a hill, a lamp on a stand that shines. By His grace, we can be those things. In a dark world, church can be a safe place to let your guards down. A place to find brothers and sisters.
People come and people go, but it always hard to see ones who have been there faithfully every week and who truly come to see the house church as family finally leave this place. We've had to say goodbye to 2 other good friends this summer and it has not been easy.
I'm quite sad to see my good friend, Morgan, go. If you came to house church, she might not be the first face your meet nor be the loudest nor make the biggest first impression, but come to know her gentle spirit- and you will not forget her. She is faithful, loyal, thoughtful, serving, funny, and wise. She lived with us for about 2 months in the fall and I came to love doing "normal things" with her around. That's when I realize I've made a good friend. When we can sit in the same room and do our own thing, sit at the kitchen table and not have to fill every moment with words, when we can team up and cook incredible meals together. I know she feels at home here when 7 months after living with us, she still has our house key and sometimes I come home and see her car in the driveway and find her sitting at our kitchen table just reading a book.
I'll miss you Morgan. Go be that city on a hill, that lamp on a stand in a new (or old to you) place. Peace of Christ sister.
The large windows facing the street were wide open to outsiders. The blinds were up inviting all eyes to look in upon us. To look upon the most intimate of times for our house church. This is what a house church does. It is a an intimate spiritual family. We laugh together We mourn together. We eat meals. We tell funny stories. We sing songs. We break bread. We pray. We read the Word. We extend grace.
We do it in the home- it is a house church after all. Those open blinds invite you into the most vulnerable space I have- my home. It is the place where I say selfish things to my husband, were dust clumps and dog hair find refugee in lone corners, where I let dirty dishes pile up, where I get grouchy when I am hungry, where I sit and think and cry and wonder. I can't just put a smile on my face and fake like I could it in a large church building on a Sunday morning for one or two hours. You catch me here at the end of a long day. Maybe a good day. Maybe a bad day.
Our little house at the top of the hill with our windows wide open in the dark night reminded me of how Jesus says we are to be a city on a hill, a lamp on a stand that shines. By His grace, we can be those things. In a dark world, church can be a safe place to let your guards down. A place to find brothers and sisters.
People come and people go, but it always hard to see ones who have been there faithfully every week and who truly come to see the house church as family finally leave this place. We've had to say goodbye to 2 other good friends this summer and it has not been easy.
I'm quite sad to see my good friend, Morgan, go. If you came to house church, she might not be the first face your meet nor be the loudest nor make the biggest first impression, but come to know her gentle spirit- and you will not forget her. She is faithful, loyal, thoughtful, serving, funny, and wise. She lived with us for about 2 months in the fall and I came to love doing "normal things" with her around. That's when I realize I've made a good friend. When we can sit in the same room and do our own thing, sit at the kitchen table and not have to fill every moment with words, when we can team up and cook incredible meals together. I know she feels at home here when 7 months after living with us, she still has our house key and sometimes I come home and see her car in the driveway and find her sitting at our kitchen table just reading a book.
I'll miss you Morgan. Go be that city on a hill, that lamp on a stand in a new (or old to you) place. Peace of Christ sister.
Kimberly, this made me cry. Also, you are such a good writer, and I love your blog (and you of course).
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