...live as though nobody may believe them."
I prayed the song "Your plans are for me. Goodness You have in store so Thy will be done" over and over again in a twenty minute period. When my phone rang and the voice on the other end told me the verdict, I immediately rebuked it. This was all a horrible dream. This cannot be happening. I have never experienced a broken heart before, but I swear in that moment, I felt my heart shatter into mere flecks of sand as I collapsed on the floor. I ached for my parents. As a protective (albeit, often unnecessary) force in their lives, I was ready to storm the gates. But I knew that the battle was lost. I ached for our friends and family that would be blindsided by this. I ached for the community that benefitted from the faithful and generous congregation. And, selfishly, I ached for my own healing.
It's not a secret that I have had my ups and downs with the church. I saw things happening that I didn't want to be a part of so I walked away. When my parents answered the calling to be pastors there, I was angry. I was hurt. I was completely selfish. Still I supported them because that's what my family does. The funny thing is, in my selfless act of supporting my parents as they tirelessly, faithfully, and joyfully served Mohawk, I found healing. So much so that I honestly didn't recognize myself at one point. I was a different person because I acknowledged that the work of the Lord was going to happen whether I approved or not. I could sit back with my arms crossed and criticize it, or I could join them. So I rolled up my sleeves. The hours we spent pouring blood, sweat, and tears into that building. The hours of prayer poured out over it. The lives that were changed because we offered a completely judgment-free zone and even the most squared peg could find comfortable seat and friend to sip coffee with. All of the good things this church did for people simply out of their genuine love for people. We may have been small, but we were a mighty congregation with a fierce love for God and others.
And, just like that... it's all gone. Without warning, preparation, prayerful consideration, or even a chance to breathe. The very thing that we held so dear, the people that brought joy, love, peace, friendship, healing.... the safe place where we could come together and worship our Creator....
But I was just reminded it was never ours. Yes, it was a place we could call ours, but it was always God's and it was used for His purpose. They may have turned our mics off halfway through the song, but there's still a song to sing. I just don't think our song is their song. It's no longer harmonious. And that's okay.
During the last episode of The Office, Creed said probably the most beautiful sentence I've heard. And it sums up exactly how I feel about the relationships we have made.
That being said, I'd like to express my gratitude. Thank you for the initial hurt that lead me to Mohawk. Thank you for the loving arms that welcomed me even when I didn't want them. Thank you for the complete transformation each and everyone of you contributed to. Thank you to the faithful, loyal, completely trustworthy people who have stood beside the pastor in agreeance.
But more than this, I want to thank Pastor Kevin and Lisa for everything. For every prayer prayed, for every tear shed, for every ounce of doubt and faith that drove you to continue faithfully serving. For every sleepless night. For every phone call. For every event planned. For your desire to not grow in numbers, but grow in our walk. For every stone you took for the sake of your flock. For every truthful sermon and encouraging word you spoke boldly over us while struggling with your own lives. "Thank you" is only scratching the surface of what I want to say.