Stumbling Toward God?

That’s right kids, FOUR posts this week. As many as all of Sept-Dec combined.

Earlier this week, a certain individual gave his “letter of resignation,” if you will, to my church group. People seem to have gotten worked up about it. Me? I was trying to take advantage of the holiday break to quietly slip away.
“So you’re quitting?”
“Not really… I’m just not gonna go.”

I have been part of this group for over four years. I have seen a near 100% turn over in membership at least twice. (That is to say, everyone who was there when I started is gone, everyone who came later who would remember those people is also gone, and there’s only a couple of people left who remember THEM.) Whatever the goals of this ministry might have been, I’ve always thought that, as far as creating lasting relationships, it has been an almost complete and spectacular failure.

Now suddenly, I don’t bother showing up for a couple of meetings and I’ve been getting nonstop voice-mails and text messages. And it’s obvious that people have been talking to each other in between pestering him and me. Did someone throw a grenade in here? What are you people so worked up about? Part of me wants to think that there’s a sense that timoth IS 20Somethings, just like no matter how many other dudes come and go, if Robert Smith leaves it ain’t The Cure. But… ummmmmm, no.

More likely, I think my friend and I just caught a little Three Stooges Syndrome on our way out the door.

That’s not even what I really wanted to talk about. I went to a new church last Sunday. That turned out to be a mistake, but at least it was one of those learning mistakes. I felt very much like I was crashing a party. In a sense, I literally was, because the church happened to be celebrating its first birthday that night and they had pizza and cake and stuff, but that’s not what I meant. I knew a few people there, and they definitely seemed to have more of a “What are YOU doing here” than a “Hey, nice to see you” attitude. I had actually tried to go somewhat incognito specifically to avoid that, but that plan failed in about the first 15 seconds when I encountered someone I knew in the parking lot. Not that it matters, there weren’t nearly enough people in that room to hide in anyway. I had grown accustomed to significantly larger congregations.

So what was I doing there? I hadn’t been to a church service in almost two months, I told people, as if that was an answer. In retrospect, that only compounds the question. I had stopped going to my regular church when I got a job that included working on Sunday mornings. But even though I wasn’t working for half of December, I still didn’t go. (Well, I was technically in the church building one Sunday morning, but I spent the whole time flipping pancakes. And I specifically went there just to flip pancakes.) The last two Sundays, I just didn’t bother. Sure, I had family in town, but that’s never stopped me… even in foreign countries.

So why this church, and why now? Well, I had thought about going there for a some time, because it met on Sunday evenings which worked with my schedule, and because several people had left my church to go there, and I wanted to see what the big deal was. Also, I had heard that number of people from work go there. One time, I was standing right there at a party when someone told my coworker that he was the only employee who had never been. (Of course, I happened to be with someone else who got off the phone with this same person and said to me, “…And she says ‘hi’ to you.” And I countered, with confidence, “No she didn’t.” So that’s a separate issue entirely.) So anyway, it seemed like the thing to do.

But why this particular Sunday? After two months? Partly, it was to in some way honor my friend Grant. An awful lot of people can talk the talk, but who can say what’s in their heart? He was one of a very few people that I know had a genuine conversion experience, and who truly loved the Lord. I know more now than I did then: He went to a bar to go pick up someone who had gotten into some trouble. There was a fight, and someone kicked him in the head. This was a guy who literally “lay down his life for his friends” in a way that most of us will probably never be asked to. I could not find the words to say that to anyone who asked on Sunday.

On the other side of the coin, even before I heard about that, part of me had been wanting to go already, just to say good bye…

As you all probably do not recall, I used to pick a “best song” from the previous year. When I became a Christian, I got it into my head that I should only listen to Christian music. I rather forgot about choosing best songs as I gradually began driving with the radio off more and more often, and eventually stopped listening to music altogether.

Last spring, it finally hit me that (with a few exceptions) I had been listening to music that I don’t even like for about four years. So I went back to the old modern rock stations, and was surprised to discover that I recognized roughly five out of every six songs played. Has there been no new music in the last four years? Where are all these bands that, being on a college campus, I had heard of but was unfamiliar with? Where were the Killers, Modest Mouse, and the Decemberists? Heck, where was Coldplay (coming to popularity back when I tuned out) for that matter? Why all this music from high school?

So I tried other things: classical, “playing what we want”, and even country.

Anyway, back to the best song of 2007. First some runners-up:

Made To Love This is a Christian song, but it’s a good Christian song, by TobyMac, whom you may or may not know as the good one from the former D.C. Talk. I’m a little uncertain as to its eligibility though, because my research indicates that while the album was released in 2007, the single was actually released back in 2006.

Vague This is a rather biased choice, as I know one of the guys in the band, Mustard Seed. But they have a legitimate cd that you can actually buy on iTunes, and you should. (As it turns out, they also do a cover version of “Made to Love.” Two for one there.)

How Far We’ve Come I first heard this song last week, and was amazed. Finally some fresh new talent? Why, oh! It’s my old friends Matchbox Twenty… and they’re interesting again! But last week was not exactly 2007, now was it?

…And the Best Song of 2007 is:

I Told You So This song is by Keith Urban, who we know is, as recently came up in conversation, Australian. (What was I supposed to say? I didn’t want to spoil the surprise…) This song, quite simply, kicks ass. Perhaps I was drawn in because it has a similar rhythm to one of my own songs that I never quite finished. I want to say that this song is like a man’s version of “I Will Survive,” but I think that probably says something more about me than it does about the song. (Besides Cake already literally did a man’s version of “I Will Survive.”)

As in: I wonder how to make an intercontinental journey in 24 hours or less?

Have I ever mentioned that I hate flying? I seem to have no trouble when traveling with other people, but when I go alone…

I woke up sometime between 3:00 and 4:00 am in London (03:00-04:00 UTC). This was about an hour earlier than I planned, as I had discovered that one work-around for jet lag is simple insomnia. I departed at 04:45 and traveled by bus, then train to Heathrow Airport where I boarded a plane which left the gate as scheduled. We proceeded to sit first on the runway, later near (but not at) a gate for two and a half hours while one of the engines was repaired.

At approximately 9:00 pm PST (05:00 UTC), with three delayed and one canceled flight, four waits in lengthy customer services lines resulting in three reticketings, and only two actual plane rides later, I arrived at LAX with my vehicle in long term parking 50 miles away at Ontario International Airport and my suitcase in any number of possible places depending on who I asked.

As I considered my options at this point (taxi, train, rental car), I eventually confronted one of my greatest insecurities: I would have to call someone for help. In fact, I feared, at 9:00 on a friday night, I would most likely have to call many people before I could find someone who was willing and able to make a 3-4ish hour round trip to one of my personal Top 3 least favorite places on earth. Fortunately, I was (reasonably) successful in this task.

Eventually, around 1:45 am PST (09:45 UTC), I arrived in the rain, in my own vehicle, to -get this- a house with no power. (And, curiously, a book tucked under my doormat, the cover of which bares the endorsement, “‘Here’s a book for anyone who has truly loved another person.’ –Today’s Christian Woman“. Why, that sounds like me in nutshell, does it? (Actually I did not discover the book until leaving again for work a short six hours later, but I presume it was there at the time.))

Total elapsed travel time: 29 hours almost on the nose. Which is surprisingly one of my better times. I remember one time a girl in my Bible study was complaining about how it had taken “all day” for her to get home from Ohio, and I believe I exchanged a sort of “I won’t say anything if you don’t” look with my friend who had recently returned from Rwanda/Uganda.

My one consolation through this was that instead of spending the night in a mountain cabin as I usually do on the weekends when I work (since I had clearly missed my shift), I would get to sleep in my own bed… er, couch. (Maybe it’s time I bought a real bed?)

I had a post all planned out for today with another spectacular example of why I hate airplane travel. But then I received a couple of phone calls informing me that one of the guys that I went with to Louisiana last year had been attacked and subsequently died. Suddenly today did not seem like such a good day for self pity anymore.