Oh Man, Oh Man...

"Oh Man, Oh Man..." Those were the words I uttered to Bob Balian when Jeremy and I came out of our Saturday morning 'disposition' meeting. I realize I haven't blogged through the church planting assessment we attended yet - partly because I'm still processing, and partly because it still feels like it was dream.

First off, the entire experience was incredible, if not a little intimidating. Fourteen couples attended the assessment center, and 14 other individuals came to do the 'assessing' - most of them conference representatives or superintendents, as well as a few other people who have planted their own church with the Covenant.

Our first morning was a bit awkward for both Jer and I... we all met in the hotel lobby and had to organize rides to the church where we spent the majority of our time. There were an odd number of cars, and with no one really knowing one another, settling who would ride with who was a bit chaotic. That first morning Jeremy and I squeezed into the back seat of a car with two others... and two more in the front. Six people riding in a small car made it almost feel like we were attending an adult version of youth group.

We had lunch at the church, and then spent 2 hours going through a series of interviews (spiritual disciplines, evangelism habits, prayer requests, church vision, etc.) Lots and lots of stuff to share. After that, we were broken into groups (separate groups for spouses) and placed in classrooms where we had to work through a hypothetical church planting situation. The assessors sat in the room to observe our group interaction, leadership, initiative... and whatever else they wanted to pay attention to. Then it was back for more interviews and a chat with a licenced counselor. Then dinner. Then 3 of the guys had to give 10 minute mini-sermons relating to their passions for their church plant. When the guys were done preaching, their wives had to join them in the front of the room to answer a few questions. Jeremy was the third of those three that first night and I (though admittedly biased) think he did a pretty good job. We ended the day around 8 and headed back to the hotel.

Day two involved an earlier start, more interviews, more group exercises, and a few breakout sessions on personality types and other stuff. It was a heck of a day. And then came day three, where our team had to devise a plan to plant 10 churches in 10 years... easier hypothetically than it sounds. And in the midst of this team exercise, we were getting pulled out for more counseling sessions and more intentional interviews. And then it they let us go.

The assessors met the evening of that third day to pray over what they had seen in each individual (and each couple) that week, and to seek the Lord's heart in our fit for church planting. What an incredible gift, at the end of a few intense days, to know that there were people praying specifically about our future and what the Lord wants to do with us. What a beautiful picture of the church. What a great display of intentional community. And how wonderful, no matter the outcome, to have this experience.

All I can say is Oh Man, Oh Man...

Late Night Walks and God Encounters

Jeremy and I have gotten into the habit of going on late night walks together. Generally, Jeremy likes to go on late night walks anyway so that he can pray and seek the Lord. Lately, though, we have been walking together - talking about the future, where we see God working and discovering our shared passions.

What made me smile yesterday was just how funny God is, and how He encourages us in just the right way at just the right time (especially when we are paying attention). Jer had a rough day, feeling limited and lost inside the church building, and aching to start pursuing the vision we were given last week (sorry - haven't blogged about that yet!) We went on a late night walk to the gym and were talking about the day, our feelings, and the future. Jer mentioned the last time he was struggling with this, God brought a few Revolutionaries into his day (students who we worked with in the grass-roots Revolution movement that we walked away from 2 1/2 years ago). When we got to the gym, there was a kid on the elliptical machine who kept looking at us. I didn't know who he was, but he walked over and starting chatting with Jeremy... about the Revolution.

This kid had been to our house a few times, attended a few Revolution events, and asked Jer what the future looked like. And so Jer got to share what we may be noodling on and invited this kid to potentially join us. What is funny about God is that had we waited just a few months longer to see this vision, many of these 'random' Revolution encounters wouldn't be happening. 2 1/2 years was the perfect amount of time to let us find our stride together, let us see what the Lord might be doing, and to come back to finish the work that was already started.

God is funny. He encourages us in just the right way at just the right time.

Church Bulletins

This may sound dumb, but lately our church bulletins make me cry. It happened again this Sunday. It's not that anything super wonderful, deep or amazing is specifically
mentioned in the bulletin - it's just the typical order of service, financial update, weekly events, and prayer requests...

It's the prayer requests that make me cry.

Last week there was a prayer request for guidance as the church looks for the new student life coordinator. Makes sense. Of course that's a good thing to pray for. But the church is being asked to pray for that because we won't be there any more. It's a quasi 'pray for a new Jeremy' request. And I hate it. It makes me cry. I don't want there to be a new Jeremy because I like the Jeremy the church has now.

And this week in the prayer request updates, there was a request for guidance for Jeremy and I as we finish our ministry at Faith. Another good request. And I appreciate the prayers - I really do. But that one made me cry the most. And that one made me hate the church bulletin. It's just another reminder that I don't get to be a part of Faith once June comes (at least, I don't get to be a part of Faith the way we have been till now). And I don't want to be reminded of it every week when I read the church bulletin.

I was fine. I was doing fine. I was finishing our year strong, not thinking about this stupid transition that we have to go through (and by we, I mean our Fusion students, the Berg's and the church - but mostly the students). And then I read the church bulletin at church on Sunday while surrounded by all the students I love so much, and I was reminded that I don't get to do that every Sunday. I don't get to tell them to be quiet when they're obnoxious during prayers, or laugh at the funny dances they do during worship, or stay after the service to talk about their weeks. I don't get to, and the church bulletin keeps reminding me of that, and thinking about that makes me cry.

Dear child...

We arrived in Nashville last night and received a phone call from home. One of the dear kids that I love SO much decided that he wasn't very lovable and tried to take his own life. And here we are, far from home, and unable to be present during this hard time... all I can do is pray, send a quick text message, and call my co-leaders to step in to the situation and love this family and this dear child during this hard time. He will be alright - he is alive, he is safe, and he is now surrounded by people who are speaking truth to him.

This is a tangible way that God is showing me that once Jer and I have to leave Faith that He will take care of our kids. This is and has been my prayer since we got the news about Jer's job - that the Lord will provide people to love our kids well, and that He will bring people into the ministry to take care of them. In our absence, while we are in Nashville, the body is responding to the need, praying for the hurting, and responding with love and compassion.

But it also makes me ask... where were we before? Were we responding to the need, praying for the hurting and responding with love and compassion before this act of desperation happened? Were we loving this dear child in the way he needed? Did he know, does he know, how infinitely loved and infinitely special he is? Maybe, but maybe not. And as a church, as a body, I think we can do better.

Let's be honest

So Jer and I are here, at the assessment center, trying to figure out what we're being called to next. The whole process is meant to help us discern how we're wired, what skills God has gifted us with, and how we go forward with that. What we have come back to over and over today is that Jeremy and I are opposites and how crazy and wonderful that is for us in ministry.

That truth totally came out at the airport yesterday too... our first flight was delayed, we thought we missed our second flight (but it was just incredibly delayed) and then we actually did miss the third one (Minneapolis to Milwaukee to Chicago to Nashville). We respond to these stresses in completely opposite ways... and yesterday instead of getting frustrated by it, we were able to start laughing about it. We made it here and that's what counts. And whatever comes out of this, Jeremy and I will be united in it. And let's be honest - that's what really counts.