The Collectives

There’s nothing quite like a grey, rainy morning for those of us spring and fall lovers. We see a hint of mist and we’re digging out our fuzzy blankets, a good book and smashing all the lights save for about 20 candles. Summer people might not get it, this want to be cozy indoors or, even better, sat wrapped up on a covered porch listening to the rain. Those of a sunnier inclination long for heat baking deep into bones chilled by the very thought of a rainy morning.

That’s how you find me this morning, soaking in the grey and rain for as long as I can BEFORE the baking heat and smothering humidity of a southeast Tennessee summer kicks in. We’ve been so lucky this year with a cool and gentle spring. Nearly 9 years ago now we moved to our particular part of East Tennessee and every spring up until this year has been truncated, launching us directly into hell’s armpit from early April (once, it was the end of March and TOTALLY uncalled for). I’ll use up every last bit of this blessing and watch it water my garden for me. Of course, I have children so candles will be few and moments to read farther between – but you get the idea.

This specific rainy day has me more reflective and, to be honest, a wee bit sad. Our pastors are stepping down with their hands open and raised, waiting for what God has next for them.

Backstory:

Ever since we moved to East Tennessee we searched for the right church for our family. We tried house churches, Baptist churches, non-denominational churches, Assemblies of God, Church of God, Church of God of Prophesy, Wesleyan, Methodist… Each church had its different reasons for not being the right fit for us: distance from our home, small differences in opinion on how Scripture is interpreted but ones we felt a conviction to pursue not just for our own sakes but for our children, a few real stinkers but, for the most part, just not the right fit. Then we happen to stumble upon a tiny church plant meeting in a very atmospheric Christian church building, full of young people and welcome, and, unwittingly, right into where we are supposed to be.

Jump forward to today and I’ve been sitting with the sad news our pastors won’t be ours anymore…

“I will run the course of Your commandments, for You shall enlarge my heart.” Psalm 119:32

Do you know how hard it is to try church after church, move more times than you have years (and I’m 42 this week, to give a little context), serve in different countries then come home to the US with the hope of finding a community to recover in only to not find home?

“A father of the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in His holy habitation. God sets the solitary in families; He brings out those who are bound into prosperity; but the rebellious dwell in a dry land.” Psalm 68:5-6

In the KJV and NKJV Bibles, the word “family” isn’t mentioned often. Instead, “house” or, more likely, “household” is used to indicate family. I like how the culture of the day considered the meaning of “household” to mean family and that’s including the servants, both slave and paid/bondservant. When Jesus was on Earth and, after He went home to Heaven, when His disciples were sent out and they encountered someone asking to be saved – we see the whole “house” or “household” being saved as well. Then, when believers were meeting together to learn more about their newfound faith, they would meet in the house of other believers. These houses became houses of worship, what we call churches today.

“Then Jesus went into the temple of God and drove out all those who bought and sold in the temple, and overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves. And He said to them, “It is written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer,’ but you have made it a ‘den of thieves.’ ” Matthew 21:12-13

Did you see it? How angry Jesus became when His house became “a den of thieves?” If your entire family slid into a horrific way of life, lying/stealing/cheating/drugs/drinking/sex, wouldn’t you, too, be upset and start flipping some tables over to get your point across?

“Through wisdom a house is built, and by understanding it is established; by knowledge the rooms are filled with all precious and pleasant riches.” Proverbs 24:3-4

The house mentioned above is more than a structure and the “precious and pleasant riches” refer to much more than physically nice things. A home is built around the love of those inside. As such, a home built on love is pretty hard to destroy and takes some doing.

Bring that back to our church’s news, our home of prayer’s news, and it’s heartbreaking and heart mending all in one painful and wonderful weaving.

“You are my hiding place and my shield; I hope in Your word.” Psalm 119:114

“One thing I have desired of the Lord, that will I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in His temple.” Psalm 27:4

He puts the lonely in families. Home is a hiding place and shield from all the hard of the world we face each day. God’s house, His church, is a family to run to each week and to sit, learning from His Word together and singing out our worship, our lament, and our praise to Him. This is our church, The Collectives, for us and others and our pastors let God be the answer to our prayers to find home…

My children, especially our Littles, love making cards and bringing in w**d bouquets to decorate every table and kitchen cabinet we have. They come running into the room bearing gifts of adoration.

Gracie, our youngest, has a hard time sitting still to learn unless Mommy sits with her, getting my whole attention, and then she fairly blossoms, absorbing new information like a sponge.

My sweet husband struggles with the weight of guiding our family, providing for us, strategizing and figuring out how to take what we have and make it stretch to be enough. He comes into our room, lays on top of our (never made) bed to rest for a bit. Sometimes I join him and let him talk through what he needs to. More likely than not, just 5 minutes in our quiet space is enough for him to be able to come back to the chaos that is our daily life and be able to carry on with Dad Life.

Home.

Home church. Home-away-from-home. Homefires.

There are many meanings of home but family is intricately woven into the word and when part of our church family is ready to move on it hurts just like it hurts like crazy trying to let my eldest grow up and out of our home.

The thing is – once in our family, always in our family. Our past foster children are prayed for just as much as our family living under our roof and this same reasoning is true for our pastors. They will be MISSED and prayed for and hoped for and kept tabs on, whether they like it or not, because “family is family.” (Hilarious country song, there!)

We will miss them, our family, and we will continue to make the house a home for others coming in to find the same thing we were looking for all these years.