Monday, March 24, 2014

Clearing the Stage

I had someone tell me the other day that my blog posts are too emotional. Too honest. Too revealing of my heart. I'm so glad they told me. It means I am finally doing something right.

With that being said...

The other day, I took a car ride with a dear friend from our church, and had a chance to talk with them about the changes God has made in our lives over the past two weeks. They were major changes, make no mistake, and one of the biggest ones required us to change our place of worship.

I assured her, as I have assured many that this change had nothing to do with anyone at our church home, or anything about it's walls, floors, or beliefs. I think many who read this will think I am saying that to hide the truth, but I can assure you that if anything was hidden, it was our hearts when God was speaking to us for the past three years.

It took the form of Him whispering gently "I want you to make a change, and seek a new house of worship." Our reaction was always "Of course you don't mean that, God. We love where we are. Thank you for your input, but no thanks."

This He repeated to us, and we answered in kind, year after year. Each time, he would press a little harder, and we would press backward with firmer resolve.

I have to admit, the most difficult stumbling block for me in following his command was how much I love the children at our church. I have been active in our Awana program at LBC for almost 10 years, and seen children grow from Cubbies to T&T. Oh, the children...how I love them so much and will miss seeing them every Sunday. Of course, I will still see them from time to time, but not every Sunday like it was. That was the heartbreaking thought for me, personally. Although not an exclusive list, I can begin naming the faces that come to my mind as the pain of leaving hits home again and again...(Tiffany, Hunter, Abby, Zachary, Lexie, Maddie, Lily, Summer, Chaz, Harmoney, Layla, Randy, Ally...and on and on and on...I haven't forgotten names, it would just take forever to tell you about them all.)

That ultimately is what kept me from obeying God. I knew that if I had to look into their faces and tell them goodbye, I'd never be able to do it.

My friend (in the car ride) told me that by not telling them goodbye, I was slighting them, and not giving them closure. That was so hard to hear. As she said that, the faces of the children flashed before my eyes again, and I felt so guilty for leaving that I wanted to hide in a hole.

I love my Awana kids so much.

So very, VERY much.


I keep going back and looking at that one little photo I posted above. My heart almost goes to pieces each time I look at it, and all I want to do is give in and go back to what I know. I taught Awana for 15 years. Fifteen years!


My uniform hangs in the closet, and I  swore that if I had to give up every area of service but one, that I would wear that shirt until the buttons fell off. Now, in many ways, it feels like the buttons are just fine, but me that is falling apart.That pin up there? That means nothing. Zip. Nada. The children are everything.

God is in the balance. Habakkuk, Lord. Make me like Habakkuk.

I wonder, if there is some kind of "balance" here. I have prayed on this for days, and each time, God has assured me "What I have said, I have said." So there is no going back. As one man in our church said "Don't be like Jonah."

No sir, I will not.

But I prayed about where the balance lies, and what God told me to do is to write it down. If you are someone in our church who has wondered why we have gone, or a child in the Awana program who wondered "Why did Mr. Daniel leave?" Then this blog post is for you. Moms and Dads, feel free to show it to the kids that I worked with for years and years. If you are someone who served with me at church, this is for you also.

We left, not because of anything anyone said, did, or was going to do. We left because God has been asking us to for a long time, and he said it would begin to make sense the minute we obeyed.

I have to admit, the first Sunday we spent away from our church was so difficult. Everything felt confused and wrong at first. The new sanctuary, the new people, the new music, the new pastor...it was very, very hard to explain how alien it felt at first. At our home church, we knew everybody. At this church, I knew a few faces, and less than a handful of names...Emily even less.

But one thing began immediately, and this is why I want to make sure this blog post is written. In the past few years at our home church, Emily and I had forgotten how to do something. We hadn't forgotten how to teach, how to attend church, how to do what we needed to do, and how to be active in many different areas of service. But we had forgotten how to do one very important thing.

We forgot how to WORSHIP.

Again, this had nothing to do with the church itself. It had to do with a place we had fixed our feet upon in spite of God's leading us in another direction. We were so fixed on  "Our commitment to God." that we forgot how to honor His commitment to us.

We were so caught up on all the things that must be done, and all the responsibilities that must be upheld, and all the duties that must be attended to, that we let go of Him. At least, I did.

I loved my church more than I loved my Lord.

"Anything I put before my God is an idol...
Anything I want with all my heart is an idol...
Anything I can't stop thinking of is an idol...
Anything that I give all my love is an idol..."

The words from the song below hit me so hard, and the first verse alone was enough to make me so convicted of my sin that I just sat staring into nothing.

"Clear the stage and set the sound and lights ablaze
if that's the measure you must take to crush the idols.
Jerk the pews and all the decorations too
Until the congregations few then have revival."


I am just now noticing that the very gift I used so much at church, my photography, is not showing itself in this blog post. To be honest though, the very idea of posting pictures of all the things we had done at our church over the years seems almost self-serving, so I will hold back on those for the purpose of this entry. If you were with us, you remember. If you weren't, the photos wouldn't matter anyway. Sometimes, a camera isn't needed...photos aren't needed. Only the memory matters.

I have so many beautiful memories.

And if God wills it, maybe one day there will be more.

On the flip side of this, however, I want to add one little happy note. On the first day we visited the new church we are considering, in the face of the pain, the confusion, the uncertainty, and the tears that would come from each of us as we sat in these new chairs and listened to different music from a different set of people and a new message from a new pastor...

There was this one child.

She recognized me from the soccer game the day before, and as if God placed her there for that one purpose, she smiled at me.

"I remember you."

Thank you, Ava.

And thank you, God...for remembering me.

Please pray for us. We need it more than you can imagine.

And to my Awana kids, please know that I love you so much. You were the biggest reason I stayed for as long as I did. I just couldn't bear to let you go. <><

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