Good morning…
The old wooden pews were nicely filled. After saying “Hello” to a handful of friendly, familiar faces, I was escorted to the front of the church, to a velvety antique chair just behind the pulpit. “Oh no,” my heart sank. I thought I would be non-conspicuously sitting with the church family until it was my time to step up to share yesterday’s sermon. Instead, I was invited up to the front of the sanctuary, perched beside the authentic, articulate lay leader. Steady, sensitive, he spoke welcoming word as we began the homecoming celebration to honor the 107th birthday of the little Log Cabin Church in Smyrna, Georgia.
Initially uncomfortable in my seat upfront, I settled more deeply into the sweet, sacred space as we read aloud the responsive reading. The normal font was read by another lay leader. The bold words were read in unison by the voice of every person.
“In every one of us there is a longing for home.”
“It’s a longing for a place where we are known, accepted, and loved for who we are.”
“It’s a longing for a place where we are nurtured, guided, and challenged to become more of who we are.”
“It’s a longing to belong, and to create a home where more and more of God’s children know they belong.”
“God calls to us, ‘You can come home now. There is a home for you in my forgiving love. There is a home for you in my living Word. There is a home for you in my church, the fellowship of my servant people.'”
“And our hearts respond, ‘We are coming. Open the door wide. We are coming home.'”
This tiny church, seating less than a hundred people, totally gets what some large churches forget: in every one of us there is a longing for home. We all crave forgiving love. We all need God’s living Word. We are all designed to belong to a fellowship of servant people. To be nurtured. To be guided. To be challenged to become less our big “I” and more God-with-skin-on.
Intuitively our vulnerable hearts respond each time we see this church’s little red doors, “We are coming. Open the door wide. We are coming home.”
That’s why we live with such good cheer. You won’t see us drooping our heads or dragging our feet! Cramped conditions here don’t get us down. They only remind us of the spacious living conditions ahead. It’s what we trust in but don’t yet see that keeps us going. Do you suppose a few ruts in the road or rocks in the path are going to stop us? When the time comes, we’ll be plenty ready to exchange exile for homecoming (2 Corinthians 5:6-8, MSG).
…Sue…
P.S. I apologize to our blog subscribers from Log Cabin Church. I told you from the pulpit that I would share the words of yesterday’s sermon. Overnight, God has convinced me to slow down, to take our time. Setting the table for the homecoming feast, we shared in unison this responsive reading and my heart was lulled to peace before my feet stepped up to the pulpit. Over the week, yesterday’s sermon will take form in our blog. “Patience is a virtue,” I hear my momma heart whisper.
