Our Story
We all wanted to leave to avoid the struggle, the pain and the suffering… but some of us could NOT. God would not let us leave… we were being prepared for burial.
I remember sitting in a friend’s office as he asked me what I was going to do… “I guess I will be the pastor”, I replied. “Why would you do that, don’t you know it’s a hospice position?” “Yes, I know”, I nodded… but I really had no clue!
At times we were both the hospice patient and the one providing hospice. We were simultaneously needing presence and sharing presence. We were miserably suffering and unexplainably comforted at the same time.
None of us chose this journey… we were all swept into it. It began with visions of grandeur housed in a safe and secure structure we were familiar with and understood... a church.
Like any sane human being we resisted change, fought death and tried to save ourselves. Our efforts and lack of results left us helplessly bleeding financially and in a state of desperation.
We found ourselves wondering… are we willing to look foolish? Do we have to look this pitiful? Are we willing to be homeless with no place to lay our head or call home?
Throughout the process I constantly heard, “I’m inviting you to experience the Kingdom NOT to build a church. Why do you still want a building to hide my light in?” My only response was, "It's all I've ever known."
Our building finally sold and we began the exhausting process of organizing and cleaning out nearly 50 years of stuff. We would leave the security of our familiar walls naked and helpless, much like a newborn babe, only with no place to go.
Seeing our neediness and desperation two groups within the community offered us a place to lay our heads. The hospitality we received from the people of First United Methodist Church and Open Door Community Church was so wonderful and gracious we were overwhelmed with gratitude.
With everything moved, the building empty and the sale complete… we handed over the keys and let go of what we let define us for years… it was an excruciating experience.
The following week, on Labor Day, I was sitting on my deck totally exhausted when I heard,
*Color outside the lines, your lines are imaginary anyway, they are part of the illusion.
*Share your story, including your struggles and your gratitude with everyone.
*Continue to share your wounds, your weakness and your neediness, you are naked and helpless.
*Be an open house, be generous, by opening up, you prompt others to open up.
*Be fully connected, FACE to FACE, with yourself and others.
With these words of encouragement and a fresh excitement I looked forward to our first time together outside the walls that defined us for so long. I felt our season of pain and labor had passed and I was excited to show off this new baby!
Little did I know that we, like a caterpillar, had just been sealed into a cocoon of transformation, a transformation that would feel terrifyingly dark and fearful. We were obviously out of our comfort zone, beyond the safe green vines of familiarity and our illusion of control had been shattered!
The night before our first Sunday my son had a stroke and despite great excitement and preparation the only words I could utter between my tears were, “I’m the neediest most desperate person here and I have nothing to offer.”
I wish I could say it got better from there but it was just the beginning of a long painful season of grieving… grieving the loss of relationships, the loss of the familiar, but mostly grieving our perceived loss of control.
Many more, who could leave, did leave as I was unable to share with them where we were going or how we would get there. I could give no assurance that where we were going would be any less pitiful or foolish than where we were. I couldn’t say when the pain or suffering might end… because I had no idea.
Eventually the cocoon did open and we have beheld many beautiful butterflies. We have also come to see that transformation is NOT a one time event. It’s more of a daily process like inhaling and exhaling.
Thru this experience we are learning that presence is more precious than understanding. We are seeing that presence is the only thing that helps, the only thing that brings comfort in any and every circumstance.
We are also seeing that to resist death… is to resist life… which is resisting comfort, peace and joy. All the things we really desire seem to be the fruit of death… yet we do everything we can to avoid dying to anything.
So what is our story, who are we? We are a group of weak, needy broken people who are learning to live and breathe and embrace every moment fully as we realize we don’t have to hide from our stories.
Our stories, our unfixed messes, are what connect us and attract us to each other. This awareness is allowing us to be present with ourselves and each other at a level we’ve not experienced before. We’re discovering we’re all loved, we're all connected and we’re NEVER alone!