Understanding Paul

I think that in a small way I can understand Paul's painful longing to visit the churches that he wrote to. I haven't started any churches as Paul did, but I have left one. I have spent much time thinking about Cement City Baptist and the people there since I graduated. I have been very impressed to pray for them and lift them up from across this nation. As fellow heirs of Christ's body we are all of us connected. Not as members of a similar organization are connected, but as those equally redeemed from our sins by His atoning sacrifice. A church body carries a specific lasting tie with it, also. It is more than a collection of saints in one place, as school was*, but it is a family sharing the joys and challenges of Christ centered living while here on earth. Unless one happens to be just a student passing through. It hardly felt like passing through though. The people did not treat me as just another stranger by the campfire. They took me in and loved me, and I loved them. I love Households dearly, but there is a care that a designated pastor can give which a board of elders cannot match; especially when that pastor is Pastor Drew. And what about youth groups? I don't see the foolishness of Pastor Kyle's love. Where are the dreaded traps of youth groups there? But I digress.

Heaven is our home and is a place of eternal reunion. Every goodbye among Christian's is no more than a "See you later," despite the pain we feel. Our lives here are united to those on the same narrow path, seeking to follow the dance that Christ taught us. We are helped on our way by the local body we are joined to. We are meant to be tightly woven, and a goodbye after three year's time can feel, appropriately, like losing a limb. But I cannot avoid this particular conundrum since I am suspended between two congregations. I am unable to be involved in more than one, and I'm not meant to be involved in more than one even if I could be. And thus I feel Paul's pain. Kind of. I have not started either church and I am only dealing with two of them, not the many that he was, but I have a glimpse into understanding the anguish that his letters begin with in wishing to personally visit the brethren there.

Until the reunion of heaven I am grateful to God for giving me a solid church family to help guide me through my time at school. I need fellow Christians to remind me that I'm not as strong as I think that I am, but that in my weakness, Christ is made perfect. I need to be reminded that my only hope and joy is in the Cross and Christ crucified. Cement City served to remind me of this many times. And so I am grateful for my time with that body and excited to worship Christ forever with my friends from school and the body at Cement City.

*I made a number of lasting friendships at school with those whose counsel and example will forever inspire me; yet, there is something about a church and the way God works through it that surpasses the abilities of Christians whose bonds are not found in a local body. For my friends though, I will eternally be grateful. There are many reunions in heaven that will be accompanied by long and rich embraces.

Greasy Hands

Working with my hands feels good. This week I have both replaced the window in my car and changed the starter in my dad's car. My window took me all day to replace. It was ridiculous that it took me so long, of course; I could do the same job in under an hour now, but the important things is that I didn't give up. I came so close to getting that window in but it just wouldn't quite fit and I was becoming very frustrated. You can't exactly force a window or it will break, and I was not about to break my window. So I kept trying new angles. I gave in when I started calling different window shops for quotes but since the average ran $90, I found new motivation became more creative. When my window was finally in and working properly and the tools put away, I felt a huge wave of accomplishment. I had finally won. My window kept defying me, but I beat it in the end and am very proud of my work.

The next day, Tuesday, I replaced my dad's starter. It wasn't a hard job, and the actual work only took me a little bit, but I really enjoyed it. Something about pulling a ratchet so hard that when the bolt finally lets go, you smack your hands into some hard part of the engine and give yourself cuts is really rewarding. Working on my car gives me both a physical challenge and a mental exercise as I exercise my problem solving skills.

Meanwhile, since graduating from school, I have been taking life pretty slowly, traveling and see friends while also being home and helping out here when the family needs it. This weekend my really good friends from school (Paul Mueller, Andrew Vanderput, and Joe McCleary) are here, so we are going to the beach and Multnomah Falls, and then hanging out with my family the rest of the time.