My connection to church began when my parents went to the church building daily to pray for me when I was still a fetus in my mother’s womb and my father was a young pastor in a southern Indiana town. The only time when “the church” was not a part of my life was a couple of years in my late teens when I was away from home and lied to my parents about “going to church” — I said I was, but wouldn’t have attended for anything.
Actually, I guess there was another time when I wasn’t really connected to a church, during the years between my first and fifth birthdays, when my father became very disillusioned with the church community he was working with as well as with God for allowing his younger brother to die in WWII. The rest of my life has been filled with the blessings and the heartaches that come from being involved in the communities we call churches.
When I fell in love with my wonderful wife, who was also a pastor’s child, we only made two promises to one another – one was to love God and to love each other forever, a promise we now know we do not do as well as we wish, but have built our entire life upon. The other promise was that we would not be a “pastor” or “pastor’s wife.” A promise we both meant to keep almost as seriously as the commitment to love God and love one another.
How God tricked us into spending our lifetimes in the roles we swore we would never consider is a long story and, at least for us, a great insight into how God often works in the world. (more…)