I got up early this morning, and stayed up. This is difficult to do, but even more difficult was getting Aliyah, Sam, and Noah up by 6:30 and out the door by 7:30. It was BMV time.
Aliyah needed to renew her temps, Sam and Noah needed an id card, and I needed to renew my driver’s license. Have I ever talked about my many mishaps resulting from an expired license here on the blog? Every. Four. Years. But who says a forty year old dog can’t learn new tricks? I’m a month early.
We got to the BMV at 8 on the dot, only to find that their server was down, and most of the services they render, renewals and photo-taking among them, were not working. I decided we would wait at least until nine, since leaving and coming another day would just be another hassle. It was rather ironic to see all of these BMV employees having to ‘wait’ for their computers to work. Ha! At one point a BMV cashier got everyone’s attention (“Okay, People…”) and explained that even they did not know when the computers would be online again. “It may be five more minutes, it may be five days.” Really? You’re telling me the State of Ohio is going to let their servers be down for five days? That would make national news. Drama Queen.
I must say I haven’t had to wait like I did this morning in forever. I can’t remember a time I was in line. Part of that is I let my license expire and don’t come as often as I should (hee), part is because I try to come right when they open in the morning. One time I came and the sun was just coming up as I emerged with my renewed license (which means it wasn’t spring or summer). It was a beautiful sight, the warm orange light peeking over the brick buildings of downtown Mansfield. I thought of a wonderful opening line to a book:
“Sunrise is beautiful in my city, and I am the only one who stirs.”
The most often asked question this week is, “Are you done with school yet?” And the answer is easy or difficult. Easy because we can be done anytime I say we are, difficult because I have felt especially bad about this year- ‘homeschool fails’. The boys made some videos during track meets and called them ‘Football Fails’, films that were particularly funny to their age group or younger. This year, similarly, felt to me like me acting out the wrong way to do everything, from getting up in the morning (late) to going to bed at night (late). But, there is light on the horizon- I’ve been reading a couple of books that I think will prove helpful to this summer and next school year: Teaching From Rest, and The Literacy Cookbook. Both have some wonderful insights, talk to me without making me feel guilty, and make me want to do better next year. With no baby on the way, I already feel some space to do that I didn’t have this year. Whatever circumstance I am in, however, is an opportunity to follow Jesus, so I can’t really make excuses.
Aliyah is doing a college-credit program in the fall, and Luke was drawing up a record of ‘courses’ she has done for high school so far. This is actually a good thing, because we can think ahead for Sarah, Sam, and Noah and have a plan for where we want them to be when their turn comes to apply for this program. I’ll appreciate having a checklist of sorts, and the challenge to have them work more and more independently.
I went over to a friend’s house last night to pick up some eggs. She invited me to stay and rest on the porch, and I took her up on the offer. It was a lovely evening, and just the right amount of adventure and offroading for me. I hadn’t ever been to her house, but it wasn’t that far out of the nearest town and I couldn’t have gotten lost, something I do many times in that area. She also has elaborate landscaping, added-to each year, and I found it very inspiring as we are planning to do something around our porch (finally!)
We have decided to take a break from our church for the summer. Some disturbing things have happened in recent years, and we’re just not sure if this is the place to be right now in our family’s life, with many children and the philosophies we have about serving them and serving in the church. It was hard to say what we were doing out loud, when I had to find subs for nursery and such. But not too many people have said anything to me about it, and my friend last night didn’t say a word. Maybe that is a good thing- there isn’t really anything to say right now- my hope is to be quiet and listen these next few months. The Lord will show us what to do.
I read a blog post today where the lady was very critical of “trendy churches”, with their “coffee bars”, as missing the point when it came to truly reaching those who are hurting. She described the loss of her husband to cancer and noted that it wasn’t her trendy church she credited with helping her get through her difficult time, it was Jesus.
While I wholeheartedly agree that our church programs may or may not be hitting the target, this article seemed to be a little disjointed, if not running on parallel tracks. On the one hand, this woman has experienced a great loss. But to say the things she did about megachurches didn’t seem to go with that. Maybe her own church was unthoughtful or absent while her husband was suffering, and she is now resentful. But it almost seems as if the article is a ‘fake news’ type of publication, where someone grabbed this woman’s story and decided to make it a bash on modern church growth strategies.
This blog post did get me thinking, though. Is it really up to the church at large, the administration, to reach out to those suffering and widows? Yes, James tells us to look after widows and orphans, and no good church would ignore them. But I thought about how those who are hurting would typically be touched: if I met up with such a person, I might invite them over to my house, or to join me in a small group of people with something in common (mommy group, men’s group, etc). I probably wouldn’t invite them to church right away, keeping the connection one on one for a while. In this model, the person would be experiencing the love of Jesus, and the love of the church, but through an individual member of it. At this point in our relationship, my church’s coffee bar or salad bar wouldn’t have much to do with it.
I’m sorry for this woman’s loss, but I don’t see how her church’s flaws play into it. And yet, she now has a deeper awareness of others in their suffering, and Christ’s strength is made manifest in her weakness. In this she can delight.