Showing posts with label Small Town. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Small Town. Show all posts

Wednesday

Angels Unaware

I have written for a magazine called "Christian Chronicle" so occasionally the editor will send out a call for news, pictures, or thoughts or ideas.

Most recently (that I remember) he relayed his experience (that he VERY eloquently wrote about here) of visiting a congregation and not being greeted very warmly and was curious if we had ever experienced the same thing.

Oh, dear.

I am ALWAYS happy to give my opinion about something, and if it's something that I feel strongly about? Well, you just better make yourself comfortable, because I have got a THING or two to say!

Ten years ago, when our family moved to SmallTown (but with gazillion churches) we encountered the same thing to a degree: no one really speaks to you unless a member forces them to: "HEY! Have you met the Stirmans??? They are moving here! They are looking for a church home!" THEN the light bulb goes off and the friendly switch comes on. We got a little bit of that since my husband was working at one of the largest places in town and we knew a few people in town already.

Ironically, we honestly ended up placing membership at the least friendly church we encountered. But we knew a few people, and knew that we would eventually know more. But, BOY, did we have to WORK to know more!

At one point, very early in our time there, our lives were beyond stressful -- moving to SmallTown was a fiasco in and of itself -- and I sat through one entire Wednesday evening service with tears running down my face and occasionally sobbing. I was in the middle of enough people (and next to Troy) that it was pretty impossible to miss my emotional state.  Not one person inquired to my well being or even offered me a tissue. I began to question our decision to make that our church home -- and I definitely vowed to change how I viewed and treated people I didn't know within the walls of a church building.

Not long after my crying incident, I finally wearied of sitting in a Sunday school class FULL of people -- and none of them talking to me or my husband -- so we offered to help with the college students. That availed us to some people who were willing to get to know us: both the college students and the lovely people who worked with them.

'Handshake' photo (c) 2008, Jeff McNeill - license: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/And I began to methodically meet my church family in a very simple, straightforward manner:
"Hi! My name is Sarah. I'm not sure we've met...?" (extending my hand to be shaken by person I don't recognize).

"Are you a member here?"

Sometimes I would meet a member. Sometimes I would meet a visitor. I was still doing that the Sunday before we moved away -- 10 years later -- and when that particular member said her name, I knew who she was, and who she was friends with, but we had never met. I also knew where she sat in first service (due to my previous sign language interpreting) and since I mainly attended second service, we didn't really cross paths.

Yay! I finally met someone that I had been worshiping with for 10 years! That's not embarrassing. That's knowing my church family!

So when we had to up and move to Suburbia -- oye with the starting over looking for churches! It's just so hard.

Here is the article that came from my rant about that.

In short, my portion says that of course, NOW we have "shake and bake" (a term not original to me, but my friend LOVES it that her moniker for the forced time of greeting in church made it into the Christian Chronicle) and people will slap a smile on their face THEN and greet you -- but I can think of several churches we visited where our family very awkwardly stood and chatted with each other while the people around us heartily greeted the people they already knew... and said nothing to us.

People... it isn't hard: do you recognize that face? No? Then introduce yourself!

I had someone say to me: "But that's just in your and Troy's nature..."

Uh, NO! It is not! My nature is to sit and study my cuticles and the pattern on the carpet. I am the definition of an introvert and am really good sitting there. However, my nature IS compassionate, and I know what it feels like to walk into a church and feel like NO ONE cares that you came or went. And it feels really crappy. And heaven forbid anyone feel that way with me sitting looking at my cuticles.

So I reach beyond my nature, extend my hand, and say: "Hi! I'm Sarah! I'm not sure we've met...?"

Now, time for true confessions:

A guy at church was kidding me about that article... yes the one where I complained that no one talked to us at church. As he's talking to me, I'm finding my way to my seat, stepping over a lady I don't recognize. He and I chat about our various experiences with such churches right up until church starts. At the end of church, several of us went up to pray with a family that was leaving to do mission work. I stepped over lady again to get out. At the end of the prayer, I turned and tried to get to her... but she and her daughter were hurrying out the door.

I am fairly certain not one person in that room spoke to her. While I sat next to her talking about that article where I complained about unfriendly churches.

That, boys and girls, is what is known as irony...

And I feel horrible.

However, I have to remind myself: there were 200 people in that room. SOMEONE could have stuck out a hand and said, "Hello! My name is...." But I'm fairly certain no one did. And I doubt we will get a second chance to say hello to her.

“Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing.” Hebrews 13:2

Sunday

Checking In...

Well, I am slowly sliding -- actually waddling due to recent caloric consumption -- into real life and I am not very pleased with it. I really enjoyed my not-real life so very much.

And, of course, my precious husband was most excited about our weekend away. He was more worried about whether or not any students were going to be expecting him Friday afternoon. Once he figured out he was in the clear there, all was good. I asked him SOOO many times about missing hunting, "Are you SURE you don't mind??" he finally said, "Babe! It's one weekend out of 9. No worries!" How cute is he?

You know how you get in your head how things will be and start to get mad about it before it actually happens? I was SO worked up and just positive that Troy would be really disappointed in not hunting that by Thursday I thought (not for long, but the thought did cross my mind) about calling him and screeching: "IF YOU DON'T WANT TO GO THIS WEEKEND THAT IS JUST! FINE!! I WILL HAVE A GLORIOUS WEEKEND ALL! BY! MYSELF!!" Now it's funny -- actually, I think the comic effect of it is what kept me from doing it. When I told Troy about that today, he said, "What made you think that?" "Oh, just my crazy, crazy head...!"

And, of course, went to breakfast the first morning and the only other couple there was a couple from Temple whose son was in Ashley's pre-school class for 3 years in a row. We don't know them well, but that was funny. The B&B owner, a salty, say-anything kind of guy, drawled, "Well, at least you were with your own spouses; we've had that happen..."

It was GLORIOUS to just 'be' with my hubby. It was wonderful to go and do whatever, whenever, and however we wanted. For the record, it wasn't much, and might be boring to most people, but it was great. These things did make me laugh about being in Small Town, Texas:
  • Chicken-fried BACON (yes, bacon) was served for breakfast yesterday. Yes, I ate it, yes, it was as gloriously wonderful as it sounds.
  • We pumped gas at a place that didn't require you to prepay.
  • I stood behind a gentleman named 'Conrad'. I know, because his name was stamped into his leather belt.
  • We ordered the pecan pie with Jack Daniels ice cream for dessert last night. Y'all the PECAN PIE was fried!! I have consumed more fried food in the last 48 hours than in the last 12 months combined. P.S. Jack Daniels ice cream? Oh, yeah...!

All in all, it was so great. Every time Troy and I do that -- take just a little time for the two of us -- we agree it is well worth the financial and time investment. But we just let life keep rolling by for a year or two and forget to make it a priority. I think we've been better about it in the last few years. Probably because we have seen what a mess we become when we don't...

One last thing: I know I asked you to pray, pray about God being in the details. I need to sit and write all of the little tiny things that God took care of so beautifully and perfectly for us. I hope it will teach me to breathe that prayer far more often: "God, be in the details..." He really is, and as our loving parent longs to take care of us and delight us. It's only when we snatch back trying to take care of the details ourselves that the biggest mess is made.

God, be in the details...

Monday

A Pic for Monday

Returning from our get-away week, Troy and I stopped in a convenience store in Small Town, Texas. Small Town was a lovely town with a quaint little square full of shops surrounding the courthouse. And, as evidenced by this picture, a wonderful town full of people being community to each other. And, believe me, I know the spirit behind the people doing this is pure gold. They are doing what they know to do to help someone they love. But it made me laugh uncontrollably.

'Cause, and I'm just throwing this out here, to benefit someone's heart condition, you may want to go with something other than fried pies, cream puffs, cakes, and breads. But that's just me.