Church: Part 1

While we were in the US this past Christmas we were able to really enjoy time spent with some of those we're closest to. This extended beyond family in the traditional sense of the word to family in the spiritual sense of the word. For 10 years, 3 of those with Stefan, I was part of a lovely fellowship of believers on Boston's North Shore.


Before first moving to Massachusetts, there were 3 churches I'd been part of that greatly impacted me in terms of shaping my definition of what "church" was. Lanesville, which prints about 120 copies of the church bulletin every Sunday, became the fourth. Thanks to a couple of blustery Nor'Easter snow storms we were unable to attend a Sunday service over the holidays. It was pretty disappointing as we'd really been looking forward to worshiping and fellowshipping together: shaking Phil's hand as you go through the front door, hearing the Gospel preached, belting out hymns with the organ going full speed, singing the Gloria Patri and the Doxology together, and hanging out during coffee hour afterwards with various little people running around your ankles while you tried to balance the cup of coffee that Glenn or Alex may have poured for you.


However, as I've often known to be the case, a "Pot Providence Dinner" saved the day. More than 40 people squeezed into the old parsonage to sample Donna's meatballs, Bill's tofu stew, and various other sweet and savory treats. I think if we eat in heaven it will be food from a church dinner like this, complete with one of Cynthia's cakes in the dessert section. With our plates piled embarrassingly high, we looked around. Stefan's and my heart were bursting with joy at seeing all the friendly, familiar faces - some young, some old, and most with cheeks still pink from the cold outside. It was also a bit sad: we didn't have time to talk to everybody one on one, we missed the flavors their lives had added to ours daily, and so on. We are so grateful for that evening and cherish those memories. We'd love to do it again.


We were able to meet with some people in their homes and other places. Those were special times. Good conversations with those who know us well. Sometimes we were sitting by a fire, roasting marshmallows


Sometimes we were eating pumpkin pancakes at Sugar Mag's, or sipping blossoming tea and swapping academic war stories, or putting our giant rental into 4-Lo to make our way to a snow socked house


Lots of times we just sat bleary eyed around a table in this house and talked into the late (or early) hours of the day.


No matter where we were, we enjoyed catching up with friends, sharing each other's burdens, and hearing advice from those who's opinions we've valued. There's something to be said for community - you can't force it, but when it's there, it's a lovely thing.