A place to call home
Several years ago, back when I was a little curly blond haired girl with blue eyes and not much hearing in my left ear, we would prepare ourselves for Sunday morning to go to Canton Mennonite, the church I'd been born into. I went to my Sunday school class and played in my blue dress sprinkled with light blue flowers and raised my hand to ask questions about the figures on the flannel graph.
Afterwards we'd go home and eat our midday meal. Then, later in the evening, we'd get into the car again to gather with the church family that we were growing in the other direction. My parent's began the church plant in a living room with a few other families and lots of kids. Eventually we outgrew the living rooms and out-babied the basement. So we met in local public schools. Sunday mornings were at Canton Mennonite and Sunday evenings in the brightly lit rooms of a large school. That was 12 years ago.
By God's grace we became a rapidly growing church. People wouldn't stop coming, nor would they stop having babies.
Eventually we left the Mennonite church to began full-time Sunday services in the morning, but we never left the family there. To this day I dearly love many of the people that have remained faithful friends over the years.
The church we had started seemed to never have a permanent place. So we wandered around from school to school, often having to switch schools last minute. People came early every morning to set up and stayed late to tear down. We got a pastor to lead our church. But we had no place to set our feet. We were like pilgrims searching for our home.
I honestly couldn't imagine ever having a place to be. Church has always been about the people, the body of Christ. Yet within all of our hearts there was a longing that we could have some sort of home, some kind of sanctuary to call our own. A place where God's light could shine every day of the week. A place to meet as youth, to have outreaches, birthday parties, and prayer meetings.
And finally. After years and years of searching, fundraising, disappointment, prayer, and trust in God, we have a home.
This Sunday was a very special Sunday because it was our last time meeting in a school auditorium. Our last time having to set up and tear down. No more do we need to make a cafeteria into a children's Sunday school room. Nor do we need to ask for permission to meet at some odd time during the week.
We've got a home.
Next week, we move into the place that we've built up together as a family. Tearing down walls, building them up, scraping, painting, cleaning, singing, and praying. That's what turned a sad looking building into our home. I can't grasp having a building, and I'm very thankful. So thankful.
It's a shadow of the Building to come. The Home that will be ours forever. It's not our permanent home, it's not even that important. The building is a tool, not the focus. A reminder of our place in Heaven.
“Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also." John 14:1-3
Praise God for that.
Afterwards we'd go home and eat our midday meal. Then, later in the evening, we'd get into the car again to gather with the church family that we were growing in the other direction. My parent's began the church plant in a living room with a few other families and lots of kids. Eventually we outgrew the living rooms and out-babied the basement. So we met in local public schools. Sunday mornings were at Canton Mennonite and Sunday evenings in the brightly lit rooms of a large school. That was 12 years ago.
By God's grace we became a rapidly growing church. People wouldn't stop coming, nor would they stop having babies.
Eventually we left the Mennonite church to began full-time Sunday services in the morning, but we never left the family there. To this day I dearly love many of the people that have remained faithful friends over the years.
The church we had started seemed to never have a permanent place. So we wandered around from school to school, often having to switch schools last minute. People came early every morning to set up and stayed late to tear down. We got a pastor to lead our church. But we had no place to set our feet. We were like pilgrims searching for our home.
I honestly couldn't imagine ever having a place to be. Church has always been about the people, the body of Christ. Yet within all of our hearts there was a longing that we could have some sort of home, some kind of sanctuary to call our own. A place where God's light could shine every day of the week. A place to meet as youth, to have outreaches, birthday parties, and prayer meetings.
And finally. After years and years of searching, fundraising, disappointment, prayer, and trust in God, we have a home.
This Sunday was a very special Sunday because it was our last time meeting in a school auditorium. Our last time having to set up and tear down. No more do we need to make a cafeteria into a children's Sunday school room. Nor do we need to ask for permission to meet at some odd time during the week.
We've got a home.
Next week, we move into the place that we've built up together as a family. Tearing down walls, building them up, scraping, painting, cleaning, singing, and praying. That's what turned a sad looking building into our home. I can't grasp having a building, and I'm very thankful. So thankful.
It's a shadow of the Building to come. The Home that will be ours forever. It's not our permanent home, it's not even that important. The building is a tool, not the focus. A reminder of our place in Heaven.
“Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also." John 14:1-3
Praise God for that.
Beautiful story of how you all found a home. :)
ReplyDeleteI always remember Eston told me that you have great parents. I know some circumstances that your family been through. It's just the same here. I;ve been with my parents and see what their struggles is in ministries, but we wont stop to walk till we reach our home....through our hard days God is always there and His face shining brighter as we almost reach the home. :)
I'm happy for you Maryah. Thanks for sharing, anyway, I would love to make a vintage dress for you someday. :)
Blessing,
Eva