God is grace and I receive it
In 2010, Steve and I made the decision to leave the Austin Stone. Like the hurting people we were at the time, I don't think we made that decision wisely. We asked no one for advice. We just left. We hurt people and made some angry. We were angry. Sound familiar to anyone, anyone at all in church ministry?
I can honestly say that in five years we have been gone, there hasn't been one Sunday where I have not thought about being at the Austin Stone. My heart is tied to it. We were at Hope in the City for a few years and then our local neighborhood church for two more. I have felt like I have been wandering in a desert I didn't want to be in. I went through a major depression over what I had lost. I overcame it through the help of Jesus and some amazing Jesus people.
I can't point to a specific time, but I have always believed we would return to the Austin Stone. I had always really hoped for it. I didn't know when or how, but I asked God for it. I don't want to sound all dramatic or self-important, but I love that church with a deep, deep love I have not experienced anywhere else. It supersedes any hurt the enemy may try to bring up or that I feel. Honestly there are faces I see on Sunday that I know are not happy to see mine again. And that can be hard.
But I know this more than any hardness, hurt, anger, whatever: I know I deeply love the Austin Stone, the leadership, the worship team, the college students whose names I don't know but I love them as soon as I sit by them. That kind of love can't and won't be denied by me.
When Ronnie Smith was killed, I just wanted to be home even more. It was a wake-up call to me of how short life can be. I wanted heaven. I was tired of the wandering. When I went to another church, I just wanted to walk out. To lie on the floor, to give up. But God is relentless in His love. And in the love He has put in me.
Last fall Syd began to get discipled by two college students at the Stone. I can't tell you the impact they have had on his life. Or on mine. It was healing to me, life giving to me as well. They don't know anything about our history at the Stone other than we were past members. In the last few weeks, I have watched my sons worship at the Stone, listen to sermons at the Stone. It's changing them, it's sanctifying them. It's where they want to be. It's where Steve and I want them to be.
I have an amazing husband who does what is best for his family. Who loves Jesus most. Who is a rock. On Easter Sunday our local church planned an outdoor service. My heart wanted to be at the Stone. Steve was open to either church. I laid out a fleece of sorts and prayed that if God wanted us to be at the Stone, would he please make it rain on Easter. He did make it rain on Easter. Whether it was for the farmers or me, I don't know. But I took it.
I have no idea where/when/how the Lord will use me at the Stone, if at all. And I'm okay with that. I know that when you ask God to use you, he usually does. I completely trust that. I don't know what community will look like for our family. But I'm asking for lifelong friends. I have a few. I believe I'm supposed to have more, and for Steve as well.
So if you happen upon me at the Stone and I look like I've been crying, it's not because I'm an emotional person who can't get it together. It's because I know the cost and the wandering and what the road has been to get back to home. I know exactly what I've lost in five years of being gone, but I also know God is timeless and I'm older and wiser and my perspective is eternal. He is grace and I receive it.
I can honestly say that in five years we have been gone, there hasn't been one Sunday where I have not thought about being at the Austin Stone. My heart is tied to it. We were at Hope in the City for a few years and then our local neighborhood church for two more. I have felt like I have been wandering in a desert I didn't want to be in. I went through a major depression over what I had lost. I overcame it through the help of Jesus and some amazing Jesus people.
I can't point to a specific time, but I have always believed we would return to the Austin Stone. I had always really hoped for it. I didn't know when or how, but I asked God for it. I don't want to sound all dramatic or self-important, but I love that church with a deep, deep love I have not experienced anywhere else. It supersedes any hurt the enemy may try to bring up or that I feel. Honestly there are faces I see on Sunday that I know are not happy to see mine again. And that can be hard.
But I know this more than any hardness, hurt, anger, whatever: I know I deeply love the Austin Stone, the leadership, the worship team, the college students whose names I don't know but I love them as soon as I sit by them. That kind of love can't and won't be denied by me.
When Ronnie Smith was killed, I just wanted to be home even more. It was a wake-up call to me of how short life can be. I wanted heaven. I was tired of the wandering. When I went to another church, I just wanted to walk out. To lie on the floor, to give up. But God is relentless in His love. And in the love He has put in me.
Last fall Syd began to get discipled by two college students at the Stone. I can't tell you the impact they have had on his life. Or on mine. It was healing to me, life giving to me as well. They don't know anything about our history at the Stone other than we were past members. In the last few weeks, I have watched my sons worship at the Stone, listen to sermons at the Stone. It's changing them, it's sanctifying them. It's where they want to be. It's where Steve and I want them to be.
I have an amazing husband who does what is best for his family. Who loves Jesus most. Who is a rock. On Easter Sunday our local church planned an outdoor service. My heart wanted to be at the Stone. Steve was open to either church. I laid out a fleece of sorts and prayed that if God wanted us to be at the Stone, would he please make it rain on Easter. He did make it rain on Easter. Whether it was for the farmers or me, I don't know. But I took it.
I have no idea where/when/how the Lord will use me at the Stone, if at all. And I'm okay with that. I know that when you ask God to use you, he usually does. I completely trust that. I don't know what community will look like for our family. But I'm asking for lifelong friends. I have a few. I believe I'm supposed to have more, and for Steve as well.
So if you happen upon me at the Stone and I look like I've been crying, it's not because I'm an emotional person who can't get it together. It's because I know the cost and the wandering and what the road has been to get back to home. I know exactly what I've lost in five years of being gone, but I also know God is timeless and I'm older and wiser and my perspective is eternal. He is grace and I receive it.