Here is my current psychosis: Moving across the ocean is a drop in the bucket compared to visiting a new church for the first time. Which is too bad, really, as it's in the job description right now. Visit churches, meet people, listen to their stories, see what God is doing. I love all those things, except the visit churches part, which I hate. Super hate.
I wake up late and grumpy. I put on my dour face. I stare in the mirror for long stretches. I am short with the children. I am angry with Matt. I get in the car feeling all the feelings. I stare out the window in search of a way out. I literally drag my feet.
Being new, feeling different, being conspicuous, looking lost... this is what I do and am and look like every day! I don't know the songs or the rhythm. I don't know where our children go or when to stand or sit. In the shops or the school yard, at the meetings or in the church. I don't know anything at all.
It is a holy strangeness, feeling called by God to do something that requires you do something that you really don't want to do. In fact, even if you want to do it, you feel really bad at doing it. You have nothing of yourself to give or offer that will enable you to do it. You are almost certain that you will fail at doing it.
And so, we offer up our complete incompetence.
We ask, be my strength in spite of me.
We admit, I hate this, God, is that ok?
We say, You are enough when I am nothing.
We pray, You are here and we are Yours.
And we sit in the pew (or the back garden or under the covers) and wait for Him to show up. Which He does, always does. Turns out, He was just waiting for you this whole time. Even in church.
What was the last thing you really didn't want to do?