The Joy of Anticipation

The Joy of Anticipation
I often said in my college experience that the joy of anticipation is greater than that of realization. Here I am again in a state of wonderment and feeling the need to wander at the same time. That is where my fingers come in. They dance all over those white and black keys filling my space with music and dancing. There must indeed be love in the air or a meal that can not wait to be eaten.

By this time tomorrow I will know more about my church prospects. I can imagine my mind wondering in all manner of ways and at the same time wandering from where it all began to wherever it goes from there.

I will begin my story in the middle because that is where life was birthed. All that happened before that was preparation for a time that will be etched in my heart and mind as long as I have breath. In the year 1990 I had a phone call from a church about a half a mile from my house at the bottom of a hill. I was asked to do pulpit supply. I was all too willing since I was looking for work at the time. I preached once again and I had a phone call to meet with leaders of the church.

"We have enjoyed listening to you preach and we were wondering if you would want to pastor our church part time. We notice children that seem to always go by the church as if they were looking for something to do.

"I would be glad to lead your church. When I was a youth I had deacons take me under their wing and eventually I was Baptized and now I am a preacher of the gospel.

"We want to let you know that we do not know whether to stay open or close. We were hoping that you could help us make that decision."

"I would be glad to work with you lets see what happens."

I was real nervous about accepting the call. What was I getting myself into. All the while was saying,
"I am with you Gary hang on for the ride."

The first year was rather unevenful. Their were some kids that stopped by and said hello. I could tell they were interested in learning about God. I went to a conference during that first year that lit me up. The main speaker spoke and it was as if God was speaking to me.

"It is one thing to plant new churches, but what I want to suggest is that there is no greater joy than seeing a church once thought dead be raised back to life."
Right after that he showed us what he meant by making believe he was trying to catch fireflies. I could feel my heart catching on fire.

I came back to the church and from that time on things started moving. Kids were entering into the church building involved in Sunday school. An non profit organization called RACS (Ruby Avenue Community Services) was a willing partner that took up residence in the church. A vision was about to be caught. That year we had our first Vacation Bible school. It was a huge success. At one point one of the teachers was running through the neighborhood asking for helpers. One community leader talked about a hundred kids. I do not know if it was that many or not, but it sure felt like it.

From then on there was one story after another. We were a church of about twelve active adults serving hundreds of children. It was as if God was saying it is time to come back to life.
I do not regret a second of that magical ride that traversed ten years. I became a full time pastor. There were activities all through the week and ministries for everyone in the community. Everyone wanted to get in on our adventure. People from other churches helped. The church took the youth to church camps, Jamborees, they gave a concert at Green Lake Wisconsin. Our kids were learning about liturgical dance, tumbling and computer. People provided the resources and we did everything in our power to meet the need.

When we got to the tenth year of ministry things got stressed. The organization that was housed in the church was looking for ways to get the building licensed by the state. Thousand of dollars went into renovating the church in hopes of meeting more need. My feet grew itchy. I decided I would give God a hand. After all that God did for us I figured it was the least I could do. God said no, but of course I insisted and God eventually said be my guest.

It did not take long for me to get burnt out. The firefly that was in me got suffocated. In the meantime my wife was spending too much time with a coworker and everybody was taking notice. I refused to believe anything could be happening until she took this same man to meet her folks and went with him on a trip with the kids without me in attendance. Shortly after that she filed for divorce. Family members said to get on with my life. They knew Cindy. It was over. That same year the organization called RACS that I talked about won the best of Wyandotte Award. It was kind of like winning the Oscars. You might have also guessed that Cindy was the leader of RACS. The church decided to close soon after that. That was a decision that they would make and not be deterred.

A lot has happened since then. I have since remarried. Cindy is studying to be a pastor at the same seminary that I attended. The joy of anticipation is a song that continues to resound as grandkids are born and as we grow back into that same vision that energized us so long ago. The same love that brought us together brings us back together again. To God be the Glory.