This Morning's Prayer

At 'five-thirty' this morning I climbed into my truck and ventured - not far - but to the church and my day. Within moments after leaving home, I sat in our church's lot - where before me waited the large, silent, buildings lit by street lamps pushing back the dark. Sitting there I looked across her full scope to reflect upon the daily activity these buildings bear. I thought of the hundreds of people who enter and exit each door, of the stories, laughter and prayers heard, and of thoughts never expressed. I thought of my friends, of acquaintances, and of the powerful, insignificant and unknown - and, how, in just a few short hours, the lamps would be off, the dark would be gone, and the building would be bustling anew.

Just hours before I had walked down her halls - by the choir rehearsing near my office and into the youth room up the north-most stairs. In my walk I witnessed the unsure ways of teens and the determined ways of musicians, leaving one peer group for another more certain and work and office so gladly behind. Just one day before I stood in our Worship Center addressing 120 preschool Dad's, where I challenged them to love God absolutely, their wives passionately and their children unconditionally. And... had on the same night peeked in on a National Charity League chapter while planning, a Women's Bible Study sharing, a Boys Scout Troop learning, and a Dance Class busily tapping. So that as I looked upon the church this morning, I wondered what these buildings might say, if they could. Would they groan with pain - as some might think - or sing with utter joy?

A few months ago, as Belinda and I were visiting in New York City, we walked about Manhattan's Mid-Town with a vengeance. From 37th on the south to Columbia University on our north, we traversed above ground to see it all. We had a great time, but, to Belinda's dismay I could not stay out of the churches. They all interested me. Big ones, little ones, young ones and old - I was drawn to both their architecture and activity - or - in some cases, lack thereof. What made some busy? What made some not? What made some historic? And what made some just, well, old? Two churches stood out - one near the southwest corner of Central Park - Holy Trinity Lutheran (65th and Central Park West) - with a gorgeous red door that said 'come in,' and another some 45 or so blocks to the north - The Cathedral of St. John the Divine (110th and Amsterdam). For both were a sight to behold! In checking news about them on-line today, I found the cathedral strapped for cash and attempting to plan a real estate development on its property's north end, and the other - Holy Trinity - readying for an event they are calling, 'Treasuring Life' - in which they have planned four evenings focused on treasuring one's self, other's, creation, and their church. MMMMM????

It's now after lunch and I am looking out my window - and, confessedly, wondering of us. What will the ParkwayHills church family be doing when we reach 120 years old? We, a church yet to reach 24 years and in many ways just begun, what is said of us now?

Last week a lady from our community stopped me in the store to speak - she said she wanted to thank me for ParkwayHills, then started, "pastor, I am not a member, but I found myself in the church four times last week." I asked her, 'and what were you doing?' To which she replied, "well, twice I was listening to and studying God's Word, once I was praying with a group of friends, and the fourth time I was working with a charity league that serves our community." I said to her, 'good.' Then added, 'would you pray with me that what you experienced here last week will be the same as what will be experienced from this place ALWAYS?' She assured me she would.

Will you?

Pastor Sam