This is one of the times of year I hate. HATE. Not because of allergies, though I’m pretty ticked at Adam and Eve for the whole fall of man thing. My gripe lies with the transient nature of our town.
Folks roll in for education (we’re in the shadow of Dear Old State), worm their way into our hearts, then take a piece of us with them when they move on to the next stop on their journey. I get that. I have come to terms with the fact that we’re not HOME for most of the people who good folks who worship with us every weekend. Our role is to equip them for where they’re going next, to invest in them for the good of the Kingdom.
Sometimes folks leave without saying goodbye. I understand. They can’t get to everyone on their way out. Other times I get a note, an email, or a totally-appropriate sidehug from someone on their last Sunday with us.
Tonight our ThirdPlace folks has a celebration for those peeps who are transitioning out of Happy Valley. They shared stories, showed pictures, ate and worshiped and sang…They talked about places that they have experienced God, times that they have been lifted up by the community they found together, ways that they’ve grown and become better people because of the relationships they’ve formed. Then we prayed. They all prayed for their friends, laying their hands on them, asking God to bless, to provide, to care for and go before, thanking him for time together, lessons learned, and life shared.
We don’t always do things well. Sometimes we get things flat out wrong. But tonight, there was a group of people gathered to do things right. Even if I don’t like it. Well done, ThirdPlacers.
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