Leaving church

You wouldn't think much was going on, due to the horrendous lack of blog

posts, but that is oh so untrue.

Over the last several months we have been walking through what can only be described as the most emotionally bipolar season of ministry; leaving church.

Mertens, Texas, a town of 125 (we lost about 25 elderly in the last census, as they were sure the government was going to use the information to spy on them). How in the world can you fall so deeply in love with a town of 125? I'm not sure, but it happened. I love this place. It's my home. It's the place where Ray and I spent the first three years of our new life together, figuring each other out and learning how to be married. It's the place where we've endured some of the hardest and most sorrowful days of our life.

It's the place where we were molded into ministers.

It's our home.

We knew this day would come.

My middle sister, Melissa, is a military wife. She knew what she was getting into. She understood that she was forfeiting the right, the choice and the freedom to decide where she lives and when she moves. She has a piece of art work hanging near her front door that reads,

"Home is where the Army sends us."

It's the same.

We knew that, we understood.

Following a call into vocational church ministry you forfeit choosing how, when and where you will go. You listen for the voice of God and watch for his direction and leading. And then, you go where God says go, trusting.

Sunday, September 11th, Ray was overwhelmingly and with great excitement called as pastor of First Baptist Church Shawnee, Oklahoma. In the church's 120 year history, no incoming pastor has ever received such a high vote (we're talking 99.7ish% which, non-baptist friends, is huge).

This process has been long and emotional. When we live life together with people so closely and you can't tell them this massive thing that's in the making, it's painful. Half the time you want to be excited, the other half you're sad and all the while you feel like you're cheating on your church. Sounds odd, but it's true. You feel like you're cheating on them and feel sick about the break-up you know is in the near future.

Faith.

Without complete faith that this is where God is leading us, and trusting that God will take care of all the details (i.e. finding a home), I'm positive this move would be impossible. It dawned on me a few weeks ago that I've lived in the same 3 hour radius for the last 22 years. My parents have just moved back home (about 45 mins from us), and I'm quickly approaching the 3rd trimester of our first successful pregnancy and we're moving?! To Oklahoma????? And here I've been trying in vain to get us to Colorado or San Francisco.

Nevertheless, God has been faithful to fill me with unending and very unsarah-like peace through this process. Doors have not merely opened, but have been blown down and cleared away so that we might not have any confusion concerning if we should walk through them or not. It is clear that God has been preparing Shawnee for a very new and different kind of pastor (With a history of older men with PHDs, a 27 year old and his 25 year old wife is quite daring). Although I do not know the plans God has for Mertens, I trust that just as God has been preparing us to leave, God has been readying someone else to come. We spent the majority of the day yesterday in people's homes and offices and on the side of a dirt road as a massive fire was put out, sharing the news. Not surprisingly we were overwhelmed with love and support. The people of Mertens continue to be so good to us.

So here we go. I'm gonna be an Okie.

(I'll be 29 weeks pregnant our first Sunday)

Time to pack.