one

Even though I had agreed in advance to speak on Sunday morning, when I showed up at Martinsville Friends Church yesterday I didn’t quite feel ready to fill in for the pastor. 

As I prayed and listened last week for what God wanted me to share on Sunday morning, I never did feel a clear leading.

Part of the challenge, it seemed, was that I didn’t know who attended this church. How could I speak to them when I didn’t know who they were? I didn’t know their hearts. Their why, where, what, and hows.

I ended up taking with me the message I shared at a different church the Sunday before, but I wasn't convinced that I was actually going to offer this when the time arose. The prayer that kept rising for me was, "God, whatever you want to happen on Sunday, I trust you." 

What happened was that one person showed up. One.

We chatted casually while she opened up the church. It was my first time visiting, but I immediately felt at home. Barb propped open the doors with bricks to allow for a breeze and let passersby know we were there and they were welcome. She unlatched and pushed open the wooden-framed windows which didn’t have screens and shed light on many a cobweb. I sat on the front pew, padded with green velvet cushions. A portrait of a youthful Jesus hung at the front of the church. An out of tune piano was off to one side.

It was nothing like my grandparents’ home in Iowa, and yet I felt nostalgic for the old farmhouse. A place of comfort and so much history. Where love abounded and cobwebs were either trivial or a welcome sign of life. Laughter was encouraged rather than quieted. And there was no pressure to be “prepared” – you took what life brought you when it was brought.

When the church was properly “open”, Barb sat down across the aisle from me and we began talking more intentionally. She said she felt called to be here in this place, to open the doors and windows, to welcome anyone who might enter.

Sometimes we are simply called to show up.

Our conversation ranged from our experiences growing up in church to after school programs for kids, reaching out to our communities to modeling integrity in our jobs and families, wondering why church isn’t a priority for folks to the fresh faith of our youth.

When it became clear that no one else was going to join us, we joined hands and prayed, thanking God for His Word which says that where two or three are gathered He is there. 

I helped Barb close the wooden-framed windows. The doors were locked for another week.

“I’m glad I got the chance to know you better,” she said as I waved goodbye.

When I got in my car I saw that two hours had passed.

I realized that if I had showed up and 50 people were there to worship, to listen to me speak for 20 minutes and say a few prayers, I could have left in less than an hour without knowing anyone and without them knowing me.

But because one showed up I had the opportunity to be part of the ministry that I love and feel called to. To know people. And to be known. To be led by the Spirit rather than the clock.

You’ll remember the challenge that I felt as I was trying to prepare for Sunday morning. I didn’t know what to say because I didn’t know who the people were.

Now I know. At least I know one. And one makes all the difference.

EMBRACE ONE.