Wonderful Sunday

Let's start off by me informing you that I can ramble. I'm feeling kinda rambly.

Growing up, I always believed in God and knew I was Christian, but church wasn't really a part of our everyday lives. We went to church exactly 4 times a year... Ash Wednesday, Palm Sunday, Sunday after Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve.

When we moved to Wisconsin, we chose to live in the same town as Andy's second cousin, who happens to be a pastor. She and her husband are pastors, actually. So we began going to their church. Regularly. Not 4x a year regularly, but just-about-every-Sunday regularly. And it was awesome. Such a great church family, lots of community involvement, global causes, and very welcoming. I became a member. Andy and Aubrey were baptized here. Lauren, too, when she was born.


However, a few months ago, something small happened at church that turned my stomach. Really, it's small and not the point of the story, you just need to know that after that incident my motivation for going to church was pretty low. I don't need to go to church to fill my spiritual cup, but I love to go when I enjoy it. And I know that Jesus knows my heart, and my not going to church every Sunday is okay. So this morning I really really didn't want to go, but I felt I should, and I knew that once I got there, the music would feel amazing. It always does.

So I went. With both girls. Aubrey chose to stay in the nursery the whole time, and Lauren stayed with me until I read the bulletin and saw that I was to do prayer ministry. So, down to the nursery Lauren went, and I did prayer ministry. At our church, that's held off to the side of the alter during communion. Anyone wanting someone to pray with them or for them may come over and we pray. *

The first woman to approach me, we'll call her Sal. Sal's got cancer. This is the 2nd time she's had it. It's really taking it's toll on her. Her doctor informed her this week that the drug she's using now is her last hope. There are 2 (FDA-approved) drugs she hasn't yet tried - this one and one that knocks your immunity down to nothing. Sal's immunity is really low anyway, she can't try the other. This is it. So we prayed. And cried. And talked. And cried.

This entire time, Steve is doing prayer ministry next to me, with other folks. I notice Julie standing back aways, and she never approaches Steve, even though he's 'open.' She waits for Sal to leave me. Which took awhile. Communion was done, things were moving right along. So, Jule approaches me and asks that I pray for her heart. She's younger then I am (I'm 28) and she's got a heart condition. Has started new meds and is hoping for the best, but might be pregnant, and a pregnancy is not what her heart can handle right now. Pray, cry, talk, comfort... all the while I really kept feeling like everything was going to be fine, and I told her such. Not in a way to dismiss her feelings, just that for what it was worth, that's what my intuition was saying.

Being prayer minister today was the last thing I set out to do this morning. I'm so glad I didn't skip church, and that I got to pray with Sal and Julie. That filled my spiritual cup more than any song could today, it was just what I needed.

* Praying out loud is a fear of mine. I'm not comfortable doing it. I never would've chosen to do prayer ministry at all. In fact, I didn't choose to do it. One night last April I was laying in bed. Everyone else was asleep, I was almost there. Out of the blue, clear as day, I thought to myself, "I should really get over this fear of praying out loud, what is that all about anyway?" Then I fell asleep, woke up the next day and forgot that I had told myself I needed to conquer this fear. Until I got the mail that afternoon. A letter from the volunteer coordinator at church, asking me to join the prayer ministers, and noting that she'd been praying for some time and I that my name came to her. So, with a little nudge from God, I am working on this fear of mine. One random Sunday at a time.

In other news, we might wake up to snow. So I ran out and clipped my asters, one lonely daisy and my pineapple sage, and they are all crammed into my Grandma Ruthie's pewter pitcher right now, making my table look so welcoming and put-together. I rarely have cut flowers in the house, but I need to do it more often. Ha, great time to make this resolution, as we are expecting snow, huh? (Store-bought bouquets are just not the same!)