Picket Fences and Rainbows

Meeting up with friends recently threw me into a particularly nostalgic mood. As is the usual case with this mind God gave me, that brings up both good and bad memories.

I'm very thankful for long time friends. God uses our shared experiences to remind us of His faithfulness during the difficult times, and His provision during the lean times. Sweet fellowship, tears, shared blessings and burdens renew our spirits for the journey ahead, and remind us of our purpose to serve Christ. These memories, precious and rare, are gifts.

And then, when the warmth of that sweet fellowship begins to fade, my mind (bless its heart) goes meandering down some of the darker paths in my past. But I've learned that those darker memories sometimes can also be a blessing in a different way.

Growing up in a very fundamental background, I followed the rules. I was the good girl. The example. The one church leaders pointed to and said "Ask her to help, she'll be glad to do whatever."

And they were right. I was dependable, hard-working, smart, and willing. I kept the nursery. I taught Sunday School. I sang solos when asked. I dressed modestly (no pants and always hose). I acted appropriately. Blushed accordingly, and I obeyed my parents, and respected my elders. My dad was a deacon, and church pianist. My mom taught Sunday school, and spoke in ladies's fellowship groups. In other words, we were a very good, church-going family. Indeed, we had two churches get their start in our living room.

I was saved at an early age. I am sure of that. God gave me assurance early and that has never been much of a personal struggle. My struggles come from a misperception rooted early in my life. The misperception that if I were the "good, go-to, I'll get right on that and work myself to death girl" that everything in life would turn out correctly. My spouse would be the love of my life. My children would be perfect and serve the Lord, and life will be easy-peasy, white picket fences, and rainbows.

All those high school chapel sermons said as much. If we did as we were told, and the guys grew to lead their homes, and the gals learned to submit to the guys, then God would bless us with sweet, obedient children and a Heaven on earth existence. Those families with problems like divorce, and drinking, and wayward children? They blew it badly somewhere, strayed and God had withdrawn His blessing. And we all knew that was pretty much the end of the world. One terrible thing, and that was it. Wasting away in the sea of sin until finally rescued by death or The Rapture, just barely saved by the skin of their teeth.

So, I went to weekend camps, threw my stick in the fire, and wept and prayed. I was always going to the altar at church to confess yet another weakness. And frankly, I felt being a Christian was really, really hard. Nevertheless, I continued on to attend a Christian University, and the teaching there was a little deeper, but the main point was the same. Do right, and life will be good. I followed the path set before me. Broke up with the guy that my parents didn't like, and married the guy that they did like. What in the world could go wrong?

In the next post, I'll continue down some of the dark paths of my memory, but not to worry, there are a few rainbows ahead.

Looking back to learn how to go forward,
Teapotjan

Hippy Teapots

I remember the shock wave that went through my small childhood church when they first walked in to the auditorium. If my mother had not made me turn around for the sake of politeness I would have stared at them as any fundamentalist nine year old child would at this embodiment of sin. The church members initial reactions ranged from looks of disgust to an actual withdrawing to other, safer pews. I snuck glances at them whenever mom wasn't looking at me. Sinners had entered the church! It was a young couple holding their beautiful little blonde-haired girl. He had hair down to his waist, and she had a dress halfway up her legs. I could only think "hippies!" It was 1970 after all.

The young couple came to church because they were scared and needed help. Their daughter showed adverse signs from their use of drugs and they wanted to change whatever they could to help her. Many of the church members truly would have nothing to do with them. Nothing. They raced by them avoiding all eye contact as if a glance would send them into drug-induced hallucinations. Thinking back, I am amazed that this couple didn't turn away from church and God completely. But the concern for how their lifestyle could hurt their child had drawn them in and their love for her kept them there long enough to meet one of the few people in that church that knew how to act. It was my mom. 

She and my dad invited them to dinner, cooed and cuddled their little girl, and led them to Jesus. For several years, that couple and their children were frequent guests in our home. They grew in the Lord, completely left behind all use of drugs, and raised lovely, healthy children. I haven't heard from them in decades, but I'm sure I'll get to see them again in Heaven.

It may seem that this kind of thing wouldn't happen today, but it does. I've seen it. Big "F" fundamental folk still seem to expect the unsaved to act. . . well . . . . saved. Any difference in dress, appearance, and action warrants a withdrawal. A guy with hair over his ears, a girl with a pierced cartilage, clothing too casual, too denim, too short, too long are all deemed worldly. And the very people that should be reaching out, self-proclaimed Christians, instead pull back, hush their children and warn them to stay far away. Then place their children in Christian schools, Christian sports leagues, Christian clubs, and then wonder why they can't handle the real world when they get there.

Now, I don't think that there is anything wrong with any of the Christian things mentioned above. I'll get into some of that in another post. But I do take issue of the complete separation of Christians from everything and everyone in the world. It leads to the same wide-eyed shock I felt when that young couple walked into my church seeking help. I can't help but think that the drop in church attendance and the influence of God's people came from this "not of of any part of this world no way no how" mentality. 

Again, in the interest of keeping these entries short, I'll stop for now and write more tomorrow. Meanwhile, let's examine our reactions to those who are not like us in spiritual matters and compare them to Christ's reactions during His time on earth. And pray that God gives us the ability to reach out to Hippy Teapots.