This old house

Not quite in the city, not far enough out to be in the country; this old house sits just off the highway in between patches of what seemed like forests when I was a child, but now through these old man eyes is nothing more than a few trees bunched up together. White shudders, a front porch that begs for a rocking chair and a glass of lemonade, built of bricks made from the same red clay that the foundation sits on, the old house was so loved by the woman that lived in it. A family room that allowed her to look out at the front yard and gaze at the cars that would pass by; She often found herself imaging where each driver was off to in such a hurry. Maybe to pick up the kids from school or to meet the girl of their dreams for a first date written in the stars. A cozy kitchen (not too fancy not too plain), a couple bedrooms at the end of the hall that split the home down the middle, hardwood floors that recorded each footstep and would creak at times under the strain of thirty years of a life lived in happiness. The only thing the woman loved more than that old house was the decorations that surrounded the outside of it. 

Tacky, eccentric, weird...she wasn't naive enough to think that the world didn't call her names as they drove down the highway and saw the objects covering the outside of the home. Let them stare she'd say to herself, I love each and everything thing out there. And even she would admit there was a lot to love... those that mocked the old house couldn't see the memories that came to life each time the woman looked at them. 

There was the five foot tall replica Statue of Liberty that reminded her of that winter spent with her husband and children in New York City ice skating around Rockefeller Center until late in the evening. 

In the yard sat a metallic ball on a concrete pedestal that reflected the morning sun in a way that took her back to the beach and the first time she saw the sun rise over the ocean.  Her daddy was beside her and kissed her on the forehead like dads do when they realize how proud of their children they are. 

The bird bath that would bring the prettiest red birds to her yard each spring     In her mind she can still hear the children screaming in delight "First red bird of the spring! Make a wish Momma!!"

The outside of the old house was covered with all sorts of things like that...things that looked out of place and from anyone else’s point of view, cluttered the yard. "It's just too much stuff" those pesky drivers would think as they zipped by never giving another thought to the woman inside the home who would sit on that front porch in her later years and relive her life one piece of yard art at a time. 

Time has since passed and the old house now sits in the same place not quite in the city, not far enough out to be in the country. Windows busted, the door kicked in, a couch lies on its side in the front yard where the Statue of Liberty once stood tall. It's hard to imagine what happened to the woman that lived inside; it's safe to say though that whatever took place was tragic, life changing, the kind of thing we all dread will befall ourselves someday and pray at night for those who have lost so much. 

With its true love having abandoned it, the old house simply fell apart piece by piece. 

As Christians we surround ourselves with reminders of Jesus Christ. Of the sacrifice God made when he allowed his only son be nailed on the cross and tortured for our sins. We share quotes from the Bible on Facebook and we come to every service and we laugh and sing and pray...like the woman in that old house we put things in front of us that make us appreciate the life we live through following Christ's teachings and we smile each time we think about our blessings. But sometimes the blessings don’t speak so clearly.  It could be a series of minor annoyances: the announcements were better at the beginning of service, they never sing anything current. It might take one single event that shakes us up deep down in our bones: maybe you’ve lost someone and church just doesn't feel right. Maybe you got laid off; how is anyone supposed to survive without a paycheck? Whatever the cause, regardless of the reason...just like that old house and the woman that once loved it with all her heart,  there are times when we abandon our church...we abandon God. If nobody in this room tonight has gone through this before, I promise you we all know somebody that has.

We abandon God. We abandon the church. God doesn’t tell us to leave! To pack our bags and hit the road. The church doesn't lock the doors or put bouncers in the foyer to keep us out. We quit coming! We take the Bible and place it on a shelf, we hide the daily verses that used to brighten our day, we take all those reminders of God that some might say clutter our view of the real world, and we let them go wherever it is things go when they are no longer necessary in our lives.

...that old house still sits there today. It’s in desperate need of some love and attention, but it’s still there waiting for the woman that loved it with all her heart to return...just like your church and more importantly just like your God. 

Done let yourself or someone you love feel abandoned. The church is here. God never left you. We are all waiting for you to come back.