I am pretty easily amused. I seriously cannot remember the last time I complained of being bored, mostly because when in doubt I take a nap. But truly, I can tinker and putz my life away when given the opportunity. One of my favorite things to do with an extra hour or two is de-clutter…closets, drawers, countertops, medicine cabinets. You name it, I’ll chuck it. I mean…ahem….reduce, reuse, or recycle it. I don’t have the determination to have a yard sale or the creativity to reuse, so I mostly hand it over to the loving people at Goodwill who will even unload it from the back of my car.
I did a lot of sorting, tossing, and lightening of my loads over the past couple of days and have loved every minute of it. I feel clear-headed, and more reassured that I will not appear on an upcoming episode of Hoarders on A&E anytime soon. Harper has enjoyed it too as it provides her with countless mysterious objects to pull apart/taste and new items of clothing to “try on.”
|H "trying on" clothes|
|My desk upstairs after being de-cluttered. Big sigh.|
Uncluttered is also the word I used to describe a recent church experience. On my way home after the Lion King weekend I met some dear friends at their church in Durham, called Vintage 21.
Everything about this place was, well, uncluttered. The building was simple. There were no excessive banners, fake flowers, 12-piece bands, drive-in sized movie screens, ominous pulpits, or wingback chairs. The service was uncluttered. We worshipped. We received the Word of God. We took communion. We worshipped some more. We left. And in all of this, the expressed and unexpressed goal was to lift Jesus high. So anything that might distract from that, anything that might clutter the mind or heart, was left out, boxed up and put out with all of the other unnecessary trinkets that so often obscure the experience that is “church.”
There are more books, blogs, websites, seminars, conferences, and schools of thought dedicated to exploring and dissecting the modern church than you could even begin to imagine. It speaks to a lot of things about our culture, but I wonder if what it screams is our deep desire for the bottom line. We want to know Jesus. We want to see Jesus. We want to experience Jesus.
The “and how” part of this venture is up for debate. I, for one, would like to go on the record for my brothers and sisters over at Vintage 21. I was led and fed and I will be nibbling on the nourishment of that experience for weeks to come.
Speaking of nourishment, if you have two more minutes to spare, nosh on this. This is one of the hymns we sang that Sunday by an artist I love, who sings old hymns made new…. “Thy mercy is more than a match for my heart, Which wonders to feel its own hardness depart. Dissolved by Thy goodness, I fall to the ground And weep for the praise of the mercy I've found…”
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