My dad is a pastor, and I grew up at the church that he started when I was just a baby. It was a mission start congregation with its first gatherings meeting in the basement of our house. I was just born a month before the church was born, so I can't really say I remember this phase. I have been told that we carried all of the folding chairs and hymnals in our trunk though, so that mom could never use the trunk to hold her groceries.
The church grew as I grew and I have always loved this congregation. I was fully involved, fully known and fully appreciated by the family that made up Shepherd of the Valley Lutheran Church.
When I went to college I taught Sunday school at an local congregation. But it was hard to get to know people. I loved my third graders and the college friend I taught with. We had a great time in that classroom every Sunday, but worship was hard and I never really felt a part of the larger church there.
When I was at the seminary, I was assigned a congregation to volunteer at 10 hours a week. Because I had come from a growing, thriving congregation, I was told they were going to give me an opportunity to experience the other end of the spectrum. And that they did. It was a tough congregation. Things had been done the same for 100 years, and to suggest any different was not only insulting, but it was an insult to the dead relatives of the living members who made that the law 68 years ago. (sometime I'll write about my attempt to volunteer for the Swedish meatball dinner. Bad times.) The church was made up primarily of three big extended families and it operated similar to a very
dysfunctional family reunion. On a postive note, I have heard that a new pastor has been called to this church and some cool things are now happening...
When Rory and I first got married we periodically attended a huge church in
Burnsville, Minnesota. We liked the worship, the music, the preaching, but we were there only a handful of times, kind of tried to get involved, but nothing really ever clicked. During that time we also frequented my home congregation and Rory's home congregation, two churches that still love us to pieces and we love them to pieces too.
We moved out to Montana for a season and stumbled upon a tiny little church that we fell in love with from the start. I wrote all about it
here. There was something about this little body of believers that felt so real. The music left lots and lots to be desired, but the preaching was good and the biggest thing was that we were known in that church. The 50 or so members were excited when we walked through the door and the feeling was mutual.
We have spent many Sunday's worshiping in different congregations just as a visitor. Rory and I both love visiting churches, seeing what God is up to in a congregation and enjoy meeting the people that make up a particular church. I also have spent lots of Sundays worshipping at a Bible camp while working on staff, and lots of Sunday's working at the nursing home, bringing men and women off of their floor down to the chapel to gather and break bread.
When we moved to Nebraska we quickly found a large congregation about 15 minutes from our house. The music was unbelievable, the preaching superb, the kids program above average. The Sunday morning worship was exactly what we were looking for. We have been a part of that congregation for a year now, and just at our one year mark we realized that after a year of trying, we still didn't really know anyone. We joined Bible studies, small groups, prayer meetings, and went to various gatherings, but the Bible studies all ended, the small groups seemed to fizzle and in the end we realized that we were playing the roles Sunday morning worshippers well, but truly were not actively a part of this community.
So we had a conversation last week, discussing how we wanted to be a part of a church in Gretna, where we live. A smaller church that we could really plug into. We are a part of a small group with our apartment neighbors who attend a community church down the road. Though we love that small group and love that church, Rory had visited
another Gretna congregation once and kept talking about it.
So today we went and were immediately welcomed. Upon arrival we were passed from person to person as we were introduced to lots of people. We stayed for pizza after the service and then Rory stuck around for a few hours and helped move this church from their current space (store front) into a new building where the congregation will now meet to worship. We were apart of this one-year-old church's first move and it felt so good to be so involved.
We were looking for community and ways that we can use our own gifts within a worshiping body, and I am confident that this will happen. The worship was great, the music simple, the preaching solid and the people genuine.
I wanted to write all of this out after feeling the excitement of being welcomed and a part of a
congregation. Because it really does amaze me how hard it truly is to find and then belong to a church. Rory and I are two outgoing, church-loving people and we have sincerely struggled with finding a church home. I think part of the problem is that we have been so nomadic, so our seasons at a church are short. And I would say that our different church backgrounds makes some difference, but honestly, we both are one in mind for what we appreciate and look for in worship. Our different denominational upbringings isn't really a huge deal as long as the church a Bible believing, scripture preaching, alive congregation.
So for those of you loving your church, keep an eye out for the new guy. And for those of you looking for a church to love, don't give up. I wrote my seminary thesis on the decline of denominational loyalty and how a lot of people are simply looking for a church they love more than a denomination to ascribe to. I would encourage you to find a church that you can plug in to, where you are an active part of the community and where you feel fed and nourished each week. I'll keep you posted on our transition into this new community of believers.
I am so sad the Olympics are over! For me, the Olympics are basically a two-week joyful holiday that I anticipate with as much enthusiasm and excitement as my birthday. This time around, I was shocked by how many people didn't realize they were going on. The way I see it, this would be like being unaware that it is Christmastime.
Our friends are Adam and Jordan. 
The menu was diverse and delicious. We feasted and then we sat and watched the closing ceremonies. The closing ceremonies were a bit off the wall, sort of goofy and in the words of the announcer guy, "campy." Campy! I'm not sure what that means, but I think I agreed...
The first item on our Olympic menu represented France. Brie cheese with raspberry jam wrapped in crescent roll dough. Baked for 20 minutes at 350, this was delicious and easy. Serve it with crackers and you've got a crowd pleaser on your hands.
Jordan and Adam brought Cuban sandwiches. Wowza. Pork tenderloin on wheat buns with mayo, mustard, swiss cheese, ham and pickles. All baked together to perfection. I had two.
Chex mix for the Czech Republic. I kill myself.
Store bought egg rolls and sweet and sour sauce.
I went with meatballs, though it was pointed out to me that I could have added Sweden to the smorgasbord if I had really thought through this menu item. They weren't really all that Italian either. I used equal parts grape jelly and chili sauce, and even though you can see the pool of grease on the spoon, they were yummy.
Hungary was my catch all country. This flag could have gone on anything, but we chose these fabulous bars Jordan brought. Could have made a Switzerland flag for Swiss chocolate too, though...
Mexico was represented with this carne chip dip I got from taste of home. It wasn't the favorite on the table, so there is not need to post the recipe :)
And finally, the United States came through with this football of goodness filled with velveeta, beef and hormel chili (no bean) sauce. I do believe it was this American cuisine that cemented us to the couch for the next few hours as we discussed the competitive events we had brewing in our tummies.
I had two weeks to plan for this party, and will be planning for my Summer Olympic Opening Ceremonies party for the next 2 1/2 years. Bring it on London!!!
Donna's class was full of new techniques to try. We made our album from scratch, something I have never done before. This album was made out of cut cardboard, cut in staggered sizes with a box cutter, and each page was covered with paper or fabric, punched with holes holes and 
This book is still in process, but my weekend plan is to finish it...I'll keep you posted!