Saying good-bye to good soil

Tomorrow morning I will say good-bye to our church. We've gone to Community Mennonite in Markham for six years. Although I'll visit there three or four more times before Cheryl and the boys join me in Montana next summer, after tomorrow I will be more guest than member.

I will give my official good-bye during children's time. Somehow that seems appropriate. Children know how to say good-bye and mean it. When I was ten or eleven, my best friend Danny Snyder stood with me at the end of a country lane near Bloomingdale, Ontario, waiting for my mother to come pick me up. It was the last time we would spend together before my family moved back to the United States. Danny said good-bye by crying. It was a gift I have never forgotten.

The sermon topic for tomorrow is on the soil imagery of Matthew 13:1-9 and 18-23. I will tell the children that there is only one thing I want them to remember about the passage. I will tell them that they need to remember that their church is good soil. And then I will ask them to help me say good-bye to their church.

First, I will read a list of the good, rich soil that has settled in our church. I will describe:
- Shirley's care in telling me about the escapades of her cat every Sunday when I sit next to her in the pew;
- Mertis's unfailing good humor even when she has to stay behind from a family reunion to care for her ailing daughter;
- Martha's evident joy when she starts prayer by clapping for Jesus;
- Paul's ability to draw wisdom from the animals in his life;
- Keith's faithful prayer requests for his clients, neighbors, friends and family;
- Bonnie's ability to make Zach smile by hugging him every time she greets him;
- Lee's willigness to do a new thing by reading scripture in many scripture dramas;
- David's courage to stand up and offer prayer for his family even though he is young;
- Grace's persistence and humor that does not let anyone think too highly of him or herself;
- Chuck's playing of his guitar until the strings break;
- Jocelyn's dancing;
- Steve's Christmas letters;
- Cyneatha's sermons that she gives without notes;
- Ivorie's ability to move us through meetings without breaking a sweat;
- George's smile;
- Laura's and Eric's and Karen's passion for all our youth;
- Delores's care in cutting out job advertisements when I was searching for work.

I will tell the children that the list could go on. There is so much good soil in our church.

But I will then ask them to remember all those people for me and tend them well. I will tell them that I can say good bye better because I know they will be there to grow in the soil that is their church. I can say good-bye because they are there to water and weed, to soak up the sun, to prune, and to bear good fruit. Both gardeners and gardened, the children like all members of the church will tend and be tended. They will do so well. I can say good-bye knowing that I have been so tended and have offered my tending as well.

Tomorrow morning I will say good-bye to our church. I will miss Community Mennonite in Markham. I will miss the good soil there.

Freshmen, Drunk People and July 4th

don't mix. In fact, what pops out after all the stirring and mixing is a concoction equivalent to a very crappy night. Let me explain.

I would first like to point out that I have nothing against any of these things by themselves. (With the possible exceptions of freshmen and drunk people) Anyway...the day went by perfectly fine. I marched with my school marching band in the annual Evanston Parade. This went fine...except for freshmen that can't walk in step of course...but was a good experience overall. I then met up with my parents and my cousin Erin and her boyfriend Matt who had come down for the afternoon. We conversed in highly intelligent and interesting conversation about music, long distance relationships, and devil cats. Apparently Matt is fond of devil cats and so we disposed of ours to him (Wonder how thats going.) When they left I just chilled for the rest of the afternoon and had a wonderful time of it. Here's where the junk starts to happen.

Every year, we try to make it down to the fireworks display on the beachfront that the city of Evanston puts on every year. Every year the beaches are packed with circles of suburbanites complete with their blankets, folding chairs, glow sticks and beer hiding hole digging shovels. (They dig holes to hide the beer...they don't hide the beer in the shovel). Its a joyous event. You might be expecting this to be the moment that the drunk people enter the scene. Alas it is not...this is the moment that the freshmen enter the scene (although I have a theory that the two may be one and the same...hormones do crazy things to people). A very large amount of freshmen to be exact, mobbing right behind the Menno suburbanite circle my family had established (its Menno because no beer was involved or dancing for that matter). Within a few minutes of being exposed to the awesome stupidity of the freshmen behind us I catch the statement "this is the awesome moment right when my medicine is starting to wear off." It was at then that I began to think about how hard it would be to grab one of them and throw them in the lake. Another defining moment of the night was the boy who pulled a girl(who was taller than him ha ha) in between me and the fireworks to whisper something very important and dramatic to which she replied "uh, you're such a liar." LIKE, OH MY GOD. So as you can see [no meds+drama=ruined fireworks]. Ya don't learn stuff like that in high school.

Now to the drunk people. Around midnight I decided to head to bed to get some sleep. Unfortunately, drunk people like to be with each other i.e. a July 4th party. So I'm lying there with my room exposed to the outside sounds thanks to my air conditioner. Now, most parties produce a incomprehensible babble similar to white noise. Not drunk parties, though. Noo drunk parties insist on singing the National Anthem at the top of their voices. Drunk parties insist on talking at a very loud babble...not similar to white noise. What does this lead to...no sleep.

So that was my July 4th...how was yours?