Last week, I went on a retreat to Morro Bay hosted by a group that I’ve been following called 3dm.
Alinn@ and I crammed our three kids, my parents, and my brother into our minivan, drove for 3 1/2 hours, ate a ton of french fries, and came away with a glimmer of hope.
I needed it pretty bad.
After our church closed its doors a month back, I started the planning process of planting a church. Only I had a really hard time articulating what that church plant would look like. And not surprisingly, I’ve had an equally hard time getting others to join me. It’s been a frustrating and disheartening time.
I didn’t get a full picture plan of the church plant. People didn’t magically fall from the sky saying that they wanted to join up.
But I had the opportunity to listen for Jesus with Alinn@. We spent a good chunk of time together without the kids. We made new friends who deeply cared about similar things. We were both challenged (in a good way) to evaluate and change our family routines (and thereby culture) to reflect our desire to follow Jesus as a family. And we came away with a few next steps.
What blew my mind about this new experience of hope is how not-mind-blowing it’s been. Seemingly ordinary enough things with a few nudges here and there and there’s a lightening where it was getting heavy fast. The heavens didn’t part but still God made His Presence known.