Here’s a little story I’ve been sitting on until I felt like it was time to tell it.
One of the hardest things in the months immediately after we shut down the church plant was going back to church. Mainly because of embarrassment. We visited several churches during that time and the one that made the most sense for our family was the one I least wanted to attend.
One reason was that I knew we’d see a few former members of our launch team there. I was dreading the awkward small talk and forced pleasantries. Another reason is that I had spoken at this church when we first arrived in Austin and told them about our dream of starting a new church in the area. The reaction from the church was mixed. The leadership was super supportive, but I received more negative comments from a handful of the members of this church than any other that I spoke to about the plant. It was as if our attempt to plant a new church was an affront to their existence; like they were saying, “Austin doesn’t need any more churches. We’ve got it covered.”
Now, here I was, about to walk back into this church, hat in hand, in effect saying, “Remember me, I was the guy who moved here to start a church just up the road from you. I’m here today because I didn’t git-r-done.”
Of course, I had maximized the negative reaction I expected to receive. I imagined being accosted in the foyer by someone wanting to interrogate me. I assumed people would be pointing out and whispering about the “failed church planter” who just walked in the door. There was nothing realistic or rational about these fears. I was hurting and anxious. The truth is there were probably less than ten people there that day who recognized me or knew my story.
We intentionally arrived a few minutes late to avoid running into people and sat on the back row. We slipped out early during the final song. Heather went to get the boys from Children’s Church and I headed for the bathroom. I walked quickly and kept my head down like a self-conscious Jr. High boy, hoping no one noticed me.
That’s when I heard someone say, “Hey Wade!”
It was Sydney, a 13-year-old family friend. She has Down’s Syndrome. She’s also a hugger. Her hugs are big and strong and last just a second too long. (I’m not a hugger so in my opinion all hugs last longer than they should.)
When I looked up, she waved and ran across the foyer and gave me one of her speciality hugs. Just like she always does when she sees me at the gym or at a restaurant.
But this time it was different, more than just a typical Sydney greeting.
As she ran toward me, I heard God telling me through Sydney, “This is exactly how I feel about you. Stop worrying about what anyone else thinks.”
Her hug melted my anxiety and the shame dissipated. I felt myself relax. I saw a few people I knew and walked over and initiated a conversation. I really didn’t care what they thought about me. As long as God and Sydney were glad to see me, no one else’s opinion really mattered.
There I was, a 38-year-old, non-hugging preacher with two degrees and shelves of books filled with hard to pronounce theological words, showing up at church with so much fear and anxiety that only an over-the-top emotional display of acceptance from Sydney could cut through the fog of my shame and show me just how good it was for me to be there.
Turns out I was the one with “special needs” that morning.
And Sydney saved the day.
Telling Stories, Asking Questions, Learning Lessons
Dang it, Wade. You just HAD to save this until it was too late to put in my book, didn’t you? 🙂
Beautiful.
Mike–I was reminded of all your stories about Megan as I was writing this story.
I agree with Mike, Wade. This post would have made a great addition to Mike’s book. But, then on the other hand . . . it’s probably much more suited to YOUR book – which ever one you write where this will fit, and I know it will in ONE of them.
Wonderful story, and I’m glad you’ve shared it with us today. I had a really hard time many years ago trying to go to church after my divorce. My younger son & I moved away from where we’d lived nearly his entire life and I felt as if I were branded somehow because wherever we visited among the several churches in our new area, people would immediately ask about my family life, i.e., husband, etc.
I did not feel like I fit in ANYWHERE, plus had a lot of hurt & pain from the place we left, where members mostly turned against me in the divorce, not knowing (or caring) about the facts of the matter. (It was a really small Phariseeical type group overall who caused several young hurting, divorcing Christians to leave churches of Christ.)
I wish I had had someone like Sydney back then, but thank God, we finally found a wonderful fellowship where we were welcomed with open arms. Thank God he works in our lives the way He does through other loving people!
Dee
Dee–thanks for sharing part of your story here. I wish more Christians understood and appreciated just how hard it can be for some people to walk in the door of a church on Sunday morning (for any number of reasons).
One thing my experience taught me was the value of embodied acceptance. Sometimes a hug is the only thing that will do the trick, even when you don’t like getting hugged. 🙂
I needed to read that story. Sacred space. Gospel words.
Thanks Josh.
Wade, Another reason we all love Sydney!
Kevin! Thanks for stopping by the blog. It’s about time for some tacos I think.
I remember returning to the church where I’d grown up in CA, but this time I was a married woman who had been living on the East coast the last 3 years. I think everyone just assumed we’d assimilate because my family was all there, but it was months before we really felt like we belonged. We were struggling to find our place, struggling to buy a house (we had three offers rejected/out-bid) and I remember the day I started crying – loudly – during the closing prayer and couldn’t stop. Everyone around us just got up and left, but one couple came over and prayed with us. I will never forget that kindness – I remember even what he said to me: “God provides us with everything we need. But maybe not everything we want.”
God provided for us, emotionally, that day and went on to help us ease back into what we consider now to be our extended family.
Great post – so happy to have found this.
Great story Adelle. I’m glad you jumped into the conversation. I hope you’ll keep coming back and commenting.
Stories like this are the gems that make your blog worth a daily reading, not that everything else you have to write is in anyway intellectually inferior or not relevant, but the times where you write about the in-your-face way that God has met you where you are at are the ones that I relate to the most and remind me of the person I truly admire.
Hopefully you’ll never have to experience that first-time-in-church-feeling after a stint in the big house. My Sydney’s were named Makayla and Lori. This little story would make a great Celebrate Recovery testimony.
Thanks Robert. Blessings on your journey.
Wade – thanks for sharing this. Some of the most alone times in my life have been sitting in a packed auditorium at church. Thankfully, God has provided me some “Sydney moments” where I was reminded to just “be still and know…”
Looking forward to Torchy’s next week and excited to catch up.
p.s. this is a side note, but it’s really cool to see such a wide variety of people commenting on your blog. Some are faith heroes of mine that I don’t know well (Mike Cope, Josh Graves); Kevin Withem (also a faith hero) is a personal friend and mentor at Westover; and Adelle and I go way back to Freshman year at Pepperdine! Love how you’ve connected so many people in my life with this one blog post. Very cool!
One of the best things about blogging is the unforeseen connections that form over time. I love it.
Grace, Gospel, Humility, Shame, Love, Redemption, Joy.. Sounds like a pretty good day!!! God Bless You.
This story touched my heart so much, Wade. I’d love to meet Sydney some day and get one of her hugs. You and Heather came to our congregation about the time our Down Syndrome dolly Abby was born–December 1996. Abby isn’t a hugger, but she has a genuine love for God and His people. For a while her hopeful first words each morning were, “Church today?” I used to have to hide her Kids-4-Him shirt until Wednesdays or she’d have worn it every day of the week. She can belt out all the verses of “How Great Thou Art”right on pitch but cannot speak in full sentences. “Worship God” is her favorite phrase. If only all us Christians had the same attitude–what a world it would be!
thankyou for being so open and honest, it helps me so much. I am greatly encouraged by your blogs.
billy
Precious story, Wade. Thank you for sharing yourself and giving us a vivid picture of God’s love for us.