Mud and tape. Mud and tape. He hit a rhythm as he worked on the drywall in my kitchen. Mud and tape. Mud and tape.
"How do you convince people to use their gifts, you know, in the community?" Robert asked tonight. I wish I had a good answer.
All around us churches are filled with people who see the church as merely a refilling station. They come to church to get re-energized so that they can leave and go out into the world and serve God.
And there's an element of the good and beautiful there. It is good and beautiful for the people of God to present in the world God so loves. But why do we stand on the periphery of the church?
I'm currently standing on the periphery of the church.
I'm a Staffworker for InterVarsity, but I'm also an InterVarsity alumnus. I'm both the producer and the product. We want to raise up young people to bless the church. Four for fourty: serve with us, let us train you for four years and prepare you for a lifetime of service in the church. I want to be deeply involved in the life and ministry of a local church.
But I'm not.
Some of that has to do with our upcoming transition. Wisdom dictates that if you are having a baby and moving to Florida, you should step down from some of the places you're serving in the church. Better to do in now, planned and controlled than to get in over capacity and have to bail without notice.
But what do I do in the meantime, the time between now and when life reorients itself? If God has given me any gifts for the church, if I'm still a member of his body, what do I do during this season?
Pray? Train? Write? Nothing?
The body-of-Christ theology put forward by the Apostle Paul seems to assume that I will have something to offer even during this season. Every member of the body has something to offer. Even me. Even now.
I need to find out what that is.