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Oasis
My church has in the past few months been in a season of in-between. We’ve found ourselves kind of sitting in the dust, without pastor, without finances, without direction. We’ve found ourselves in front of the mirror, floundering, without security, without answers.
But in between half-heartedly-attended Sunday services and guest speakers of all ages and theological persuasions, there have been tiny pieces of something. Glimmers that are so small you hardly dare to call them hope. I think I heard the ever-confident admit they’re at a loss. I thought I saw someone from the East side invite over for supper someone from the West side.
I think we may finally be finding ourselves without use for our judgmentalism, bitterness, segregation, and facades.
I’ve been discovering the beauty in the weak and broken offerings of “oasis in a dry and weary land” that can emerge out of finding yourself in your own dry and weary land, desperately in need of oasis. The paradox of community…
