“Excuse me, that’s my seat, can you move over?”

“Excuse me, that’s my seat, can you move over?”

Not such a welcoming way to be invited into a new worship space. Yes, those words have been spoken at my church. When I first heard it, I stood in disbelief. I mean I know we joke about how we are creatures of habit and often sit in the same area, but to ask someone to move?

This past week, as I was walking down the aisle prior to worship I was stopped by two regular worshippers as they were getting their seats. I greeted them and they said, “We had to come early this week because other people were in our seat last week.”

I questioned, “Did you ask them to move?”

“Of course not, but we did come early this week.”

Is this because we know what we like? We want the right view, close to a speaker, near a fan, far from an A/C vent. It really is about comfort – I know on my couch at home I have a certain spot I like to sit in. Comfort is great – but it seems there becomes a point when comfort becomes a hindrance.

I was talking to a friend of mine who will occasionally attend an organized church service. I encouraged her to worship this week since it is Holy Week. She responded, “Well, I fear I’ll sit in someone’s seat.”

The visitor is showing empathy for the regular worshipper’s comfort – now that – blew me away. I never thought of it that way before. Then I realized that Jesus and his disciples never really had a chance to get comfortable. They were always on the move and in a new place. Maybe a reality we face in our current culture is that the church today has become too comfortable. And if that’s the case then is this a reason why so many don’t attend organized church services? People don’t know how to get in the club? or People don’t want to be a part of a club and therefore worship on their own?

Whatever the answer’s I cannot deny there is so much more behind, “Excuse me, that’s my seat, can you move over?”

Hostess in June

By Johanna Johnson

“Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.” (Hebrews 13:2)

One of the first things you could see walking into my grandparents’ home was a shelf full of guestbooks. These two dozen or so volumes contain the names of people well-known and un-known from all over the world, reflecting the many places my grandparents lived in their lives: South Dakota, Germany, Mexico City, Ethiopia, New York City, Pennsylvania, Los Angeles… Were these people all their dearest friends? Perhaps not before the door was opened to them, but by the time they had left the warm home my grandma cultivated, they had become brothers and sisters, leaving their mark, as so many others had, on the lives and hearts of the entire Solberg family.

Grandma June was the epitome of Hostess. Whether it be a stranger at the door, or a friend of a friend, or someone she had known for years, one was invited in, offered food and drink from what was sometimes a humble supply, and soon enough made to feel like the most interesting, important, and wonderful person in the world. This was the gift of June. Her warmth was undeniable and contagious, and she treated everyone she met like he or she was indeed an angel, sent from God to change June’s life. Beautiful artwork that decorated my grandparents’ home reflected the love they shared and received, as the people in their lives imparted these lovely gifts to them in gratitude for all that they had to give.

Grandma June now lives in an Alzheimer’s unit, hardly able to speak, but still bestowing her warm glow on everyone she encounters. Just to be in the presence of this amazing woman of faith is to feel the very warmth and love of God.

Orange Tree

This past week I had the pleasure of walking a labyrinth. I don’t know if you’ve ever walked a labyrinth. Most people think it looks like a maze. However, it’s not a maze. It only has one path to the center and the same path out. One purpose of walking a labyrinth is to go on a journey and rid of all the noise in our head so we can listen to God. I often focus on a word such as hope, joy, or Emmanuel. Once you reach the center then you are blessed to let go, sit down, and listen to God. Ideally, after you find peace with God in the center, on the journey out of the labyrinth, you can focus on how you can take that peace into the world.

As I was on the way out of the labyrinth I had not accomplished my ultimate goal. The noise in my head was still loud. I was actually looking at an orange tree off in the distance and thinking about how I really wanted to pick an orange from the tree before I left. While thinking this I stopped on the path for a moment, looked up to the heavens, and said, “Why can’t I simply be quiet.” Looking upwards I noticed that there was an orange tree right over my head. I had already walked the whole labyrinth and hadn’t noticed. And there was a tree right over my head. I noticed it after I had that desire.

As I paused I thought, “In life how often do we tend to only see what we’re looking for?"

We try to see what God wants for our life. We try to see where God is leading us. We try to be open to God's time and not our own. Yet, we can't help but look with a very focused lens. We tend to look for what we're looking for... we can't see the whole picture?

Lent is a time for renewal. Let's take time to renew our understanding of God and how we see God at work in our lives. Sometimes there is an orange tree right over your head - and you didn't even see it!