One year ago, I had every intention of throwing a big birthday bash for my bride. She had turned 65. But my unexpected lung surgery tabled that aspiration. So I’d throw it a year later. Enter, Coronastorm. So already on my calendar for next year, we’re going to celebrate Mari’s 65th birthday big time, when she turns 67.
Certain birthdays are purposed to be more memorable than others. One’s 1st birthday is designed to take pictures of the toddler wearing more of his birthday cake than eating it. One’s 16th birthday is designed to bring parents to their knees in fervent intercessory prayer – for the safety of every resident within a 25-mile radius. “The kid’s got wheels. Lord, help us all.” One’s 21st birthday is designed to announce that a son or daughter has achieved chronological adulthood – which remains anywhere from 5 to 25 years away from reality. (One’s 40th birthday gives the adult-child a 2nd shot at adulthood.)
This coming Tuesday, our church celebrates its 7th birthday. Back on May 5th, 2013, God breathed into our church nostrils His Breath of Life. We held our inaugural service at a local nursing home, Alexandria Manor. Why there? Because we had no facility of our own. For over a year, we ping-ponged back and forth between there and Maranatha Family Christian Fellowship. We will forever be indebted to both communities for their gracious provision.
In fact, at that time we didn’t even have a name yet to call ourselves. Most certainly we knew what we wanted to be about: we yearned to be a worthy reflection of the One Who is the Sole “Light of the World.”
So here we are now, seven years later – and our longing has only intensified with the addition of so many more members – and our gifted building. If you want to hear more about our journey of faith, you will have to tune in this Sunday morning as I preach on the subject, “A New Thing – Revisited.”
