I stretch clean sheets on the bed to clear my mind and he sits in his favorite chair, tweaking tonight’s sermon.
He’s gesturing with his hands and I’m writing in my mind.
“We’ve spent a year being quiet,” I say aloud.
He looks up and over his glasses. “What do you mean?”
“Well, we’ve been laying low. What would all of this look like if we quit laying so low? If we didn’t bite our lips and cast our eyes downward when someone asked us about our church? What if we looked at this call, this ministry, this leg of our journey, as a season, instead of where we would die? Would we do things differently if we felt like we only had 3 years to plant this church?”
I toss pillows on the bed and he says nothing, for a good, long moment.
“What if we asked the Lord to enlarge our territory?” I ask, just for good measure. He waits again and then takes off his glasses.
“What if we linked arms with other churches in the area to reach the city and all of us stopped worrying about how many people sat in our services? What if we all stopped competing with one another and loved one another? What if we were less concerned about our church’s uniqueness and more concerned about how well we loved?” he quickly responds.
“How much more could the Lord enlarge His territory if we stopped comparing and competing and consuming?” he asks.
I lean my head into the door frame and he’s right.
“What if I stopped counting people and starting loving them, instead? What if I spent more time loving people than worrying about how my words are received by the people I claim to love?” he adds, his own dose of good measure.
I hear the kids gathering in the kitchen for snack and I leave our bedroom for the pantry. I serve crackers and cheese, but I roll Thad’s words around in my mind.
What if we stopped competing with one another? What if we loved people and pointed them to Christ and even discipled them, no matter which church they chose to attend? What if we helped one another fulfill the Great Commission, to go into all the world and make disciples, instead of concerning ourselves with making people followers of our church?
How much more would Christ be glorified?
I fix 6 pigtails and check noses and herd the children to the car. I tug on my Fellowship Rocky Mount t-shirt and run my fingers through my hair.
May Christ be glorified and not the name of our church.