I'm seeing the church in a new light these days.
After road tripping through the north west and the California coast i realized that I'm a part of the greatest story ever told. Its almost as if every narrative story line is based of off Jesus coming and dying. Its the greatest love story told. The greatest mystery ever told. Its pretty sci-fi if you think about it too. Angels and Demons living and fighting in a different realm, invisible to human eyes.
We arrived in Seattle with no place to stay and only a few destinations in mind. We saw the original Starbucks and the place where they throw fish. We met the guy actually. He was tall, kinda gritty, and talked Texas better than we did. We ate some amazing food and drank some amazing drink. But none of it would be possible without the help of a native Seattlite named Wyatt.
Wyatt is killer. The man. The dude.
We decided the first night there that we would visit one of our favorite churches, Mars Hill. And with the important question of where we were sleeping that night on our hearts and minds we figured that if these people were as generous as we thought they'd be we just might find a floor. After a service on how the church functions and hospitality from Mark Drsicoll we met this guy Wyatt.
Long story short, Wyatt treated us to some beds as well as some sweet breakfast of eggs! Then showed us around Seattle. The Lord answered our prayers so much during this trip. We had the best tour guide that ended being a close brother in Christ! (praise him!)
But here is the thing about the Northwest, or at least the parts we experienced. It is Church! Like Church for real. Honest, gritty, and sweet. Why would someone ever let four smelly road tripping Texans sleep on there floor much less spend the whole day with them...Jesus.
And they embrace culture as if its something that gives life. Not that i don't love southern Texas hospitality but sometimes its stale and fake. And is there really culture in the red-bricked suburbs of Houston or Dallas? Maybe. Hopefully. But we got to talk to some of the most honest and messed up people in the world right now. They were leading worship and making meals. Listening to good music. Being snobs about coffee, because they long to taste the good stuff while they're alive and not Folgers. Its weird, i know. But there is more than Folgers and its not the best part of waking up and in fact it was never in our cup the whole week.
I long to see this kind of attitude in Denton. The great part is i already do. I long to see this in my own life. The embracing of the good that God has given us here on the earth. Like french pressing good coffee that was roasted yesterday and talking about how we taste hints of Lemongrass and blueberries. As we sip, we're talking about what the God of the universe is teaching us and the areas that we don't trust him.
Art. Why would God give us art? Why would he let coffee grow? Why would he allow sun rises and at the same time sunsets in other places? Maybe its because he is good. Showing us his craft in the way the landscape rolls in Utah and juts out in Colorado. And then makes us miss it while we drive through Arizona on Hwy 10.
This is all very futile and overly romantic, i know. It was just good to get away. To fall back in Love with home by going far, far away. I think that God wired us like that. Maybe, but what do i know about how God wired humans...not much. But this much i know, that He is eternally good and one of the best artist I've seen. He writes the best stories and characters that many people use to create new stories in books and films. He writes songs through birds and people. He paints things like old rocks and sunsets. He colors the rivers that run through Washington a vibrant turquoise. I didn't water could be blue for real. He litters the beaches of the pacific with the blackest sands and river stones. They're no Galveston of course but still very nice.
It is good to get away. To fall in love with new places and people in order to fall back in love with the places and people that we come from.
