"Fellowship......"

The sky was no more than a thin grey blanket overhead, a reflection of the fog covering my brain as I began my three-mile exercise orbit of the soccer field this morning. Aspirin had thus far failed to completely eliminate the sinus headache that aroused me from slumber earlier, but my thoughts nonetheless contemplated the church service last night, trusting “auto-pilot” in so far as navigating the laps. Beth had accompanied me on that occasion and my usual perch in the balcony, therefore, was abandoned for seats about four rows back from the altar. The worship music was a tidal wave at that location, the volume enough to swallow you in its substance, no doubt merely an old man’s opinion. We had chosen to endure the location, though, sacrificing our ears for a better view of the granddaughter who would be participating in a drama interpretation scheduled later, one in which Barabbas was portrayed as the embodiment of all men, God, not Pilate, being the authority for his release, and Christ expressing through such grace His love for all. While that message was nothing new to me, somehow, through an anointing that was on the kids, and to me if nobody else, there was this moment within it when, in spite of all my disagreement with much of what this bunch of Pentecostals believe nowadays, I was nonetheless “one” with them, connected in the very depths of who we are in Him. Theology mattered not. Format was dismissed. These were “my people”. It lasted but a few minutes, the knowledge of His presence in our midst slowly receding, but without leaving altogether. The women’s Gatlinburg retreat group would next share and, in their witness, we would once again find ourselves swimming in such waters, testimony after testimony drawing us into a communion that needed neither cup nor crumb to signify its sanctity. Now, with a vision of such experience yet fresh on my mind, I circled the track considering how, in truth, we all are “walking our own course”, each of us with our individual story to tell, our particular view of the journey as it has come to us, the details formed in accordance with our history, our environment, and our own identity. What we get is an “anchor-line”; and one day we will all give an account for how well we maintained a relationship with it. In the meantime, what’s important is not that we see all things alike, but that we find Him in all things……