small things

 The town is small, tucked away up a river valley.  There used to be a store there, but it's closed.  There is a larger town 15 miles away, with shopping and gas stations and the like.  At the top of a hill in this town, sits a church.  It used to be a schoolhouse but a half-century ago the school was deeded to a group of townspeople that decided to start a church for their little community.

The music is from the hymnal.  There are no drums, no electric guitars, spotlights, or smoke machines.  There is a pianist and an organist, and they play the hymns together.  There is no choir.  There are two ladies who lead the singing.  The only evidence of modern technology are the two screens in the sanctuary and the computer they are connected to so powerpoint slides can be used during the service.  Other than that, it's very much like taking a step back in time to a day when Sunday services were more simple.

I've been blessed to see a couple of churches like this in the last few months.  At one, the pastor is there as a missionary.  He's sent and supported by a missionary group that provides pastors to rural churches.  I love that this is a thing.  At the church on the hill, though, they're without a pastor these days.  Because of that, I was asked to be a guest speaker last Sunday.  

The service started with a man opening in prayer.  The two ladies I mentioned led the singing.  Another man led us in prayer.  Two others assisted in collecting the offering.  I was introduced and brought a message given by the Holy Spirit that I'm convinced was a word in season for them.

Church happened.  Just as it happens in small churches around the world.  It seems kind of foreign to me because I'm a city kid that has been transplanted to a small place that doesn't have every convenience I was used to.  There is no 24 hour Mexican food.  There is no big box home improvement store.  There is a locally owned hardware store that serves that purpose, complete with corny commercials, which I love.  And even though Coos Bay/North Bend is only about 30,000 people, it seems smaller than it probably is.  Life is slower here.  That's not a bad thing.

And yet, there are a lot of believers here.  My own church on any given Sunday averages 10 times the crowd I spoke to on Sunday and the Holy Spirit moves there like nothing I've ever seen anyplace else.  At the same time, though I saw Him moving among the small worship service at the church on the hill, 15 miles up the river valley.  The music, the prayers, the message all combined into something special; something the church body there needed to hear.  

No pastor.  No professional musicians.  No fancy theatrics, no spotlight, no video cameras.  Just a collection of everyday people, using what God gave them, taking time to make time for worshipping their God.  The lunch afterward was wonderful and the people invited me back sometime.  I hope to take them up on the offer.  

In this world, this mess, where things just seem to be spiraling out of control, it was just nice to be reminded that when you get away from all the noise, all the bustle, all the things that seem to be contributing to the downfall of our way of life these days, that there are still places in the world where the cows roam, where community meetings happen (they have one scheduled for Saturday to learn about wildfire prep), where life is just simpler, and everyone just does their best.  Church happened there on the hill last Sunday because 50 years ago or so, some people thought their little corner of the world needed a building to worship in.

I have a sign on my wall that says PRAY BIG.  And I do.  I pray big prayers even about small things because the faith behind them knows the God I pray to is able.  He's even able to take all the things I spoke of to help His people navigate life.  It's amazing to see how God moves, even in the small things.