Don’t be weird

Pastor asked this morning how many of us over 50 expected to live to see 2012. Uh.. me. Or at least I certainly hoped I would and am thankful I did. Afterwards, I told Tim that sometimes church reminds me of an AA meeting. Not that I’ve ever been to an AA meeting, but I did read The Liar’s Club and Lit by Mary Karr, so I feel like I know exactly what an AA meeting is like.

We do this thing in church where pastor allows for testimony from the floor. He asks us to tell about the impacts we’ve had on others. It’s an odd tradition really. I mean, we rarely know when we’ve had impacts on others, right? Unless, it’s negative and then everybody in a small town already knows all about that.  I always get this tense feeling my stomach in those seconds as we wait for somebody to stand or raise their hand. I think it’s the English in me. I’m always a bit fearful that we are going to end up looking a bit like British Parliament.

There’s really no reason to fear it. Usually, we end up with the same three or four people giving a good word. On occasion, however, we do get a wild hair. That happened two weeks ago and pastor cut the fellow off by saying, “Let’s not tell that story, okay.”

I have no idea what the story was, but I was raised under that old adage, “If you don’t want to know what I think, don’t ask me.”

Of course, you all can attest to the fact that most of the time I tell you far more than you ever wanted to know (which come to think of it is a bit like an AA meeting). I’d apologize but I think you all just keep coming back to see what train wreck I’ll be in next.

I do think handing the mic off to someone is risky business. It certainly takes a bit of faith to hand the mic over to complete strangers or the strangely familiar, don’t you think?

Pastor told us today that while we ought to be radicals for Jesus, we didn’t need to be weird about it. He said there are enough weird people in the world. Can I get an Amen for that?

But truth be known, I’m not much of a radical, and I’m a pretty lousy activist. Mobilizing the masses sounds like entirely too much work.

Just thinking about it exhausts me.

I much prefer Andrew’s example.

Andrew ran to his brother Peter and said, “Hey, Bro, I met the coolest dude today. He’s as funny as Robert Downey Jr. and he looks like Gerard Butler with a full-on beard. Really. You’re going to love him. And did I mention he can walk on water? C’mon, with me. You’ve just got to meet him.”

I can so totally relate to Andrew’s enthusiasm.

I love it when my friends introduce me to their other friends.  Or when readers tell their friends that they have to read something I’ve written. It makes me feel like people are proud to know me. Like I’m doing something I was created to do.

I love that feeling so much I’ve decided that I need to do that more often myself. I want to take the opportunity to introduce more of my friends to you all. So I’m going to mix things up here at the blog this year. I’ve asked my daughter Shelby Dee to share her thoughts with us each Monday. And every Friday I’m going to have a guest blogger. (Feel free to pipe up if you’d like to be one of the folks featured.) On Saturdays, I want us to join together in a more intimate way. I’m throwing open the blog for everyone to gather together for prayer. It’ll be a place where you can come and ask for specific prayers and/or pray for others. Or just to share your thoughts and wranglings with prayer.

Oh, there will be the usual standard fare of news and opinion and storytelling and book reviews in the mix. But this year, I just want to be more intentional about what we are doing here.

Radicals, weirdoes, activists and advocates are always welcome here. And you have my word, I promise never to ask you to recite anything in unison.