At the beach

Friends and relatives who have been to Disney World or the original Disneyland all tell me the same thing; the theme park was great, but their kids preferred the beach.

The park offered fun at every turn--the food, the shows, the street spectacles, the rides--all were meant for enjoyment and entertainment.

A time for solitude and reflection at the beach

But the next day, when everyone was tired, they all opted for a quiet time at the beach. The children felt the sand squish between their toes as warm foam swirled around their legs. They listened to the beckoning sounds of the pounding surf, and stared into the clear tidal pools filled with creatures. They made elaborate sand castles and warmed their backs in the sun.

Somehow, a man dressed in a static Mickey Mouse head just didn't compete.

And this is what the American church experience has been for me for several years now.

I've been to a lot of churches--In fact, I was saved in Sunday School. I have attended churches that felt like the Matterhorn bobsled ride at Disneyland--full of wait and boredom, with a promise of something exciting in the future, but without its fulfillment in the here and now. 

I've also been to "amusement park" churches (A.W. Tozer calls this "Golden calf" Christianity). Like one immense pep-rally, participants sing songs about reaching the lost in the wide, wide world, and about the nations, and about all kinds of corporate things we all should be doing. At one service they even turned off the lights and handed out glow sticks so that everyone could wave them around--it was fun, I have to admit--sort of like a rock concert without the drugs and alcohol. 

Author Sherry Hayes

But it wasn't real, anymore than the Mickey Mouse caricature who goes around shaking hands with the park visitors. I have been to so many of these and come away feeling empty--a sense that what goes on there just doesn't jive with the rich relationship I experience daily with my Lord. 

At one church service a man stood up and boldly proclaimed that the only reason any of us were alive was to proclaim the Gospel. He was only a babe in Christ, and some misguided souls quickly had him convinced that personal holiness meant to be lived and walked out in our daily life had no applicable meaning in the "real" world. Within two years he and almost all of the leadership of that church had become involved in several adulterous relationships--what weeping and sadness had been caused by the unbalanced attempt of some to fill up the chairs on Sunday.

But I don't buy it--I don't want to have an amusement-park life.

I prefer the beach.

Here at home, in my everyday life, I experience more of Jesus, and more of the power of His Holy Spirit, than at any hyped-up service I have ever attended.

Olivia and Faith alone, in their quiet discoveries

It's taken years to really understand what I have now come to know--the truly rich life is the quietly private, and set apart one. It's like staring out my back window at the clouds above the prairie or while walking in a nearby nature park and pouring my whole heart out to Him (the Lover of my soul). It is opening a hymn book and singing aloud with my children. How many times have I felt as though I had glimpsed a little corner of Heaven.

Sometimes it's when I'm cooking a pot of spaghetti, or even folding clothes in the wee hours of the morning following a bout of insomnia that He meets with me. How precious these intimate times are! Frequently it's when we are gathered as a family, praying and reading the Word together, that He speaks to me. I hear His thoughts echoed in the prayers of my sweet innocent children--that is when I know He is visiting with us.

When I am being filled with His Spirit in this way, it's not hard to share with those around me. I don't have to gather around with a group and hand out leaflets, I just stay open to His leading, and doors open up in the grocery line, or at the bank.

Fellowship happens with anyone who is willing--at any time. I have friends and relatives with whom I can share these joys, and they rejoice with me. We bolster each other up and pray for each other--this is the gathering together that truly builds and edifies.

I am so grieved by our sad state here in America. I remember hearing of contrite Chinese believers who leave the floor wet with tears of repentance when they gather together to seek God's face. I heard they are amazed at what we seem to have accomplished without the leading or power of God's Holy Spirit.

But there is a remnant--I hear it in the comments of many of you who read here--and I see it elsewhere in the uncharted regions of Christianity. God is calling His beloved ones out, those who have been treated like paupers, and even losers by the relevant and popular ministries of today because they dare to live counter-cultural lives.

I know how lonely it can seem. I know how many times we may question ourselves and field the inquiries of others who don't really understand. However compromise is not an option. And when we find that we are the loneliest, we have a special portion from Him reserved for those times when we feel forsaken--how precious!

And yet, I am not by myself--many others have walked here before me. 

Remember you are not alone--He sees you.