Pretty soon I’ll be working on peeling and boiling a bunch of potatoes we have stashed away in our cupboard so I can fix a big pot of mashed potatoes to share at a church potluck we’ll have going on early this afternoon.
Yep, I’m one of those weird Seventh-day Adventists who start their Sabbath at sundown on Fridays, goes to church (quite regularly, I will say) and worships on Saturdays, and enjoys making a seasoned, buttery batch of popcorn and plopping down in front of the TV after sundown that evening to watch whatever movie or show looks appealing.
I love it. There’s some good, quality family time in there. And my church family counts as family as well.
That’s the great thing about belonging to a truly good church family. When something really joyful happens — like my oldest son being accepted into the honors college at the University of Utah — the church family joins you in celebrating. When you’re going through times of uncertainty, fear, sadness, pain, doubt, all those bad things — if they’re REALLY good — they rally around you, give you encouragement, a pat on the back, heartfelt prayers, some level of support that’s needed.
I don’t have a good church family.
I have a GREAT church family.
A few of my family members went to a revival meeting at our church last night. If I’m going to be getting some guidance from a powerful source, I might as well look for any signs that come up, when and where they come up. The revival continues this morning and this afternoon. I’ll be watching intently.
You see, I’m determined not to take the setback that’s been dealt to me and my family lying down. I’m attacking it with all the strength, determination, self-confidence, trust, and faith that I can muster. I’m determined to be like the phoenix from mythology, rising from the ashes.
There’s one good way to do that. Have faith.