Home

It came quite suddenly to the both of us almost two weeks ago. It was that "we would know that we know that we know" moment someone had prayed over us in Kinship, almost two months ago. One day last week Angel & I just looked at each other and said, "We need to go home - to Calvary."

And that's what we did.

I think that it was building in us for a while before a few things happened. I had met with Greg recently, and it was so good to catch up with him. I missed our get-togethers where we would talk, share, pray and bounce our wacky sense of humor off each other. There was also the phone call from a man in our church who wanted to take me out for coffee, as he hadn't seen us around for a while. And then there was the e-mail invite to a wedding shower for Calvary's new youth pastor and his fiancée. It was a few days before the shower that we had our epiphany, so we decided to go there and break the news. What better way to reintegrate than at a party? When we arrived we felt a bit of apprehension (after all these were people we hadn't seen in two months) but also a sense of anticipation. Most of the people there regarded our presence with an "Oh, we haven't seen you in a while, catch you later" kind of welcome, which is ok. But with those we're better acquainted with, it was like a homecoming. And the news of our permanent return made them all the happier, which was a real blessing to us.

Yet we had one more Sunday at Harvest to attend, as we wanted to say goodbye to those we had started to build relationships with. It was funny how I felt a little sad about leaving; after all we were only there for eight weeks. And yet as Harry, our Kinship leader, said, "We're all one body in Christ." Wherever God's people come together, His love and power is present through each one. Looking back at our time at Harvest Vineyard I can say for myself that there was a healing that took place, but it happened more by osmosis rather than direct ministry by others. Come to think of it, there was direct ministry - but it was more by relationships than by asking for prayer or getting counsel from others. The way we were welcomed and loved by those we connected with made us feel valued, and that maybe we do have a place in God's kingdom. Just being there all those Sundays charged my spiritual batteries, and in every service I felt this one thing come to me: you are a shepherd; feed my sheep.

Now that's a bit of a paraphrase, as I'm reluctant to insert the "P" word in there. A boldness had been building during those weeks, that maybe my path isn't as cloudy as I think it is. Maybe it's time to get back on the horse. And yet falling off the horse hurts, and I don't want to get hurt - again. I'm afraid that if I do follow my heart I'll find disappointment again. I feel vulnerable, and I don't want to be vulnerable. I want to live a normal life! But I know that if I bury this sense of calling I become lost, and feel like I'm short-changing myself. I feel like God is pursuing me so that I pursue Him and His purpose for me. This pursuit was even more evident this morning, our first Sunday back at Calvary. The sermon was on spiritual parenting, and how we shouldn't neglect the gifts we have been given so that we can disciple others. And as I stood with the rest of the church, singing worship songs to God and each other, I looked around at all the familiar (and unfamiliar) faces who need shepherding. Maybe we are back so that I can get back on that horse again.

Maybe. But for now we're simply settling back into our church home. As surreal and uncertain it was for me this morning, it's good to be home.