My Saturday morning rituals have become one of the sweetest and most treasured parts of my week. I get up whenever, sit in bed with coffee, and stare out my window. Then, at the appropriate time, I put on spandex and go to a yoga class.
It sounds simple and overrated perhaps. But I must say, the very simplicity that would seem to you perhaps boring, is the very simplicity that I crave. Quiet, uninterrupted stillness. A peaceful day when the remaining 6 seem to be anything but.
People often ask me what I do on the weekend, specifically Saturday. “Nothing,” I say with a slight smirk. “I make no plans. .. I take the day to be by myself should nothing come up, or be readily available for any sudden bout of spoteneighty.” They’re always a little surprised too because if you really knew me, met me in the flesh, you would know that I truly love people, fellowship, community, conversation, and everything else that those entail.
But Saturdays are the days that I take to sit and listen and pray and think and not think.
Soooo… long introduction aside, as I arrived at the gym I started slowly lurking through the parking lot trying to find the closest spot possible. Ironic, isn’t it? Going to the gym for exercise but afraid to walk too far? That’s not the spiritual insight I discovered.
As I turned up an aisle of cars, I came to a quick realization that I would not be able to get up the entire row because no one parked in actual, outlined parking spaces. The snow that I had fallen the night before had hidden the necessary markers that helped to guide drivers on where to put their cars.
So without structure, with no outline to follow, people made up the most random, illogical, and limiting parking spaces that I had ever seen. No rhyme, no reason, and no opportunity to fit in or get through. It was really more dangerous than anything else, as I tried to squeeze by tale-ends that were not aligned with their front-ends.
Then it hit me– this sounds like some churches I know. This looks like some Christians I know. Before I go any further, please understand that I am not declaring this on either (a) all churches or (b) all people. Rather, what I am saying is simply this: we, Christians, are all in agreement enough to get to the same place- the church. We all agree on what we do when we get there- worship. But where lines become skewed or misconstrued is in what it looks like to accomplish this.
Do we read the King James or the NIV?
Do we sing hymns or something by Chris Tomlin?
Do we preach topically or exegetically?
Do we preach pre-trib, mid-trib, or post-trib rapture?
My question– Are you preaching the Gospel? Are you telling the truth? Are you presenting Jesus?
If so, then truth brings light to everything else.
An hour later, I walked out of yoga wondering why the men in class were better than me.
Fleeting thoughts by Meredith Dunn.