At first, when Pastor Dana started talking about how dumb sheep are and how Jesus chose a sheep to describe who we are, I was very insulted. Why would we be compared to dumb animals? We are very strong and independent people. We like to believe that we can do it all on our own. We like to think that we have everything figured out. But if we are really truthful with ourselves, we know that we do not have it all together and we can't do everything on our own. Just like the lost coin, things happen in our lives that are out of our control. And we can really connect with the personal story of the lost son because there has been a time in each of our lives that we have needed some sort of acceptance. We have needed the love of the Father to accept us just the way we are. So, even though we might not like being compared to a sheep, in the end we realize our need for rescue. And many of us have had amazing experiences of being rescued by God.
So, here we have this community of people, called the church, called Real Life Community Church. We come together each Sunday, sing a few songs, listen to a message, and then are on our way. Have we not been rescued? Do we, like Dana read in Scripture, know that we were dead in our sin and have really been rescued by God's grace and only by God's grace? If we have these experiences of being rescued by God, of death and now life, why is it that we are so apprehensive to share our story with others in our community? Why do we struggle to stand with each other through the moments of lostness and rejoice with each other when God's grace finds us? That is the kind of community Christ gave his life for. Like the story of the Bosnians, we can experience true community by sharing in our life experiences together. Are we too ashamed to admit when we are lost? Are we afraid of judgment?
Perhaps we can start now. What is your story? Are you feeling lost and need a community to help you search like the coin or to wrap their loving arms around you like the father? Have you experienced the rescuing of God? How can we as a church community rejoice with you?
Let's be a true community by sharing our stories with each other.

Well put Sherri. I am not only a sheep...I am one of the stupid ones with the bucket planted squarely on my head! Not everyday, but certainly often enough. As I listened to Dana today via the podcast, I was struck that he would actually use me as his example...how dare he air my dirty laundry! But wait, maybe it was actually his story or yours or the story of the goofy dude sitting near me. Hmmm, suddenly I felt a little better. I know we all have a story; here is a piece of mine: It was not too long ago that I joined all of you on this journey at Real Life. When I arrived I was filled with excitement and overrun with joy; God's timing had been perfect and I rejoiced in His goodness. Nothing it seemed, could have been more glorious than to continue loving kids to Jesus. With the timing of my hire, it meant that I could literally go from one assignment (interim Children's Pastor at Eagle Nazarene to Children's Pastor at Real Life) to the next. With a God this good what could possibly go wrong...right? A lot! For that is when the storm hit. As Dana mentioned, we often find ourselves in the midst of a spiritual plunge. Yep, I took the plunge alright! Not because of my new position here but because I had placed too much of my identity in who I was and had been at ENC. I found that I had become deeply rooted and there was pain associated with leaving. Pain I did not want to acknowledge, pain I choose not to face...and most importantly, pain that came from places and situations I had not even thought of, considered or anticipated. I found myself walking in a circle with a bucket on my head! Not so good...or was it? We are all sheep and at times we are all called to shepherd another. In this situation, God sent a shepherd who gave love, patience, understanding and wisdom. In doing so, the bucket came off and I began moving forward again. From this experience I gained greater insight into who I am in Christ Jesus, my eternal Father and forever shepherd. My walk has once again grown deeper and I am grateful for having had this chapter. I am now more deeply rooted in the one who calls me, guides me, cares for me, and loves me. It may have hurt a little, but to be more firmly planted in Him is worth every tear.

Growing ever deeper through my stupidity-
Debbie

Wow, Thanks for sharing a portion of your story, Debbie. Isn't it amazing how sometimes the best way God is able to get through to us is in our times of pain and despair? I think it really says something about his love and patience. He is always quietly guiding us, but sometimes it takes a bucket to get stuck on our heads for us to listen for his voice. Thanks again for your story.

Thank you all for sharing what is on your hearts and in your lives. I am presently running around with that bucket on my head as I try to deal with a situation that I have with my siblings. I keep bumping into things as well as just going in circle. I am learning more and more what is being said of the elder brother. I am there. Being exposed is difficult and I need to seek Him more for solution rather then doing it on my own. I think the timing of this book and set of sermons is perfect. Truly, I hope to come to a genuine relationship with Him rather then relying on my own means. The elder brother is myself when dealing with my siblings, but my elder brother is Jesus so I will have to sit down and have some meaningful conversation with him. Thanks all for your insight. I look forward to reading more.

How would I do community if the organized church--Real Life, 1st Methodist, Grace Lutheran, Nampa 1st, ALL those places--ceased to exist? How would I go about gathering and finding a community if I could no longer rely on others to create it for me?

I have wrestled with this question quite a bit for quite a while now and have faced it just a tad more squarely as of late.

This I know. Community starts with ME. I have to share my stories, my life, my love, my secrets, my insecurities, my passions, my frustrations, my joys before I can ever hope others will do the same. I cannot EXPECT anyone else to do so, ever, but I can hope that after I have shared long enough and often enough, my openness will be reciprocated. I cannot do community if I am not the embodiment of community first. I either create or sabotage community wherever I go.

Without relying on others to define community for us, it is only by being open--in all of our beauty and ugliness--that we can find others with history and perspective and depth and faith that can and will join together with us on our journey. And when expectation is taken out of the equation two great things happen: 1) the journey is that much sweeter because we know that no one has partnered with us out of duty or guilt or "should" and 2) we are all that much freer to focus more deeply and intently on the few rather than be stretched thin by many. Our relationships can be more connected and authentic. (By the way, I hesitate to use the word "authentic" because it gets thrown around so often and has been so overused by the church, I think, that we have lost the meaning of it; however, authentic is really the only word I know to sum up the sentiment I seek to convey.)

Community is not a place. Community is not made up of doctrinal distinctives. Community can be influenced by those things, but it is so much more. Community is a lifestyle. Am I a person of openness? Am I person of warmth? Do I share as quickly and as equally as I hope others will share with me? What is my story and how do I tell it? What message do convey to others about the things that are most important to me?

Our lives--everything we do and don't do, everything we say and don't say, every expression, every gesture, every relationship--conveys something of us to others. Do our stories invite others to join the journey? Is the manner in which we give our lives to others so inspirational that they are compelled to do the same? This is how communities are formed and transformed--by the Spirit in which we do it.