the night before the church retreat

a poem about church

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I have thought much about church lately. I think about church all the time, but right now they’re more swirly, reaching thoughts. More sit in it and chew on it thoughts. The Lord has taught me more about church in the last 3 years than in all my combined years of church attendance. In a culture (church culture even) that is quick to leave churches and quick to tell the world about it, I am learning to exercise my staying muscle. This is a complicated matter that I don’t wish to dive into.

What I do want to dive into is what came to me in a half asleep prayer the night before my church’s women’s retreat.

Church

In that misty haze suspended

between sleep and wake

just a wink of time, really

I am rooted in a green pasture somewhere

I am a shepherdess

fully dressed for the occasion

in wool, of course

and I face the wind head on

unmoved

I walk out to meet the sheep

look each one in the eye

pat their head

feel the tensile bounce of their wool

beneath my palm

call them by name

perceive how they are

because I’ve learned to perceive how they are

I step back

I am with my own shepherd now

shielded from the wind

What is this, I ask

This, he says,

This is church

Shepherdess by Lore Pemberton

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Wherever you are with church, my friend, know that Jesus will show you the way. He is still the head of his church and he will have a spotless bride. He is faithful to finish what he began in us and in his church. Don’t be afraid to lean in, especially when you want to pull away. The fruit is worth it.