Proper worship planning takes quite a bit of work.
The goal, for me, is to try to create a safe space for congregants to worship, and I believe that safety comes in comfortable flow, coherent theme, and opportunity to sing, pray, reflect, and respond to God both corporately and independently.
Worship planning takes time and discernment and happens most effectively when planned with a team, so when you physically can’t plan with a team because scheduling doesn’t line up, it’s extremely helpful to have a pastor who plans his sermons in advance.
Before I even started serving as the interim music minister at my church, I have known what Patrick was going to preach in advance. While he doesn’t have his sermons written in detail, he has an idea of his sermon topics and scripture references weeks in advance…because he preaches sermon series.
[Which, for the record, they are amazing.]
And so…tonight, dear friends, I am beginning my own series. Not a sermon series. But a note series.
I’m not as experienced as Patrick with series planning, so I don’t have an outline written for the next couple of months of notes, but I do know my series title: Defining Moments.
I’m going to begin writing about those moments in my life when something clicked into place—when a piece of my life’s puzzle found where it belonged and thus changed the landscape of my existence.
I don’t know how many moments I will share. I haven’t even identified what my defining moments are. I don’t know if I’ll jump around or if I’ll write chronologically. I don’t know if I’ll arrive at inspirational points or I’ll just be telling parts of my story.
All I know is this: I’m starting a note series entitled Defining Moments, and tonight’s defining moment is simple:
My mom is a quiet woman. She holds her emotions close to her heart and seldom allows others to see the depth of all that she is feeling. My dad, on the other hand, is an outgoing man. He, like me, wears his heart on his sleeve and everything he owns and freely offers his feelings to those who will listen.
As my dad prepared to go to Armenia, he outwardly expressed his hopes and fears and allowed tears to flow openly down his face. He made it clear that he was both excited and terrified to be returning to Armenia and that he was going to miss my mom, Bullet, and the rest of the family terribly. Through it all, my mom remained steadily quiet.
On the Monday my dad left, my mom had tears in her eyes. Her tears quickly dried, though, and we made our way to Florida where she kept her phone close. Every day, she silently waited for my dad to call and tried not worry when he didn’t. And when we got home, and a friend called to see how things were going, she said, “He’s been able to call almost every day, so that’s made things a lot easier.”
In that moment, as my mom stood at the end of the kitchen bar and I passed through downstairs, I realized just how much she loves my dad and that she feels as much of a hole in her heart as him when they are apart.
I guess that being married to your opposite for fifty years creates a companionship and partnership not easily separated.
As we made our way to the airport today to pick up my dad, my mom remained her quiet self. But man was she excited! And he was, too. And now he’s sleeping soundly on the couch with Bullet and she’s happily preparing his place in bed. And all is well in this house that love has built.
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