The Blue Church

Remember wrestling those fold-out maps on a car trip? They were my ever faithful traveling companions, complete with the frustration of refolding them, until road atlases became popular. All the maps were in one bulky book. Big improvement at the sacrifice of minor details.

A few years back, on a road trip, I pulled off the Interstate and into the past.

There, at the foot of the rural exit ramp, were the remains of an old general store, complete with filling station island, car frame repair shop, and hydraulic lift.

“Bittersweet.”

That’s how a friend had recalled an experience I’d asked him about, and I immediately understood. Don’t you? Haven’t we all had bittersweet moments?

Every two years we have local elections, every four years, general elections. And just the sound of the word “election” is enough to make many people cringe.

Visits to Grandma’s house always included trips to “the store.” You didn’t have to ask which store. From the time I was aware, there was really only one in their tiny town, and it carried everything from nails to shoe polish, honey to hardware, soap to shotgun shells, candy to cowbells.

I’m not certain how and when it happened, but it’s as if I went out for popcorn, and some of my favorite words changed. In our cultural identity crisis, it’s hard to keep up with even common definitions. “Family” and “marriage” and “gender” and “tolerance” and “rights” all have shifted in meaning.

With all of the disadvantages and chaos of moving, there are some bright spots. When you move to a new place, you make new friends. You don’t have to, of course. But if you are aware of your surroundings, and are looking for opportunities to show the love of Christ, you will make connections.

“What does it take to convince us?

Seeing is believing. But is it? The Bible records many instances of people coming face to face with God’s miracle power and still turning the other way.

Many of us grew up in Sunday School, or attended Vacation Bible School, or in other ways learned lots of Bible Stories as we grew up.

Dad worked for a heavy construction company, and that meant moving after a project was completed. I really experienced only three major moves during my school years, so the process was not terribly traumatic. I know military families move much more often.