"that's just the way things are...
(...that's just the way it is now")


i would argue that you don't know the true meaning of father's day until you've heard your five year-old daughter sing a rancid song right along with you on your way to church. it really is the little things in life, isn't it? no. not usually. 'cause i would consider hannah singing a ska track by one of her daddy's favorite bands pretty damn big. this, mind you, followed hannah presenting me with my official father's day gift, a t-shirt with a big ass guitar on it. also very cool.

when i grow up, i may still become a dad whose kids get him socks and a tie on father's day. today, it's quite the pleasant feeling that hannah wouldn't even have reason to think of something so boring as these as an offering to this, the most current iteration of her "daddy".

as my own personal character arc and redemption story continues to find it's footing, this morning officially saw our church beginning a new season after her severe and umpteenth course-correction. as fun and celebratory as last week felt, vacation bible school sunday was the pilot with the big budget, if you will. this morning was episode one. producers cringe in the corner of their office biting their fingernails. what will people think when the pomp is removed? how will this circumstance, the one that will and should feel like most services, feel? like something worth getting excited about? like something worth coming back for? like something worth giving a few weeks to play out? like "well, that was ok, but we'll probably try another channel next week."? like, well, what?

week one felt stressless, for one. from the sound booth, i would make sure the four speakers could be heard (check.). i would take some mental notes for the post that was sure to follow (check.). and i would try and soak it in and feel like i was worshipping for a change (half-check.). i think one of the weird things about the position i've put myself in (completely on me. believe me.) at my church is i don't feel like i worship anymore. i enjoy singing the hymns loudly and proudly. i affirm my faith and make intentional attempts to change the inflection in my voice so as to escape falling prey to a monotonous and empty-headed routine. after that, all bets have seemed to be off. wanting nothing more to feel like everyone is on the same page and moving together to create a wonderful service, for years now, i sit and wait for the first and next mistake.

awesome. they're reading the wrong scripture.

why are we singing the wrong song?

why is he singing again?

wow. really? another verse.

that prayer request you gave me about the dead young man. where did i put that?

why is that mic not on?

why is that mic still on?

don't bring up your last mistake. don't bring up your last mistake.

cripes. that joke wasn't funny at all.

geez. they just referenced the bad joke again.

didn't i see that story in an e-mail forward?

did they just not credit snopes?

that communion server dude just sneezed into his hand...after the blessing of the sanitizer.

note to self: don't go in that dude's line.

it's simple folks. we don't move 'til after the cross leaves.

and so on.

it's been a horrible way to spend the worship hour. i know it. sarah knows it. my family that i share most sunday lunches with knows it. my friends know it. but i can't get out of the cycle. it's just been too easy to anticipate and see the same trainwreck happen week after week after week. we can't seem to get out of our way. and we can't seem to care, collectively, enough to try and fix the problems.

and so, thanks to the itinerant system we pledge to, we course-correct. start all over. hop back to the future with someone that's bound that be good-hearted and just open-minded enough to accept us, flaws included. with someone that will want what is best for our church and what is best for our "family". with someone that will have a philosophy that's different from "the last guy" but not so different that we have to go baptist or something (zing!).

if this morning's any indication, we have a product that is worth selling. a product less piano man, less serious voice and (hopefully) less D-R-A-M-A than what we're used to. which, in my opinion (which counts for jack-zero), are all good things. i pray that we move into our "first 90 days" with honest effort and expectations and go from there. no goal-setting just yet. maybe just a hope that, sometime in the future, we'll be well-oiled to the point of not having to pay attention to the trees anymore. a hope to see the forest again. man, that would be nice.

(sings hannah) "that's just the way things are...that's just the way it is now." (faded hornline)