Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Odd Assortments
Anna and I made one of our trips to Lubbock today to see her specialist - all good news to report.
As we passed through Springlake I noticed a building off to the side of the road. I'm sure I've seen it before, though I can't seem to remember. By its shape it is easy to tell that it was once a church. For all I know, it may still be a church . . . but I don't think so. You see, on the side of the building, in big letters, are the words "Odd Assortments."
My first inclination is that this former church is now a thrift-shop of some kind - you know, like someone's permanent garage sale. I imagine inside are out-of-date clothes, discarded nick-knacks, a few old tools, perhaps a pink flamingo lawn ornament - the sorts of things that might gather and collect dust in a rummage shop named "Odd Assortments."
But as I drive by, I also like to imagine that "Odd Assortments" is still a church - perhaps the best named church in the world. After all, isn't that what we are - an odd assortment of fallen creatures who gather now and then to seek encouragement? Aren't we nothing less than odd, dysfunctional children who bear little resemblance to one another - even less to our parent - and yet here we are, shelved together each Sunday, somehow belonging?
Milk glass belongs next to old National Geographic magazines.
The well-worn egg beater belongs next to the thin baby dress with the hand-smocked bodice.
The sturdy plow belongs next to the six pack of empty coca-cola bottles.
And you belong next to me.
That's what church is all about.
tyd
As we passed through Springlake I noticed a building off to the side of the road. I'm sure I've seen it before, though I can't seem to remember. By its shape it is easy to tell that it was once a church. For all I know, it may still be a church . . . but I don't think so. You see, on the side of the building, in big letters, are the words "Odd Assortments."
My first inclination is that this former church is now a thrift-shop of some kind - you know, like someone's permanent garage sale. I imagine inside are out-of-date clothes, discarded nick-knacks, a few old tools, perhaps a pink flamingo lawn ornament - the sorts of things that might gather and collect dust in a rummage shop named "Odd Assortments."
But as I drive by, I also like to imagine that "Odd Assortments" is still a church - perhaps the best named church in the world. After all, isn't that what we are - an odd assortment of fallen creatures who gather now and then to seek encouragement? Aren't we nothing less than odd, dysfunctional children who bear little resemblance to one another - even less to our parent - and yet here we are, shelved together each Sunday, somehow belonging?
Milk glass belongs next to old National Geographic magazines.
The well-worn egg beater belongs next to the thin baby dress with the hand-smocked bodice.
The sturdy plow belongs next to the six pack of empty coca-cola bottles.
And you belong next to me.
That's what church is all about.
tyd
# posted by thankyoudarlin @ 6:42 PM 
