Jonathan Shradar

  As I sit in the dealership waiting room, expecting my name to be called as my oil change is done, I found myself in lament and praying with a directness I haven’t noticed in a while. “What are you doing God? What’s the end point, the purpose?” After hearing a series of stories of pandemic strain on lives I think a gear is shifting for me. Through the last twelve months I have talked about expectancy and leaning into God’s sovereignty. Of course he is at work and followers of Christ should want to come out on the other end evidencing that they have been with God. His providence carries us through. Let him have his way. This is still my message. I still believe it, and cling to it all for my own soul. But I am getting restless. When will the church thrive again? When will the collective anxiety of humanity be relieved? When will revival come? When will uncertainty shift? What are you doing? I don’t expect an answer today, though that would be nice, but I also don’t think God is dismaye

Yesterday I had lunch with a friend. In public, on a patio of course because we are experiencing a pandemic. It was good to talk of life, blood pressure, sleep patterns, relationships, past mistakes, investing, and living close enough to the church you call your own. My friend doesn’t live all that close. He commutes on Sundays (when we gather in our building). Like most others that call our congregation their own, there is a distance traversed to worship with friends becoming family. He mentioned though noticing that many of our young members have been moving. They have been moving closer to the geographic center of the church rather than further away. Should church be a place you drive great distances to or another part of your neighborhood? I used to have stronger opinions about the question than I do now, but the desire conveyed by my friend resonated with me. He wondered if we should hope to run into church folk in the grocery store or on walks in the neighborhood. Shouldn’t we be