It's More Than a Yard Sale

This weekend our church is hosting a yard sale.  We're in the thick of it right now—sorting, pricing, and trying on hats (just me).  Yard sales are not for the faint of heart, but it remains one of my favorite events.  The church bands together, we talk and laugh, we share the table, we get rid of stuff we don't need, we meet the community, we give to missions, etc.  I love it.

Last night I snapped this picture.

Houston and Dorothy

A picture is worth 1000 words.  Here are a few of mine:

I love the yard sale best for moments like this one.  A little one and a Baby Boomer are happily chatting, and there are at least five other children out of this frame running all over my yard—mostly rolling down the hill in a very tall box.  People in their 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s, 60s, and 70s are sorting, pricing, and organizing.  It's a big bunch of intergenerational fellowship, which makes a pastor's heart go thump, thump, thump.

More words:  Dorothy's posture toward Houston reminds me of her mother, Katherine, who even in her 90s would speak to children at eye level.  Dorothy told me she's enjoyed getting to know the children while serving in the nursery.  This moment is the result of a Baby Boomer who continues to actively serve our children.  Today Houston's mom said "Katherine is smiling at this picture."  Indeed.

I love the yard sale because it's more than a yard sale.

Imperfect Stars

While doing 100 things at once I hastily sketched stars for tomorrow’s worship.  I made 75 copies before truly noticing the stars' glaring imperfections.   

Practically perfect in every no way

Good gravy, Katie.  These are for the public.  How will the magi arrive in Bethlehem IF THESE ARE THE STARS GUIDING THEM?  

There may be a dramatic crescendo to those questions.  After all:  They're paper stars.  This is small potatoes.  But it didn't feel small.  

Showing imperfections rarely does.  

We've all got imperfections, but letting others see can be painful.  Small potatoes imperfections aren't a big deal, but perhaps they remind us of bigger imperfections--envy, pride, selfishness, greed, or refusal to forgive.  And we don't want people to see those imperfections because what will they think?

So we settle for projecting what we want people to see. 

This helps no one, and can cause us to persist in those bigger imperfections--which is ironic since vulnerability is one of the most freeing paths TO repentance!  Vulnerability is not easy, but showing and telling breaks the power of shame.  

This is good news (!), and in healthy churches vulnerability is heard by others with compassionate ears.  We then walk together through the thick of it, and point each other to God's grace.  

So...in an attempt to listen to my own sermon (I try this on occasion) I cut out the imperfect stars and stuffed them in tomorrow's worship folders.  May they remind you (and me) to be vulnerable.