Introduction to the Family

Dearest Rachel –

I will give Grace credit; while I would no more be willing to leave my church family than my actual family (in fairness, the former includes most of my actual family, particularly the immediate part of it) for the sake of a woman, she was willing to visit mine to see what it was that held me there to such an extent. Then again, as she’s relatively new to the area, she hasn’t had the opportunity to find a church family yet; mine would be as good as anywhere to start, particularly if things were to develop between the two of us.

So last night, I met her at our Saturday service to do just that; she still intended to go with her own parents to their church on Sunday (family obligations and all that – so we’re not so different, after all), so this evening would have to do.

Oh, and just to illustrate my own reluctance to surrender my home church, the reason I was available to join her last night was because I had already passed on the opportunity to join the singles group from Willow at a concert being held at a nearby park district. For all that they might serve as a gold mine of potential godly matches, their point isn’t geared toward doing so (which is understandable; it’s rather a carnal motive for a spiritual pursuit, I will agree), but rather to find acceptance in one’s lot as a single person, as well as a place within a church body. Since I would rather not roll over and surrender to perpetual singledom just yet, and I already have a substantial ‘place’ where I am, I find myself less and less drawn to their offerings as a result.

All of this brings me to last night, sitting at a table in the lobby, watching the entrance so that I can greet her and escort her into the auditorium. The video that we in the booth refer to as the ‘pre-roll’ (which might be likened to the opening credits, if this were a television series) was running, and she hadn’t yet shown up, but I tried to set that aside for the moment. After all, the congregation has a tendency to show up in force during the first song or two, so we won’t be alone in walking in late – it just felt strange to me, that was all. Besides, she’d just texted me a few minutes before, asking about with campus to go to, so I know she’s on the way. She just had to ascertain which way that is.

It so happened that I saw her walk in before they were even a verse into the first song, so it wasn’t as if she had been all that late; combine that with her confusion regarding campus, and any tardiness is perfectly excusable (especially compared against other, more regular attendees coming in that much later – I realize I’m biased, due to my dad’s indoctrination that ‘if you’re not fifteen minutes early, you’re late,’ but still, if you know the routine, both in terms of time and location, why on earth would you be showing up after things have already gotten started?). We walked in, and I let her pick which row of chairs we would sit in; either the front row that we usually sat in back in the day or the row against the back wall that we now occupy would be… unusual… for the average churchgoer. And sure enough, she picks a seat at about middle distance.

I try not to glance over to see whether she’s participating. For one, there’s no point in making her that much more self-conscious in an unfamiliar setting like this. For another thing, since most of the music has been composed by our own worship team, she’s guaranteed to not have heard it before – she can’t be expected to join in, when she’s never heard the music nor seen the words before (although the latter are projected on the screen for that very purpose). And finally, I need to be focused on participating in worship myself, and not distracting myself with studying her reaction.

Similarly, I’m aware that she’s not taking notes like I am, but then, it isn’t as if I used to do that when you were around. It was only after you departed, and Jan and I discovered your cache of some fifteen years’ worth of sermon notes, that I realized how important it was that you had those to leave behind. It’s the closest thing to letters from the past that I have; and I still go through them every Sunday, as you may have seen if you ever go through this site. So I make a point of taking copious notes of my own now, in your stead, but I can’t expect that to be common behavior for anyone else, particularly when it never used to be a thing for me not too long ago.

For the most part, then, things go smoothly, almost routinely, apart from the ever-present realization that there is someone next to me, but it’s not you, and I can’t treat her as if she were. What’s odd is that, as the service ends and everyone files out, she realizes we’ve been sitting in front of a couple she knows from her old church in Champaign, as well as a pastor from that same church. Neither of us is sure what brings them here (the pastor has attended our church for several weeks now, and I forget about how long the couple has been coming), but I hesitate to call it coincidence. God might just be winking at her, as she engages in conversation with them to a similar extent that you would after a church service.

But as far as the comparisons to you go, that’s about the extent of it. We dither momentarily about whether and where to go afterwards to eat and talk; I suggest McAlister’s, and while she appears to be agreeable (and even suggests walking there before I point out that it’s effectively a couple blocks east of where we are – a good thing, too, as it begins raining before she eventually drives over to the place), she calls me a good ten minutes later, trying to ascertain where the McDonald’s I was referring it to was. She acknowledges that she’s not particularly good with directions, which I’m fine with; she does make it to the place, after all.

The next couple of hours are spent mostly with her asking questions about the church; what exactly its beliefs are, where I see myself as a part of it going forward, and its plans for attracting future interest. My work gives me a unique insight, after all, and I try to answer her questions as best I can. The good news is that she seems to be interested in joining the church family, from what I can tell. The bad news is… I don’t know if she feels that much for me in comparison.

Strangely enough, I don’t know if that bothers me. I feel comfortable talking with her, but there’s a decided ‘don’t touch’ vibe she gives off. I’d like to think we can be friends – and we’ll certainly have something in common if she were to begin making a regular habit of coming to our church – but beyond that, well, I don’t know. I could make the same argument about you and I back in the day, but this feels… different. Less, somehow. Still, it’s early on; I don’t want to write this off just yet, especially since she’s had her introduction to the family, and has found people she has a connection with. But even while talking with them, they asked her about me, and she clearly didn’t feel comfortable trying to explain what connection I had to her. I think she’s more ready for a church home than any possibility of an actual household with a life partner.

So with that being said, honey, keep an eye on us, individually and corporately, and wish us luck. We’re going to need it.