The Question

I suppose it was inevitable. I've been expecting it for at least a few months now - ever since I made the decision to take the summer off church, and made it clear that I would likely not be returning to the church I grew up in. THE QUESTION. It came somewhat unexpectedly from my mom as we were chatting on the phone this afternoon. She wanted to know what I'd done with my day, and I'd filled her in. Then, she asked "So, are you attending church somewhere?"

Not yet. I'll start looking soon, in fact I visited one option a few weeks back. But I haven't chosen a church community to "call home" yet.

And yet, that question had the power to make me feel quite guilty. That "I don't quite measure up to my parent's expectations" sinking feeling.

And then I remembered the slow lazy start to the morning... laying in bed and talking with Jesus about life, and about friends near and far.

I remembered driving to the farmer's market, buying one item, and beginning to get that inner "prompting" feeling that I'm slowly becoming familiar with to go to the zoo.

I remembered driving home to stow my farmer's market purchase in the refrigerator, and grab my camera, and then climbing back into George and heading for the zoo.

I remembered being so thankful for God's provision of a car as I drove to the zoo, and telling him so.

I remembered the sun on my face as I walked into the grounds of the zoo.

I remembered watching the inquisitive children, and then parents who didn't want to take the time for their children to interact with the things they'd spotted, and realizing that God has been so patient with my many questions and ranting these past weeks.

I remembered the delight of watching a tiny baby gorilla play in it's enclosure, and then, when it had wandered just a bit too far, be scooped up by it's mother and cuddled to itself. The deep joy that came as I sat surrounded by families and small children, and watched this adorable little animal, the size of an eight or nine month old human child wander in the enclosure.

I remembered that I am again beginning to feel delight in creation.

I remembered watching the sparrows play in the trees, and humming "his eye is on the sparrow, and I know he watches me..." as I walked back to my car.

I remembered the challenge of another set of song lyrics as I drove home.

And I realized that I met with Jesus in a myriad of life-giving ways, simply by going to the zoo for an hour this morning.

I choose life.

This is a day to remember in the future, on the low days.

There were many gifts of life within it.