We had every intention of attending worship this morning. It's all a part of this thing we are trying, a thing we like to call 'getting unstuck from stupid.'
I had arranged earlier in the week to drive to our home church which is located about hour and a half from where we currently live. My parents and my bother (and his family) all worship there and so it is always great to be with them on a Sunday. Alas, we woke up late. For some reason my wife forgot to do something to the alarm clock and we woke 45 minutes late with not nearly enough time to get cleaned up, dressed, and in the car to make it on time to the 10:30 service. It had also snowed last night which made the roads between here and there a bit sketchy. Strike one.
Resigned to a day of slumber, I went into the bath and began to shave my head. Little did I know that Renee was downstairs on her laptop searching for a church nearby. We have been searching for a local church for over a year now, but we wanted something within our tradition and have been unable to find something that had all we were looking for–weekly communion, contemporary worship, solid, biblical preaching, and a membership more suited to our age. We're not picky. Renee found two.
She called the first church and found it was what we were looking for. It was relatively close. The problem was this: they were closed today because their preacher was sick. Strike two.
We were nearly giving up when she decided to go ahead and call the second church which was about the same distance away as the first but in the opposition direction. They had all we were looking for. They were open. And we had plenty of time to arrive for their second service.
When we arrived we were greeted by a large gathering…some folks were arriving for second service, some were leaving from first service. Turns out, their preacher was stuck out of state due to the weather so the youth minister would be preaching today. There was also a large contingent from another church worshiping with them as well: a large group of christian motorcycle enthusiasts, a couple of which had actually ridden their bikes to church.
We picked what we thought would be a 'safe' spot in which to sit–off to the left side of the auditorium, near the middle, close to the window aisle. Within minutes we were disabused of the notion we had chosen a safe spot as between 50-60 bikers, clad in leather and chaps, began taking up the chairs around us. Then, shock of all shocks, they began making small talk with us. Then, one of them touched my bald head with his hand and said that I 'fit right in' with their group. Then they invited us to their worship services.
I believe we got a hit. And that's enough.