What Barb Jones taught me

Between 1988-1990, my wife and I attempted to plant a church in Fort Atkinson, Wisconsin. Shortly after Christine was born, we moved there from northern Illinois, set up shop, as it were, in a small, aging mobile home and were fortunate enough to have a well-known couple who lived in “Fort” open their home to us for Bible study on Thursday nights. I was working third shift at a nursing home facility in Watertown, about twenty miles north of Fort, and so I would lead the study, enjoy coffee and dessert afterward and then drive to work. We officially began the study in the fall of 1989 and every Thursday night met in Barb and Joe Jones' home located right on Highway 12 on the south end of town. As fall turned into winter, however, the snow began to fly and as luck or fate or whatever would have it, more often than not it flew a lot on Thursday nights that winter of 1989-90. And so in the interest of people's safety I would call Barb and tell her I had decided to cancel for that night.

People who know me now probably find that difficult to believe given my penchant for not canceling for any reason be it the worst Sunday blizzard imaginable or an anticipated low turn-out day. But that's because of what Barb taught me one day after a visit with her and Joe in their home. “Personally,” she said with the tone that only a spiritual matriarch can assume, “I don't like canceling for any reason. You never know what God may want to do. We're here and if you and Linda come that makes four which is more than a quorum. And what if someone showed up thinking there would be study?” She was right, of course. Apart from a snowapocalyse, there really wasn't a good reason for canceling any of the gatherings. It was a snow day – or night, as it were – and I wanted a good reason to stay home and relax. I took Barb's lesson to heart and to the best of my knowledge, have not canceled any church activity save one in the past twenty-some years of ministry here (one year a late January blizzard forced us to postpone our annual congregational meeting for the following week; if we didn't need a quorum that was decidedly larger than four we would have met). Because, as Barb put it, you just never know.

This is tame compared to the drifts we have right now in Chetek

A usual welcome at Focus

Last night at Focus was a case in point. In honor of Leap Year, the kids had planned a scavenger hunt calling it “Leap Year Lunacy.” But Tuesday night the snow began to fall and by early Wednesday morning there was over a foot of heavy, wet snow that shut down school and pretty much everything else. The kids enjoyed a snow day while a lot of us adults spent it moving snow. By mid-afternoon, the roads were clear and the calls began to come in wondering if Focus was still on. While the kids in town could easily get to Refuge those outside of town whose roads were still being plowed out would have a time of it. By four o'clock my daughter, Emma, and I made an executive decision to postpone the scavenger hunt but carry on with “the show” in the interest of those kids who might turn up and the principle that even a handful of us showing up would not be a waste of time.

And it wasn't. Only seven were on hand (Focus usually runs between 20-25 on a Wednesday night): three of my four kids – Christine, 23, Ed, 18, and Emma, 16 – Alan, a senior from Cameron High School, two sixth graders, Rachel and her friend, Alyssa, and myself. Rachel, who is homeschooled, was quite proud of the fact that she had invited Alyssa to come. And for a first-timer, Alyssa was very enthusiastic about being there. I quick grabbed a few things from a closet in the basement, we circled up seven chairs in the sanctuary,  made sure that Alyssa knew everyone's name and then we began an evening that I was definitely making up on the fly. We played standard youth group games like “This is a ball,” “I have never...”, and the Noodle Game (maybe the best teen game ever invented). We laughed and giggled. We whacked each other with a foam noodle. And Alan did an unintentional back flip off one of the chairs that was perhaps the funniest thing that happened all night. When we had run those games to ground, I asked kids to share a favorite Bible character and like they had buzzers right under them, both Rachel and Alyssa were quick to volunteer. I then asked each kid to share a prayer request and then we went around the circle praying for the person to our immediate left in brief, sentence prayers. Remembering we had ice cream in the freezer and chocolate sauce in the fridge after we were done praying we went downstairs for ice cream sundaes.

That was it. That was our gathering for Leap Year – some silly games, a little prayer and ice cream. Not what you call a spiritually high-octane event. But Alan, who is bipolar and rarely makes it until 9 p.m., stayed the whole night reveling in being the center of attention. Rachel was stoked that her friend came and I heard her excitedly tell her mom as they headed out the door how much Alyssa had enjoyed herself and was hoping to get her parents to allow her to come every Wednesday night. And everyone enjoyed a good laugh. I'd say that was a pretty successful gathering. Just think what wouldn't have happened had we canceled because only a handful were going to be present. Thanks, Barb. Thanks for teaching me a valuable lesson that I took to heart and have practiced ever since. Last night a small group of kids were the beneficiary of that instruction and who knows the ripple affect that may have in their life. 

Thanks, Barb...