A Final Sunday

We sang our songs in the high school today for the last time.

Nothing too remarkable about the set list – most of it wasn’t chosen for closure. We did “Let The Praises Ring” and “Friend of God”, threw in a 33 Mile tune called “Just One of Those Days” to set up the message and then capped things off with “God of This City”, which WAS intended to give us a way to appreciate the end of our time at PHS.
It did.
I love to hear the church sing. I heard you all today, loud and clear. It gave me chills.
My heart cracked a bit as we closed the 11:00 service. I remember arriving in Powhatan, sitting in those seats and crying for weeks on end, broken. I remember sitting behind Mandy and Angie James and their introductions and subsequent love and attention to my girls.
I remember Jaime Lloyd and my first Christmas Eve service, desperately sad, missing my kids. I remember writing a song called “This Is Who I Am” and being invited to sing for the first time – and reluctantly saying, “yes”.
I remember faces that have come and gone; messages that have changed my heart. Music we have played, songs we have sung. Things we tried that worked well and others that were not so well-received.
I remember Better Days and hostile, singing Christmas trees. I remember fake weddings and “Live Like You Were Dying” and the day we took Brian shopping for cool clothes. I remember Imagine Christmas and wild percussionists. I remember Finance Man. I remember Bob Pino as Abraham, six weeks in a row. I remember the Unity Service. I remember Brian singing “I Will Worship You” and Mandy dancing. I remember Kevin singing “I Boast No More”. I remember Small Group Olympics and laughing like crazy. I remember “Losing My Way” and “Colored People”.
There is so much.
I’m trying to appreciate the process here, knowing that we walk away from one place and a certain set of experiences into a new future, brimming with hope and greater things that are yet to come. I know that there is so much still to come.
But today was hard. I am mourning the loss of something that’s intangible, a very concrete part of the way God has dealt with me in the past six years. It’s not without pain.
And never without promise.
For those of you reading who are at PCC, leave a comment; tell me what you remember. I’d love to know.
“For I know the plans I have for you”, declares the Lord… – Jeremiah 29.11