Author: jessicaivaska

WHEN YOUR CHURCH IS SCATTERED

/ jessicaivaska / 2 Comments

Scattered dandelion

My husband and I recently left the church where he has been a pastor for the last three and a half years.

It’s been hard. Heartbreaking and gut-wrenching. This church, these people are our community. They are the people we have worshiped with, laughed with, cried with, prayed with and counseled. We have eaten with them, sipped coffee with them, gone on hikes with them and loved them.

Leaving the church has felt like our community has been ripped away. It has left me reeling. It’s not that I don’t think our friends still love us and want to be a part of our life, but it will be different. It is different.

On Sunday we’ll be surrounded by the faces of strangers. We no longer have a church. My husband is a churchless pastor.

As I have been grieving this loss and wondering what God is up to, it hit me how wrong I am. We do have a church. Our church is just scattered.

Our church is in Seattle, Vashon, Kirkland, Gig Harbor, Hawaii and California. It’s in a small town in England and the frozen tundra of Canada — and everywhere in between.

The phone calls, FaceTime sessions, Skype calls and emails remind me that we are not alone in this. We cannot all meet together on Sunday morning, but we are still united.

We are united by the blood of Christ and our love for one another. And we are in good company. The early church was scattered too. The New Testament epistles remind us of this. They are letters, not scripts. They were written encouragements, not whispered in the quiet of a shared song or a long talk over lattes. Paul was far away from people he was ministering to. That’s why he wrote letters. And thank God he did, because now we have them.

I am not saying that there is no purpose or beauty in the local church. Far from it. The book of Acts shows us how important it is to gather together in person. To share prayers and meals. To live life together. I long for the day when we have a local church again. One where we feel like God has called us. One where we belong. But until that day, God is teaching me that church won’t always look like the “church” we are used to.

I have a church and I am so grateful for my church, scattered though it may be, one day we will all be together for all eternity. And until that day, there are text messages, emails, Skype calls, FaceTime sessions and letters. Those things have a beauty all their own. Today I am choosing to be grateful.

NEVER THERE

/ jessicaivaska / Leave a comment

never there 600

While I was on a run this morning, an older man walking his shaggy, gray-haired dog looked at me, smiled and said, “You’re never there.”

I smiled back and tossed out a “hello,” as I kept trudging onward. I was almost “there.” My house was just around the corner. My run almost over for the day.
As my feet carried me a few more steps the realization of what he said hit me. I hadn’t understood him at first, but as his words sank in, I got mad.

“Who does this guy think he is? He doesn’t know why I’m running. He makes it sound like I’m running to something–-or from something. He doesn’t know me. Grrrrr.”

But then after few steps more and a gentle nudge in my spirit, I realized maybe he was on to something.

Maybe this guy has lived enough life to know that no matter where you’re going, once you’re “there,” there’s always somewhere else to go. The “to-do” list never ends. You never actually “arrive.”

Maybe in this moment God was speaking to me. Was this the quiet whisper of His voice, telling me that it’s ok to slow down? Reminding me of the lesson He’s been trying to teach me for decades?

It’s ok to enjoy the ride. Not only is it ok, but I SHOULD.

If i’m never gonna get “there” in this life, then there’s no rush, right?

What would it be like to be in the moment? To breathe deep because I want to, not because I’m out of breath from rushing from one thing to the next.
What if living itself is all the “there” we get this side of eternity? Surely it’s enough. I just don’t let it be.

I’m going to keep running, but hopefully I will do it because I want to, not because I’m rushing. I want to look around more. Walk some. Take in my surroundings and know that wherever I am, I’m already there. And so are you.

Thanks old guy, for the reminder. Maybe you were right after all.

SWEATER WEATHER

/ jessicaivaska / Leave a comment

Penguins

The sun is shining brightly. Greens pop and blues run deep. It’s beautiful. The epitome of Hawaii in all her glory. It’s going to be 80. The perfect temperature for hitting the beach, sipping iced lattes and living in slippas.

Looking out my bay window at an endless ocean, you’d have no idea that the seasons change.

To mainlanders, Hawaii has no seasons. It’s endless summer. Once you’ve lived here a few years you pick up on subtle seasonal changes. The plumerias drop their leaves in the winter. The trades die off in the fall. Rain falls a little heavier into the “cooler” months. The night temps dip into the 60s in early spring. The changes are subtle. Imperceptible, if you don’t know Hawaii.

But today, a season changed. It wasn’t gradual. It was sudden. Abrupt. The season of why we came to Hawaii is over.

Today is Erik’s last day at the job he’s had for the past 3.5 years. The job that led us to pack up our home in Seattle, put our cars on a boat and have our dog go through a 4-month rabies vaccination quarantine. Today, that job is over. He will come home, his car full of reminders of an office with loud air conditioning and too many roaches.

Jobs end for people every day. We aren’t unique in that. But what is unique is for us, this wasn’t just a job. It was our life.

Erik is a pastor, and when you’re in ministry, work and life become blurry. Church attendees become friends and friends become family. Coffee dates go deep and tears are sacred. A late night phone call can be a friend checking in or someone desperate for prayer and rescue.

Work/life balance gets fuzzy in the best way possible.

But that also means that on days like this, you wish there was more black and white in the world than grey. You wish that a job was just a job and that walking away from it didn’t also mean walking away from your community.

I know that we are still friends with the people who attend the church. I pray that they will be long-lasting friendships on this earth and long into eternity. Yet I know they will be different. They’ll have to be. We won’t see people at church on the weekends. We won’t be in their Bible studies. We won’t worship with them regularly or run into them at church events. It wouldn’t hurt if we didn’t love them so much. I guess it’s a good problem to have. But I have never welcomed winter. I am a summer girl. I love the warming glow of the sun on my bare shoulders. I love loose sundresses and jumping in the ocean. Winter is cold and wet and grey. I fear that that is the season we are heading into.

I do know that God is good. I do know that He has a plan. I do know that He loves us and wants what it best for us.

I don’t know what that will look like. I don’t know how long it will take for us to catch a glimpse of our next step, of the next season. I don’t know how long the hurt will last. But I do know that the season has changed and now I need a sweater.