We are tipping on the edge of around 150 regular members on the books. Coming up for 3 years old since planting from the "mothership".
Kids work is central. Worship is getting more "professional", youth are arriving and we have kicked out a cool little "edgy" evening service.
And this weekend we welcomed our new pastor to take the reigns for the next "season".
If you picked up on all the above jargon well done. You passed the "been around church for a while bingo game". I need a catchier title for that.
Anywho - we are at an interesting place. And you could say all is GREAT. And it is. You could say we are doing all the right things. And we are. But unfortunately. I don' think that's going to be good enough.
A few years ago whilst travelling in the US I spent 8 hours in the back of a pickup truck eating chicken out of an old apple crate, wearing an Oklahoma U. Baseball cap and listening to some of the most amazing country gospel you have ever heard. Why all of this was happening is irrelevant, but helps paint a picture don't it?
Along the way we hit a good stretch of road on the outskirts of the Oklahoma pan handle crossing into Texas that was so deserted by man, animal, mineral and vegetable that you would swear you had just walked on the set of a Lee Child novel.
Road out front.
But either side - Nothing but land, the odd scrub of a tree, and them more land.
We were having a great time. I was travelling with 3 guys, one of which my best friend and two who I had known for a sum total of 24 hours.
We had all we needed. But with nothing out there to look to or behind at, even in that crowded loud little Ford steel death trap - you could feel pretty alone.
You see thats sometimes the problem with being on track, out there in the middle of the road. It's usually out there in the middle that we can feel the most alone.
The middle is always the hardest part of the journey.
You are at your most vulnerable and most tired. You have lost the beauty and mystery of the path leading out in front of you. But yet you don't have that motivating sight of the finish line drawing you ever forward.
The middle of the road is where dreams come to die.
As we instated our new leader this past weekend at the church, I felt a true burden for him. Something really heavy and tangible. A burden of not wanting us to get stuck where we are.
Which is odd really, because like many of our little band of "history makers" (bonus points if you get that one) - I love where we are. I love our people, our building, our music, our prayers. I love it.
And I think that was just the reason that burden is so heavy is because from the outside looking in you could think we are on track and that our pastor, he's landed in just the right place. And he has. But in the very same moment you know there is more to do.
We always have more to do.
To see the world changed.
To drive our visions to completion.
And we know we have not yet reaches ours. But how do you take people with you to that new place when everything we have HERE seems so acceptable, comfortable?
Bill Hybels, the leader of Willow Creek, speaking at last week's HTB Leadership Conference spoke to just this and I share it again with you because it struck us so as we heard it.
The goal to getting people to go with you to THERE is to explain that HERE is unacceptable.
You see just casting a vision of how great this church, company, project is going to be when we get to completion is only casting half the vision. Because we naturally as Christians and human beings, default to what we know, what is comfortable, what is HERE.
So, Hybels says (and I agree) the only way to move to THERE is to explain why we cannot, under any circumstance, come hell or high water stay HERE.
If you are stuck in the middle of journey, or about to cast a new one, and need to take, or keep carrying people with you - then grasp this little truth. It is a life-changing, company moulding, church progressing truth.
Here may be great, comfortable, wonderful and delightful, but AT THE VERY SAME TIME - it can be unacceptable.
Because we are called to do greater things than even this.
Next time you find yourself out on the road with nothing ahead or behind, look down at the dirt beneath your feet. Thank God for it and then step on out.
Because you can't stay here.