So the other night we had our first “launch team meeting” of the new church plant. [“Launch team” is one of those jargon terms that gets bandied about in church planting circles. It refers to the people that help you start the church. They used to be referred to as a “core group” but then, apparently, people would always refer to themselves as part of the “core group” even ten years later. Now they’re called a launch team since that supposedly takes away the implied status of “I’m more important. I’m part of the core group.”]
Anyway, the man who would be head pastor posed this little exercise: describe your church experience as a date.
Some of the responses:
-it was like an arranged marriage
-it was like going out for Ruth Crists but being stuck with Happy Meals.
-it was like going out with a beautiful girl only to find out that she was a vegetarian.
Mine went something like this: My church life has eerily mirrored my dating life: a series of aborted relationships in my efforts to find a lady that I can commit to and who is willing to put up with me. My first real relationship was with this really intelligent lady. The idea of a relationship was exciting and new, and she taught me a lot. It took me a long time to realize that she was all brains but had a cold heart.
I went on a series of one night stands that didn’t really go anywhere.
My next major relationship was with a lady who had what I needed at the time. She was bright, energetic, fun. However, in looking back on why it didn’t work, I think I outgrew her.
Most recently, I started a relationship with a lady whom I seem to have trouble committing to. I think it is because I see her going places that I can’t go and I want to go places she’s not willing to try.
And I’m trying to figure out a way to break up with her.
It was either this or a rant about my impending mid-life crisis. One of the ladies at our launch team meeting referred to me on her blog as one of “the two important pastor/leader/father type of guys” in her life. Well, if that isn’t enough to take the stroke right outta my game. That settles it. Should I ever find myself single again, I’m using the pick up line “Hey baby, got some father issues you want to work out with someone?”
As I informed her, my official title is “hot, older guy.” I’m getting stationary made.
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