Pastor Bob's Blog

Pastor Bob has been blogging alot lately and he asked me to post them here for everyone to see. Feel free to comment...enjoy!

Here is the link to his blog: http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.ListAll&friendID=45665414

INTIMACY is a difficult process for all of us. It is much easier to keep things inside. We are afraid if people were to really get to know us, they might not like what they see. We are a society of people "acting" out many of our relationships. And we do the same thing with ourselves – and God!

It is much easier to base your faith on a system of Bible doctrine and discipline. But, what God really had in mind is our INTIMACY with Him. The Bible only points the way to that end.

I have known many "defenders of the faith" in my time. They can argue Scripture with the best of them. They know where they stand, and they know what they believe. But when it comes to real intimate matters of the heart, they avoid them.

I spent a lot of years avoiding real INTIMACY. With my friends. With myself. With God. And it wasn’t until I began to have a deeper relationship with God, that my INTIMACY with myself and others improved. When I realized that my trust in God was solid and secure, it gave me a great foundation to conquer the thing that I feared the most … INTIMACY! I no longer felt afraid of what I would find if I dug too deep into my own heart, or became vulnerable with my friends. As long as I felt that my INTIMACY with God was secure, I could take risks.

Most of all, it gave me an opportunity for some wonderful healing. I am able to see areas of my life that need attention, and have the courage to face them. The price that Christ paid on the cross will always be much greater than any pain I might feel when I uncover those hurtful areas. He understands. He has been there!

Sitting in front of the window in my bedroom is MY pew. That's it in the picture above. It is the one I grew up on. I first became acquainted with it when I was 6 days old. That was the first Sunday I attended Church. It was a small country Church in Broadview Montana – population 150 people. Period.

There was no nursery. I just had to learn to be quiet. I remember as a very young boy eating Cheerios and singing hymns. Yes, Cheerios (breakfast cereal) was the snack-of-choice to keep me quiet and occupied. But as I grew older, I began to enjoy the songs and the message. I felt secure sitting in that pew. It was home – on Sundays. We sat in the same pew every week. It was tradition. Every family in the church had their own pew. We were safe.

It was a wonderful way to grow up. It laid the foundation for my faith. I don't really remember any messages in particular. And I don't think it was the spoken Word that really fed me. Rather, it was just sitting there. Singing. Eating my Cheerios. Feeling at home. Secure.

When I began to grow up, it became more difficult. I played the piano for Church, so I had something that occupied my time. But the Cheerios were gone, and that feeling of security turned to desires for more adventure. I moved away from home the day after my high school graduation.

Even though I had my foundation, I still didn't feel fully connected with God. I no longer felt the security of my little country Church. When I would go back to visit, many of the older people had died – and new people were sitting in our family pew. It wasn't the same.

I started Bible College. They had pews as well. I hated them. I felt confined and force-fed. I felt like a rock musician sitting in a room full of accountants.
It was during this time that the Church I was attending asked me to teach Sunday School. They had JUST the class for me! Jr. High Boys. I found out later, that they had trouble keeping a teacher in the class. It was a difficult group.

I remember walking into the class the first Sunday. It was a small narrow room, about 20 feet long and 8 feet wide. Why do I remember that? Because it was barely large enough for the two 4X8 foot folding tables that were sat up. The walls were bare. There were no windows. I instantly felt caged-in the moment I entered.

As I walked in and sat down, I realized I had a difficult group. They were not happy. They hated Church. They were bored and hostile. I needed to win them over. I looked up at them and said, "Let's go out for breakfast!" Their eyes lit up. I spent what little money I had on hot chocolate and doughnuts. We talked about life, cars, and music. It was wonderful. I felt great about my idea – until we got back to church and were confronted by some angry parents whose permission I neglected to get to take their sons away from the building.

The next Sunday, we sat in that room. It was murder. They hated it. But at least now they were talking. But we still hadn't talked about anything spiritual – and the Church was concerned that I wasn't following the Sunday School booklets that the boys were supposed to be studying from.

I made it a point to drive over to the church during the week. I wanted to scout around and find an alternative room for my class. There were no more rooms available. Then I saw it – a long rope that connected to a pull-down staircase going up to the attic. As I climbed up, I realized this was just what we needed. It was piled with junk and spider webs. It was dark and unpainted. It smelled musty and old. It was PERFECT! I called the guys and asked them to meet me at the church on Saturday. I had a project they were going to love!

They all came. I think they were more curious than anything. When I took them all up the rickety stairs and announced that this was going to be our new Sunday School room, they looked at me like I was from another planet. But then they got excited. They found the paint. They put down some old carpet. It was our "club house!" We spent some wonderful months up in that musty attic. We talked about life. We talked about cars. We talked about music. And we talked about God. We connected.

I remember those days as if they were yesterday, although it has been over 30 years ago. But I am sure many of those young guys (who probably have Jr. High boys themselves now) made their first real connection with God up in that make-shift meeting room.

When my little country church decided to buy new pews several years ago (since the old ones were decades old), I was fortunate to get our old pew. My dad cut it down to room size for me, and actually sent it here to Tennessee for me. When I look over at it, which I am doing right now, it is a wonderful reminder of how important it is to have a "safe" place to find God. It really doesn't matter where it is – a little country church or a musty old attic – or the pub down the street. We all need a group of people to connect with, and a place where we feel comfortable enough to celebrate our faith together.

This is a bit off topic, but Pastor Bob is the only man in the world I ever said "I love you" to......... Strange.