Unexpected Church Story

It was an ordinary moment in the middle of a regular weekday when I heard the Spirit’s whisper. Unexpected. Out of nowhere. No context. No prior thoughts. Just this odd phrase passing through my conscience with such nonchalance I almost missed it. Until it happened again. Days later? Weeks? I don’t remember. But the second time it happened I knew I’d heard it once before. This time taking note. Taking time to wonder. What was it for?

“Church of the Open Door.”

This odd Spirit prompt was the name of a church. A church in Minnesota, and at the time we were spending a month of winter near our son’s family in California. I hadn’t been thinking about churches at all. At least not that I remember. And this phrase out of nowhere was so clear. Weird. 

The only piece of trivia I could readily relate to this Open Door was the name of its previous pastor. Dave Johnson was the brother of Steve, a former football coach at my alma mater. My good friend and neighbor had been an assistant at Bethel, so the Johnson names were familiar. But again, this was history, and I couldn’t imagine what it had to do with here and now. 

After the second prompt I mentioned it to my husband. I told him what I’d heard, and together we wondered how we ought to respond. So we asked Google. We explored their website. Kyle listened to an online sermon, and there was an awestruck buzz when he told me about it. “You’ll want to take a listen.” 

And then another connection. A while back Kyle had been invited by our son to play whiffle ball at Coach Beasley’s place, and he’d chatted with Tim’s wife, Kati. I remembered the Beasleys well. During Grant’s fours years of playing college baseball I’d watched the young coach’s wife with her spunky little daughter, busy in the Bethel stands. And now, Kyle tells me, “Kati works at Open Door. I think she hosts a podcast.” I’ve since listened to every episode. 

By the time we returned home from California our curiously was peaked and we knew we’d need to at least visit this church of the holy whisper. Church of the Open Door. We thought we’d sneak over on our first Sunday back. What a surprise when in the middle of worship a most familiar face found us. Sat down right next to us, grinning ear to ear, like a kid stumbling upon a stash of candy. Caught. He even snapped a selfie, and sent it to his wife. Turns out, our very good friend and neighbor, Jon Lokhorst (with whom we attended our church in Cambridge) just happened to be babysitting his grandkids that weekend. And they attended The Door. The cat was out of the bag, so to speak. But even this craziest encounter would turn out to be weirdly God-ordained. The Father knowing we’d need Jon and Barb to talk with and process and pray. 

The whole thing has felt a bit like an Abram journey. “Go to the land I show you.” Maybe eventually you’ll find out why. Or not. We’ll see. But what has consistently seemed certain is God’s confirmation. Each visit. Each encounter. Signposts we continue to follow. 

We follow. Sporadic visits in the spring become regular attendance in the summer, and now we’re making commitments as we move into fall. 

Torn but trusting. Torn because church is family and we’ve been four years at our “up north” church and it’s close and it’s local. But trusting the One who knows what’s next. 

I think of Paul with his missionary churches at every port, and I think surely we’re allowed to knit our hearts to a few locations. Which we certainly have. Together Kyle and I have been members of three congregations, in three distinct seasons. Newly married at Village Church in Illinois—a church of New Beginnings and the best of friends. We raised our family at Constance Free Church. Twenty-three years of family growing up (including the parents) in soil nourishing roots going deep. And then, the past four years it’s been New Hope Community—our church of Lake Life and empty nest. Each has been precious. Each move bittersweet.

There’s more to the story. More God is doing. More reasons this might one day make sense. More for a future blogpost. But for now we listen and we follow and we trust. 

I give thanks to my God for every remembrance of you, always praying with joy for all of you in my every prayer, because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now. I am sure of this, that he who started a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. Philippians 1:3-6