No church is perfect. Each has practices that I like and dislike. I especially like those who practice the open communion meaning all are welcome to participate. What I miss is the altar call. Granted, when I was a kid listening to all six verses of a hymn waiting for somebody to come forward so we could end felt like forever.
We’ve gotten contemporary music and denominations to accommodate every taste of styles people are drawn to. What’s missing is the invitation to get a relationship with the savior we worship.
When I was five, my dad asked if I wanted to go down the aisle. I didn’t know what that meant at the moment. I just remembered the theme song to “Gilligan’s Isle”. When we got to the front, the lady next to me was crying. I said, “Hey lady, why are you crying?” She said they were happy tears. I didn’t understand that either.
Later that week, the pastor came to our home and explained it to me. We prayed and I asked Jesus in my heart. I was baptized soon after.
As soon as I held services for four years at our regional men’s rescue mission, I didn’t supply an altar call because I thought that the staff may not need a woman who wasn’t a pastor performing it. I sang and shared stories. I did build relationships with the men and they told me I made a difference in their own lives.
If I ever get the chance again, I will. The great thing about music is that the message within the lyrics. It stays with people. Have you ever heard a song you couldn’t get out of your mind?
Additionally, the wonderful thing about writing is the reader determines what they will do with the words in their lifetime. I’d love to share what I wish I had said to the guys. You are here for a reason. Your options might have led you to this place but you get to decide where to go from here. Jesus willingly laid down his life for our sins, errors, whatever you want to call them. He’s waiting to walk with you. You don’t ever need to walk alone again.
Please come. People are flawed and some will disappoint you. You’re welcome in the table. Lay your burdens at his feet. I care and so does he.