Life is funny

There are a number of people who used to be members of my current church who have attained near legendary status by the simple expedient of moving away. In their cases, absence has indeed made hearts grow fonder. If any of these legends return, they will be swarmed with people practically falling over themselves to talk to them.

In a related subject, lots of people at my church have been there for their formative years. They grow up in the church. They marry in the church (or marry new blood into the church), and they stay in the church. This means that they have ages of in-jokes and "do you remember the time when" stories that I do not understand.

As you can tell, I have never at all felt any unreasonable sensations of being marginalized and second-rate because of any of this. Seriously, though...other than family members, I don't have any friends anywhere that I've known since I was a little kid. But this year, I realized something. I have known other people since they were kids. They are the kids of my parents' church, the church where I grew up. Kids I babysat for, kids I taught in VBS, kids who were just part of the church life. And I realized one Sunday at my parents' church, as I was hanging out in a circle talking to these kids, that this is how the "legends" of my current church must feel: not like legends, just like normal people who are happy to see others with whom they shared so much history.

This Saturday, I am hosting a sleepover for 5 to 7 teenage girls from my old church. Some of them I have known for ages, some I have known of for ages, and some I have known for a fairly short time. But when I suggested a few weeks ago that it might be fun if they came to visit me, they agreed. With enthusiasm. And I am hosting with similar enthusiasm.

It's an encouraging, endearing, and laughably enjoyable thing to be the destination of a road trip. I'm excited.

Also, getting 8 women ready for church in the morning in a one bathroom apartment should be interesting.