The In Between Place - by Monte Edwards

I am slightly anxious. A small swirl of adrenalin spins in my stomach. It is 3pm and no one has shown up.

A couple of months earlier I was standing in front of 75 people in my Sunday school class, trying to encourage them to action. I have always felt like the local church should look like the community it lives in – it should be a melting pot of cultures and languages. The town I live in is predominantly Caucasian and Hispanic, with a few Ukrainians. People like to congregate within their own community – it’s just the way of thing. It takes a special effort to bring folks together.

I’ve heard it said the United States is never more segregated then on Sunday morning – that doesn’t seem right to me. For several years I have been trying to bring that vision to life – helping out at English as a second language (ESL) classes on Tuesday evening; attending a local Hispanic church once a month or so; and trying to learn the language.

Now the vision was a little bigger. A Cinco de Mayo celebration at a local apartment complex will take 20 or so people to pull off – some from my church, and some form our Hispanic church partners. It’s taken me quite a while to set this thing up. There’s food, fixtures, permission, and logistics that must be arranged. My friends at La Vida Nueva Church said folks from the apartment complex would probably come – some times the do, sometimes they don’t.

Our simple goal is to bring the communities together – to encourage fellowship that brake down the walls that separate us.  

A car-load of Hispanic guys drive by our tables – they crane their necks to see what’s going on as they speed buy. The stakes are high – I can see my church folks looking at me wondering if they had committed their Saturday afternoon for nothing. A failure would damage my credibility, and surely inhibit my ability to address the church in the same way, in the future.

And so… I find myself in familiar territory once again – the “In between place.” My gift of administration has brought all the pieces together, arranged everything that I could – now it was time to pass the ball and wait on the Lord – my final hope for success lies squarely in His hands. I have no choice. I have to live by faith.

I like this “In between place” – I am drawn to it. It’s like traversing an icy ridge on the way to the summit – it scares and excites me both. In the sheltered windless coves, where the coast line is steady, and always in sight, it’s hard for me to see the Lord.  He hides himself in the shadows of routine and ritual. But in the “In between place” I can feel the breeze as he passes by me. His gentle touch is revealed in the evidence of circumstances and outcomes… but still I am nervous.

Before long, the first family shows up – a young couple with two kids. Then a few more, and by 4 o’clock the place is rocking. I see my friend Jorge who comes to my ESL class. He speaks English like I speak Spanish… Más o menos. Our playful bantering communicates more than language. Friendships are built in this way. The easy roar of warm fellowship swirls from table to table as a gentle, easy breeze sweeps through the park.

I feel easy and happy.

And so the gamble pays off this time – it doesn’t always. Crashing and burning a few times has granted me both wisdom and experience. But, not this time – not today. This journey to the “In between place” finds the fullness of God’s mighty purpose.

In my life the true blessing of God are found in these places. Where a faith mines the substance that propels me along my journey – where my eager spirit can finds the passion that drives my life.