HAVE YOU SEEN....

To this day, I still keep hearing a song within my brain....it goes something like this:

"Have you seen Jesus my Lord, He is here in plain view; take a look, open your eyes, He will show love to you.
Have you ever looked at a sunset, with the sky mellowing red; with the clouds suspended like feathers, then I say you've seen Jesus my Lord.
Have you seen Jesus my Lord, He is here in plain view; take a look, open your eyes, He will show love to you.
Have you ever stood at the ocean with the white foam at your feet; felt the endless thundering motion, then I say you've seen Jesus my Lord.
Have you seen Jesus my Lord, He is here in plain view; take a look, open your eyes, He will show love to you.
Have you ever looked at the cross with a man hanging in pain; seen the look of love in His eyes, then I say you've seen Jesus my Lord.

MY VERSION:

Have you ever walked through a crowd of people and noticed the look on their face;
did you see the face of Christ on this person, then I say you've seen Jesus my Lord.
Have you seen Jesus my Lord, He is here in plain view; take a look, open your eyes, He will show love to you."

While I was laying in my hospital bed, waiting for a new heart, I continuously heard this song going through my head.
You have to understand, I could not do anything for myself. NOTHING! I was just staring at the ceiling, waiting .... wondering....
Every single day, someone would come into my room and I would either see the eyes of Jesus on their face or hear His voice when they spoke or feel His touch when they would assist me.
I just knew that He was with me.... every single minute. I just knew that He had a plan for me....

Even today, when I walk down a hall....or down a street....or walk into a building... .or hug a friend, I look for Him in the person I am facing or walking towards. I still see His eyes, hear His voice, and feel His touch.

Today, when I meet someone who knows me or knows of my new heart, I can sense that those who are handicapped, sick, or whatever are wondering WHY him? Why hasn't this happened to me?

When I hug someone who has lost a special loved one, I can feel that they are wondering, why didn't this happen for him (her).I used to start a conversation with a joke (just to break the ice), I would state:
"I was sixty when I received my twenty year old heart, so you add them together for a total of eighty and divided by two, the difference is forty - which is how old I am today. (Ha! Ha!)

Now, I am beginning to wonder if I should just state the facts: "that I am blessed!" and just leave it at that. No more jokes! Sometimes, like now, I feel a little guilty that I was so lucky to have been so blessed. Hmmmm!

Lee W.

 

My Spiritual Journey in New Life

My life really began on September 4, 1966 when I was 32 years old. I grew up in a family of two well functioning alcoholics. By the time I was 16. 1 was drinking too and well on the road to alcoholism. I liked the feeling alcohol gave me. and I felt like I could be around- people more easily. I had no idea what an alcoholic was, nor did I realize that my parents and their friends had a problem. I married when I was 19 and proceeded to drink. Two years in the Air Force with my husband aided and abetted the problem. After the service, he returned to college for 5+ years. We had no money to buy alcohol.. Our visits to our parents, (his were alcoholic too) were my opportunities to drink in those years.
After he graduated we moved to California. We had three young sons. Two more years of training ensued, and then we moved to Yorba Linda. My drinking really took off during a marital crisis in 1961. In 1963 our 4Th son was born. after our move to Yorba Linda. I was ashamed of my drinking and would try to get my sons to bed before drinking so they would not see me I was suicidal at times during the last two years of it and thought my husband and sons would be better off without me.

In late August 1966 our oldest son who was 10 came to me as I was fixing another drink. He confronted me in a sweet and gentle way. I believe that the Holy Spirit was using him to wake me up. I remember thinking, "What am I doing to my sons a week or so later, I awakened on a Sunday morning with a terrible hangover. I could hear my sons and my husband in the kitchen fixing breakfast. I had the realization that I was at a fork in the road and if I kept on as I was I would lose everything that was dear to me. I wasn't really sure if I believed in God or not. I prayed something like this "God, if you're for real please help me because I can't stop this drinking.'" I immediately felt a Presence with me. I felt washed over with love, peace and joy. It is difficult to put it into words but I believe it was a taste of heaven. I knew that I knew that I knew that I would never pickup another drink. I said, "Please take the two packs of cigarettes too." lie did! Thanks be to God I have never picked up either substance again. I began to move in the Grace of God's Love. When I came to a temptation . I would say over and over "I can do all things through Jesus Christ who strengthens me" My parents came for Christmas that year, and the Lord stood between me and that bottle that sat on my kitchen counter.

I have found that when I go to God's Word he always gives me the answers I need to sustain me.

Susie H.

 

Hallelujah, The Light Is Here!

The Power of Perseverance

I'm writing this during Lent, the season of preparation for Easter, the great celebration of Jesus' death and resurrection.   Jesus is the Light that came into the world, on Good Friday his light went out and then on Easter his risen Light reappeared and will never go out again. We have his risen Light to guide and comfort us forever, no matter what! God faithfully perseveres in reaching out to us, no matter what!

Hallelujah! The Light is a central image in the Catechesis of the Good Shepherd. One Sunday last Fall we were acquainting the children in the atrium with the Prophecy of the Light (Isaiah 9:2) where God promises the people that He will send the Light so they no longer have to walk in darkness.

The children were really rowdy and I doubted if they were 'getting it'; I considered waiting a week and trying again, but I persevered. When we got to the meditative questions, I asked, "I wonder how the people felt when they heard God's promise to send the Light?"  One child stopped spinning long enough to answer, “They felt God was close to them."  Another stopped twitching and chimed in, "They felt God touching them."   Hallelujah, the Light had come! As is often the case, I learn along with the children by working with them.  My work in the atrium has real meaning in my life.  This past Christmas Eve I reaped the fruits of another period of perseverance, I had my family (14) over for dinner.  That may not seem monumental to most, but, believe me, it was a really big deal in my life.  I hadn't felt like doing it for about 10 years - and I not only managed it physically, but I really enjoyed doing it!

For a number of years, I've been 'walking in darkness' with a chronic illness (fibromyalgia/chronic fatigue syndrome).  Much of that time, I felt like I was enduring life, just putting one foot in front of the other.  During those dark years God sustained me in many ways, notably by enabling me to do things that feed my soul (singing, playing my flute, loving my husband, seeing my grandchildren, reading, coming to church, being part of an internet support group).  For several years I had declined slowly but surely (like my life was on a dimmer switch). About 6 years ago I became extremely ill, and then, through God's leading, experienced very gradual, but steady improvement (the dimmer switch was slowly being turned back up).  I persevered even though the improvement was so subtle that I could only see it by looking back over time.  For example, for the past three years I've been singing the Mozart Requiem on the anniversary of his death (December 4th/5th at midnight!).  The first year I sat for the entire performance and barely made it through, the 2nd year I sat for part of it and was exhausted at the end, this past December I stood for the entire performance and felt energized when it was over!  Hallelujah, the Light is here! I feel like I've been gone and now I'm back, and want you all to know that just by being here at Emmanuel you've played an important part in God's faithful sustenance to me over the years.  Please know that you are carriers of the Light for those of us who endure a very long Lent during our life's journeys.  Bless you.

Love,
Ginger Cash

 

Star Struck

by Kelli Edwards

I started to prepare for my 40th birthday on my 38th birthday. Being a natural worrier, I wanted to get a head start.  Getting my cholesterol checked would give me peace of mind.  At the end of the appointment I casually mentioned I sometimes notice a small amount of blood in my stool.  The doctor peered over her eyeglasses and, for the first time, looked directly at me, "You need to get a colonoscopy."

I knew exactly what she was talking about and politely declined. Aside from the fact that I was needle phobic and had impossible veins, I was not keen on that part of my body being explored by any kind of probing device.  I had heard many horror stories from my mom.   Anyways, her tests only turned out a few bothersome hemorrhoids.

After politely declining the doctor's kind offer, she firmly responded, "You may have cancer.  You need to have this test."  That very word sent a wave of fear through me, which quickly turned into anger.  How dare she scare me like that.  I'm a perfectly healthy active mother of three.  I couldn't possibly have cancer.  Did she have to be so blunt?   However, being the people pleaser I am, I lied and told her I would order the test.

I went home to my beautiful new house.  This particular summer seemed too good to be true.  My husband and I, both teachers, had made a daring move and purchased our dream home.  We were house poor but this place was a paradise for our kids.  By Southern California standards, the quarter acre lot was huge.  A peaceful view of the hills was the backdrop for a huge swimming pool.

That August George and I had an evening alone for our 16th wedding anniversary.  We decided to take a warm midnight swim in the glasslike water.  The air was just cool enough to be refreshing.  Life couldn't be more perfect.  I remember sharing that it was almost painful to have it so good because it could all be taken away in a heartbeat.  George wisely responded, "Kelli, if we lost it all tomorrow, I'd be so grateful I had today."  I remember feeling jealous of his ability to appreciate the moment.

Tragic things were happening around me, but I preferred the security in the perfection of my own little world.  I had three gorgeous kids, all healthy active and thriving.  I loved my teaching job and had wonderful girl friends.  I went to church on Sundays and prayed to God once in a while, especially when I wanted something.  However, my red Bible given to me for my confirmation in 1986 looked brand new.
Taking time to view pain or tragedy outside of my world was not in my agenda.  My children's former nanny, Rosa, meanwhile was suffering with metastasized colon cancer.  My good-hearted husband would hoard us all after church once a month to visit her.  As I held her frail jaundiced hand, my brain told me I should be sad but my heart remained detached.

The day Rosa passed her sister called and asked if I would like to say goodbye.  I halfheartedly paid my respects to my dear friend over the phone, too busy to jump into the car and be by her side.  I was entertaining that evening and wanted my house perfect.  Little did I know that party would be my last night of heedless bliss.

The next morning, my sweet denial was halted by the ruby red water in the toilet bowl.  Shaken, I finally scheduled the dreaded colonoscopy.  The prep for the test was as unpleasant as I had been told and my head throbbed without my caffeine fix.  I fretted all morning- would they be able to find a vein?  After three sticks the nurse was finally successful.  The next thing I remember was hearing a nurse say, "She's too young for such a big polyp." "Oh well," I rationalized, "polyps are usually benign."

Unfortunately that wasn't the case for me.  My doctor called me at work and rambled something about two types of cancer.  One was probably a stage one colon cancer and the other was a very rare type of cancer called carcinoid. It was deeply imbedded in the tissue.  I would need to schedule an appointment with an oncologist and call radiology for a CT scan of my liver.
Words cannot describe the terror I felt as I sat in my principal's office with the phone receiver in my hand.  Every detail of that moment is forever cemented in my mind.  Gail, my beloved school secretary, placed a blanket around my shivering shoulders.  Adrenaline surged through my body making the room spin.  All I could think of was Rosa.  I would die a slow painful death like Rosa.  Where was God?  My idyllic life was over.

The next few weeks were a blur of doctors' appointments, painfully invasive tests and waiting for phone calls- the dreaded phone calls.
The worst one came on October 31st.  My costumed kids were ready to go trick-or-treating when the phone rang.  My heart sped as I heard my doctor's voice, "Kelli I have some bad news.  The CT scan showed several spots in the liver." I immediately googled carcinoid cancer.   The 5-year survival rate for liver metastasis was 36%.

The news only got worse.  My HMO wanted to take a "wait and see" approach.  They would do a colon resection for the primary tumors but my liver was untreatable.  There was nowhere to turn, or was there?  How could the same God who let Rosa die a horrible death help me?  Who was I to ask for such help?

A heavenly olive branch came through my precious daughter.  As I dropped her off at school one morning, she said, "Mommy, I have a Bible verse in my head- Matthew 14:27."  I wasn't familiar with that verse so I wrote it on a piece of scrap paper and stuck it in my back pocket.  Later that afternoon, I was crying in my bedroom when Cassidy knocked on the door.
I wiped my eyes and tried not to let my voice crack when I told her to come in.  She asked what the verse said.  At first I didn't know what she was talking about but I finally remembered and pulled it out of my pocket.  I cracked open my pristine red Bible and leafed through to find Matthew 14:27.  My whole body tingled with the Holy Spirit as I read, "Take courage, it is I, do not be afraid."  The evil-handed grip of fear released itself from my neck as I looked up to God.

I sobbed and sobbed and asked for His forgiveness for not being in close communion with him for years.   I repented for not being a better friend to Rosa. A deep sense of peace came as I recommitted myself to Him.  Out of that came a dogged sense of determination to fight for my life.  My kids, my husband, my parents, my students, and my friends all needed me.  My life's purpose on Earth was not yet fulfilled.

Things began to miraculously fall into place. I located one of the top carcinoid specialists and my open enrollment at work allowed me to switch insurances.  My oncologist gave me a renewed sense of hope. Although there is no medical cure, he said remission was possible with life long treatment.

God gave me an even brighter promise through my seven year old daughter, Aubree. One day while praying, she came in and said, "Mommy, I have a verse for you- John one hundred fourteen."

I giggled to myself and said, "Honey, I don't think John goes that high, but let's try John 11:4."  My heart skipped a beat as my finger swept over the precious words, "This sickness is not unto death but to glorify the Lord."
I took those words not only as a promise, but as a commission.  I knew only God could take horrific liver cancer and use it for His and my good.  He continued to speak to me daily through scriptures I looked up in my red Bible.  I scribbled the passages into journals- His words medicine to my soul.

After two major abdominal surgeries and four chemo-embolization treatments on my liver, I finally heard that glorious word that every cancer patient longs for - "Yes, Kelli you are in remission," my beloved oncologist said.

The prayers came pouring in from all over.  One such person happened to be an aunt who lives in Florida.  She shared that a group of women in her church called "Daughter's of the King" were praying for me.  She also mentioned that Renee Zellweger's mother, Irene, belonged to the group and frequently asked about me.  Wow! A celebrity's mom was praying for me!  I was a huge fan and bragged to anyone who would listen that I was being prayed for by Renee Zellweger's mother.

Meanwhile the treatments continued.  I decided to make the best of my monthly trips to Cedars Sinai.  After all, it was located in Beverly Hills.  Why not bring a girl friend and have lunch on Rodeo Drive afterwards.  My dear friend Bonnie loved the idea.  After parking behind Barney's we set out for Rodeo.  I said a little prayer out loud, "Lord, please let me see a celebrity today."  Bonnie teased me and said I was being ridiculous for such a trivial prayer.  I told her to mind her own prayer business.

We enjoyed a delicious lobster lunch and an afternoon of window-shopping.  After taking photos, we headed back for the car.  I had been intently looking for my movie star sighting all afternoon to no avail.  As we waited for our car behind Barney's, I heard a familiar voice.  When I looked up, I saw the back of a dark haired woman.

"Renee!" I blurted out.  She turned and gave me her full attention.  Now I could clearly see it really was Renee Zellweger standing not more than 5 feet away from me!   I found myself involuntarily stammering, "Ummm, My name is Kelli and I have cancer and your mom has been praying for me."

"Oh dear me. I thought to myself, she is going to call her body guard over and have me hauled away." But she didn't.  Instead she gave me a huge smile and said, "My mom, my mom is right here.  She's visiting from Florida."

My friend has had to recount for me the next few moments- some of the most joyous moments of my life. I was floating.  I was floating, not only because Renee and Irene were both gracious and full of hugs and words of encouragement, but because I knew that God loved me so much.

Out of all the millions people and chaos in this universe, he cared enough about me to orchestrate that meeting- just because I asked.
This summer I celebrated my 40th birthday in style,  surrounded by loved ones.  I still have my perfect house but now it is a home weathered by the storm of my family's tears.  My life has more purpose and meaning than I could have ever known three years ago.   I dearly miss Rosa, but, graciously, God has given me other opportunities to minister to terminal patients- opportunities I would have never had if I had not been diagnosed myself.   Even death isn't as terrifying now that I know with every cell of my being God's welcoming arms await me.  In the interim, while here on Earth, I view each day as a gift full of opportunities to glorify Him.

 

IT SNUCK UP ON ME WHILE I WASN’T REALLY LOOKING

(OR, HOW I BECAME AN EMMANUELIAN)

by Meg Suich

In the spring of 1994 I started dating Ron Suich.   I lived in Ventura County, he lived in Orange County (how we met and started dating is another story all by itself).  Weeks and months went by, and despite the obvious geographical challenges we continued to see one another.  Eventually we began to spend weekends either at my place in Simi Valley or his place in Fullerton.

I had searched for a church home for years, and just before meeting Ron I had finally found a place in Simi Valley that had at least some of what I was seeking.  When he was in Simi Valley, we usually went there on Sundays.  And when we were at Ron’s in Fullerton, we started going to Emmanuel Episcopal church together.  Ron had attended Emmanuel some years before with his ex-wife and family, prior to his divorce.  After the divorce he had “given custody” of Emmanuel to his ex-wife, since she needed the friends and support system she had developed there.  But some time before we met Ron’s ex-wife had moved away to a high desert town called Ridgecrest—so Emmanuel had become available to Ron again.

The first few times I went threw with Ron, the Episcopal liturgy seemed a bit odd to me.  I had attended a Lutheran church for a couple of years at one time, and that church used a formal liturgy for each service.  Unlike the Lutheran church, the liturgy was sung instead of spoken or chanted.  Despite feeling a bit out of my depth with the liturgy, I found it was a pretty nice place.  It had a nice sanctuary, a nice leader (Fr. Rob), and nice people who were friendly.  The messages were nice.  Does it seem that I am overusing the word nice?  Well, nice is what is seemed, plain and simple. 

 In March of 1995 I became ill with mononucleosis, which eventually degraded into a really serious case of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (CFS).  Usually if I had the energy to get down to Fullerton to be at Ron’s, we usually couldn’t do much else---not even go to church together.  During that time Ron mostly came up to Simi Valley, and was quite patient with my illness.  Usually the CFS left me too tired and drained to do much of anything.  As a result, threw were some long stretches where I did not get to attend services at Emmanuel.

 Well, Ron saw something in me (you’ll just have to ask him) and in December of 1995 we were married—even though my health wasn’t very good.  It’s remarkable, I think, that he chose to marry someone who was as ill as I, and who had no real prospects of ever getting well again.

 After we got married and were living in Fullerton full time, we started going to Emmanuel every Sunday.  Well, actually I couldn’t go every Sunday because sometimes I was just not able to make it.  And some of the Sundays when I did make it, I would have to stay sitting in the pews the for the whole service, because all the activity of standing/sitting/kneeling/standing took more energy than I had available.  But if anyone had noticed I was not standing/sitting/kneeling/standing, they did not say anything (at least not to me).

 For a long time I was too ill to be aware of much outside myself and my limited life.  But as was able to, I continued to attend Emmanuel.  I listed to the “nice” messages and spent a little time with all those “nice” people and the “nice” pastor.

 Because  of my illness I can’t pinpoint now exactly when it was that the process of personal revelation began---the illness affected my memory and often left me confused.  But sometime in that first year or so my subconscious began to take notice (my conscious was way to busy trying to cope with my illness).  What was it taking notice of?  Well, for one thing there was no condemnation, no message of being a sinner who was perched with one foot in hell and the other on a banana peel.  For another thing, we were constantly reminded not of our inadequacies, but of how much God loved us—warts and all.  gift of Jesus and the strength of His life’s purpose were what Fr. Rob talked about, along with Jesus’s selfless, unconditional redemption of us through His death on the cross.  There was never a hint that I was not worthy of his gift, and never a suggestion that I had anything to be afraid of in my relationship with the Heavenly Father.

 And slowly, slowly I began to see things differently, and to feel things that were new to me.  I began to see and feel the effect of living in Grace, and being surrounded by Grace.  And I bean to feel the inklings of what it was like to be loved unconditionally by God, and what that meant.  And I began to feel less like a cosmic screw-up who needed constant chastisement, and more like a child of a Father whose love, patience and forgiveness were given without qualification; whose character of love, patience and understanding would never falter.

 As I began to feel these things about myself, I was able to look around me and see this in the other people who attended Emmanuel.  It was a bit of a slow process due to my illness, but because I did not have so spend so much energy being vigilant in my life so I would not fall out of favor with God, I had the time and spiritual energy to really take a look at who was around me and see them with new insights.  I was looking at them with different eyes.

 And as a clear and powerful evidence of Grace, an Emmanuel friend helped me start on the path  that led to complete recovery from my illness.  It took about 18 months, but I was cured and my life given back to me.

 Still, the realization of the way Emmanuel was different did not hit all at once.  Over time I came to understand that Emmanuel was full of people who were loving because they felt loved, who had substance because they were given a bountiful supply of substance.  They cared about others because they knew how much they, themselves, were cared for.  And I became aware of a loving, giving parish made up of people constantly seeking to not only experience God’s love, but also reach out to others in the hope that these others could experience it, too.  And I was learning to love myself more, trust God and Jesus Christ more, and feel the of love coming into my life from the wellspring of the Living God.

 Those experiences marked the beginning of a new walk with God.  I remember clearly the first time I took a class that Father Paul offered, and learned about getting into The Presence.  I was enthralled by the concept of being able to access feelings of Grace at any time, anywhere, by getting into The Presence.  And I could stay in The Presence, instead of letting life’s vagaries take me away and leave me on the outside looking in.

 And—talking about interesting and novel concepts—how about Fr. Paul’s assertion “Events don’t cause feelings, thoughts cause feelings” for a new idea? (!)  Yes, wrapping my mind around that one was a challenge at first.  But the concept Fr. Paul brought me which absolutely blew me away, the one that left me with my jaw agape and my head shaking in wonder, was “How would you feel about making a confession of your sins if you knew you had already been forgiven?”

 Now, I thought Emmanuel’s leadership was just about perfect back in those days—I felt I could not ask for more.  But then we received the gift of MoLyn!  Though I would probably have said it wasn’t possible to make our worship and our community better, the spiritual depth of our church and of our worship experience increased notably when MoLyn joined us.  We had an empty place we did not realize was there, until MoLyn filled it and our gifts of Grace were increased by her presence.

 For instance, I thought I’d had some pretty big surprises from Fr. Paul, then one day Mo Lyn offered up her message that God is a woman!  Now, she began by reminding us that she had waited through more than two years of preaching at Emmanuel before bringing it up.  I know there are people who would have disagreed with her about God being a woman, and I know there are people out there today who would heartily criticize the concept.  But for me—well, MoLyn opened up new places in my heart.  It is something she has done time and again over the years since she has been with us.

 And now, after 10-plus years, I am steeped in the life of Emmanuel.  And I am spoiled beyond explanation.  There is one thing of which I am certain: I could never go back to where I had been before.  There are many “nice” churches out there with “nice” people and pastors, but when it comes down to the foundation of the church and the life of the parish, there is no place like Emmanuel.  I have never—before or since—been to a church where there is so much love, caring, substance and spirituality.  And when I think of our mission, “Learning to walk in love, as Christ loved us,” I realize there are few churches who could actually pull this off.  Maybe they could put together the form, but the substance would be lacking—as well as the unique spirit. 

 So now that I have seen, felt and understood the gift that is Emmanuel, I have realized that it is not the only Episcopal faith that has created this place, and it is not only the Episcopalian beliefs and practices that have given it life and substance.  Emmanuel has a life and substance (and yes, a power) that is all its own.  It began in the heart of Fr. Paul and ignited the heart of Fr. Rob, Mo. Lyn, and on through the rest of us.  It is a place that is unique unto itself, with its own special life and inimitable spirit.

 And that’s why even though I attend an Episcopal church, I do not just say I am an Episcopalian. I am something unique, much more precious and vibrant.  I am caught up in the singular experience that is our Emmanuel.  And that is why, when asked about my church affiliation, I am proud and happy to say:

 “Why, I’m an Emmanuelian!  That’s right—Emmanuelian.  You’ve never heard of it?  I’m not surprised…  Can I tell you about it?”

 

“The Top 10 Things I Love About Emmanuel Episcopal Church”

By Patty McDaneld

1. The Women’s Retreat:  Where the warm and gracious women, who had never met me before, embraced and welcomed me “just the way I am”.
2. The Music Group: Whose songs of praise and thanksgiving echo in my mind throughout my week bringing me joy and keeping me “on track”.  I love having the words of the songs and prayers projected on the wall so even I can read it.
3. The Outreach Programs:  I love contributing money when I know it goes to the people who need it most.  I love having cassette tapes of the mass available so I can listen to uplifting words and prayers when I am working and not able to go to Sunday mass.
4. Mother Lynda, AKA:   “Mo’ Lyn”:  I love Mo’ Lyn’s genuineness, warmth, big smile, and awesome blessings. I especially love her sense of humor and readiness to laugh.
5. Father Rob:  I love Fr. Rob’s thoughtful, yet amusing, sermons. I love his willingness to stop and listen to even the smallest of his parishioners. I especially love it when the Spirit moves him to grab his 12-string guitar and join in a song of praise because HE JUST COULDN’T RESIST.
6. The Prayer Chain:  This dedicated team of people has been credited with many miracles, both big and small.
7. Fellowship:  The hugs during mass, the treats afterward, the trips to the dinner theater, the picnics, the potlucks, the hikes, knowing everyone’s name and everyone knowing mine.  Need I say more!
8. “Ish”:  I love having mass start at “8:15ish” and “10:00ish”.
9. No Guilt:  I love going to a church where all are welcome…no matter what.  Many different forms of worship are presented and available, but nothing is forced or mandatory.  We are free to choose how each one of us will worship within this unique community.
10. Church in the Round:  I love having a circular church. It makes mass feel like it is all of us worshiping equally.  I love Fr. Rob and Mo’ Lyn sitting with us as a part of the congregation. I like the balance of having Fr. Rob and Mo’ Lyn celebrate the mass together…it just feels right.