Week 24 was one of those weekends that felt like a little bit of everything got thrown into the blender. A new dentist. A next gen ministry meeting. A one-year-old calling the shots. A rainy-day Ikea adventure. A buffet that challenged my personal boundaries. Full altars. Three baptisms. And somewhere in there, I managed to change out of wet baptism clothes and keep moving.
In other words, it was a weekend.
But as I look back over it, there was one thought that kept rising to the surface: most of life happens in the in-between. We love beginnings. We celebrate endings. We mark the big moments. But most of the shaping, stretching, learning, praying, building, and becoming happens somewhere in the middle. The in-between is not wasted space. It is sacred space.
So here we go — Week 24.
Friday
Friday started slower than normal, which is rare enough that I feel like it deserves documentation. I did not rush out of bed. I did not sprint into the day. I eased into the morning like a man who knew he had something waiting on the calendar that he had successfully avoided for far too long.
The dentist.
Since we are still getting settled here in Indiana, we are still finding all the new places. New grocery store. New gas station. New shortcuts. New restaurants. And now, a new dentist.
I went to Anderson Family Dental for an exam and cleaning, and I will say this: it was a good experience, as far as dental experiences go. That is about the highest compliment I know how to give a dentist visit. Nobody walks out of a cleaning saying, “I cannot wait to do that again,” but the people were kind, they did a great job, and I left with my teeth polished up like they had just been through a church work day.
They also fixed a filling that had fallen out, which is the dental equivalent of your mouth submitting a maintenance request. One minute you are eating like a normal human being, and the next minute your tooth is saying, “We need to talk.” Thankfully, they got everything back in place, and I left with clean teeth, a repaired filling, and a renewed commitment to not ignoring dental appointments until my mouth starts sending formal complaints.
Later that afternoon, I shifted gears and met with our next gen directors at GT Church. We talked through vision, direction, and what we believe God is building in the next generation.
I left that meeting genuinely excited.
I cannot share everything yet, but I can say this: there are some good things coming. I believe deeply that the next generation is not the church of tomorrow. They are the church of today. We are not building for them by accident. We are building for them on purpose.
That evening, I got home late and found out DeAnna had already picked up Amira to spend the night with us. She was already in bed when I got home but she did slept through the night, which, as every parent and grandparent knows, is its own kind of revival.
Saturday
Saturday morning, I woke up to the sound of Amira running roll call from her crib. If you've spent any time around our family, you already know the routine. She wakes up and starts working through her list of everyone who might come spring her loose, one name at a time, until somebody finally shows up.
"Lolli... Pops... Mama... Daddy..."
And because she's thorough, she doesn't stop with the people. She brings in the dogs too. "Jadie... Bubba," which is what she calls Bentley. She'll run the whole roster until she has been delivered from the crib. I'm not saying a one-year-old runs our entire household, but I am saying she keeps a personnel list and she is not afraid to use it.
When I went in to get her, the first words out of her mouth were "Pop Pop, coffee." I told her I was already drinking my coffee, thank you very much. She thought about that for a second and then upgraded her request: "Pancakes." Well, when the boss asks for pancakes, you go find pancakes. So we headed over to The Diner in Pendleton and got her exactly what she ordered.
After breakfast we tried to take her to the park in Pendleton, but Indiana had other ideas. It started to rain, because of course it did. Indiana weather likes to keep us humble. One minute you're packing up for the park, the next you're scrambling for an indoor backup plan. So we did what any reasonable family does when the sky turns on them. We drove to Ikea to "just look around."
Now, nobody "just looks around" at Ikea. You go in to walk off a rainy afternoon and you come out questioning your shelving, your storage bins, and whether you really needed a plate of meatballs on the way to the register. We made it through the maze, kept Amira entertained, and eventually took her back home to mom and dad.
Later, DeAnna and I met up with some folks to try a new restaurant in Castleton called Yumi, a seafood buffet. We loved it. They had all kinds of things, more than I could get to in one trip through the line. I even worked up the nerve to try some ox tongue. I'll be honest with you: I will not be doing that again. I'm glad I tried it, I can check it off the list, and I will be giving it a wide and respectful distance for the rest of my natural life. Some experiences are educational. That one was very educational.
We headed home to rest up for Sunday, though rest is a relative term when there's a service to get ready. I spent the evening doing the finish work. Slides for the sermon, polishing my message, entering the songs into the presenter system, and getting all the countdowns and media set. People see the service on Sunday morning. They don't always see the Saturday night that makes it possible. The small things are the big things, and Saturday night is where a lot of the small things get done.
Sunday
Sunday came early, which is the only way Sunday knows how to come. I was up before the alarm, already knowing it was going to be a full day. I got to church early to handle the most important prep there is. Before I looked at a single slide or read a single line of my notes, I prayed. Prayer is not preparation for the work. Prayer is the work. So I prayed, looked my message over one more time, and got ready for whatever God wanted to do.
And He showed up. We had a great service. I preached on "The Altar Between What Was and What's Next." The idea is simple but it won't leave me alone: there's a sacred space between the season you're leaving and the season you're walking into, and the altar is where you meet God in the middle of it. The altar is where God changes people. I believe that with everything in me, and Sunday proved it one more time.
The altars were full. People came forward, knelt down, and met with God right there in that in-between place. And the celebration didn't stop at the altar. We baptized three more people this week. Three more who decided that what's next is worth more than what was. There is nothing, and I mean nothing, like watching somebody go under the water and come up brand new.
Speaking of water, that's also how I ended up changing out of wet clothes halfway through the morning. Baptisms will do that to a pastor. I got changed and then ran straight to our First Impression and Hospitality team meeting. Pastor Mike graciously took that one over so I could get to my next stop, which was a practice with our Gospel Choir.
We're getting ready for our Celebrate America service coming up on July 5, and the choir sounded good. There's something about a room full of voices preparing to lift up the name of Jesus that sets the tone for everything ahead. We've got good things coming, and Sunday was a reminder that we're not coasting toward them. We're preparing for them.
Closing Thoughts
Week 24 was full. It had a new dentist, a refilled filling, a meeting with our next gen leaders, a toddler running roll call, pancakes on demand, a rained-out park, an Ikea detour, ox tongue I sincerely regret, full altars, and three more baptisms.
But through all of it, one thread kept tugging on me. Most of life happens in the in-between, and God is right there in the middle of it.
We celebrate the start. We celebrate the finish. But the altar sits between the two.
Between what was and what's next. Between the season we're leaving and the one we're walking into. Between the person we've been and the person God is calling us to become.
We can plan the service. We can polish the slides. We can rehearse the songs. We can train the leaders, set the countdowns, and greet every guest at the door. But the real work happens at the altar, in the in-between, where God meets people and sends them home different than they came.
That's what I'm praying for. Not just full rooms, but changed lives. Not just a good service, but a real move of God. Not just people who showed up, but people who came forward and refused to leave the same.
Lord, meet us in the in-between. Make us a people who run to the altar instead of around it. Let us pursue revival, build authentic community, release God-given purpose, and leave a legacy that impacts generations.
And Lord, while You're at it, next time I'm tempted to order the ox tongue, gently remind me that some doors are better left shut. I'll stick to my hot tea.
Above All Continue In Love And Excellence.
