I heard this statement a few times Saturday morning as we gathered at Stavanger Church outside of Fergus Falls. Walking into this beautiful, white-steepled country church was like walking into my own house. For well over 20 years I called this place my own, and for a handful of those years I worshiped without my immediate family who had moved into another location for ministry purposes. I tell you, I opened that door and I said, "It smells like Stavanger," and I didn't just mean the building. Stavanger smells like this: conversations after church around a cup of hot coffee, cake-walks and bake sales in the overflow. It smells like funerals and weddings and youth group lock-ins, and private conversations with teens in the front row of the sanctuary. It smells like childhood, adolescence, adulthood and ministry, and it smells like faces I'll never forget. So many of those faces aren't even there anymore. A flood of memories always washes over me when I visit this place, and especially so as we filmed one of the most important scenes of the movie in that beautiful little yard, and I cried with the love that I have for it. What an honor it was to be there that day.
The story of "Sacred" means so much for so many already, but this scene more than all the others I can relate to the best. Over the last few years I've laid to rest a sweet cousin and my best friend, and it baffles me that I haven't completely collapsed with grief. But, God's incredible that way. On a daily basis, he reminds us that he is not a God of death, but of life, and "the grave has been swallowed up in victory." I hate that sick feeling of loneliness, and the sadness I feel when I remind myself that neither Heidi nor Jessika will get to see my kids grow up. And then...the Holy Spirit reminds me that they will. Because he has promised us a future, through his son Jesus Christ. And God always keeps his promises.
As we prepped to get the shots we needed, and as I visited with friends, it made me sad to know that so many of my dear friends, and the people who watched me grow at Stavanger Church, are gone. Couples are missing partners now, the older are now the elderly. It makes me sad because it reminds me that time is passing so quickly, and I wish I could go back to the years when running down the aisle was something I did, and the kind, loving faces were the faces I looked up to from my little height, and not faces that aren't there anymore. And then I see all of the faces that are there, and I dream of all of the faces that will be there when I'm not there anymore, and I remember what's most important: eternity! Eternity is most important, and the home that we have apart from any gentle-loving church. Apart from any small or large congregation. Apart from any individuals and groups of people we get to know. Apart from any of this that doesn't last. And wow, it puts everything into marvelous, hopeful perspective.
On Saturday, we filmed a scene of death with a full casket and a crowd of invested individuals. That same day, I also had the privilege of ushering one of our cast members into the Forever Family of God. What an honor to do this for the very first time in a place that taught me how. What an honor to know that life doesn't end in this little country church, but that this church is a part of a far greater beginning. God has plans for this incredible family of God in this humble place, and he promises that he has plans for you.
And God always keeps his promises. His promises, for real.
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