Worrying about Saturday

We are having a party at our house on Saturday.  We’re calling it a Fall Party and inviting everyone from the church plant and encouraging them to invite their friends.  We are going around our neighborhood, handing out invitations and introducing ourselves.  Justin remarked as we went from house to house today how much people’s expressions change when they realize we are not trying to sell them something.  They open the door guardedly, and then when we explain that we are neighbors and we would like for them to come to our house, their faces soften and some even begin to smile.

I don’t know if many of them will come.  If some random neighbor came to my house and invited me over on Saturday, I don’t know that I would go.  But my husband would probably make me, since he loves people like Jesus does and I only love books and friends and family who are already friends and family.  I’m just being honest.  Actually, I like new people in small doses, but an onslaught of new people combined with me trying to host an event for said new people at my house gives me the shakes.

This is our second day of assaulting the neighbors, and I think we’re going to do it again tomorrow.  The weather on Saturday is supposed to be brisk, so we’re renting outside heaters.  Justin has a band and a bouncy house lined up.  The whole thing frightens me.

I struggle with being scared.  What if the church plant doesn’t grow?  What if no one shows up on Saturday?  What if it is too cold and the three people who actually show up don’t go outside to listen to the band?  What if the band only plays covers from hair bands of the 80s?  What if the bouncy house explodes and people sue us?  What if we don’t have enough food?  What if? What if? What if?

What I have to remember is that God is in the what ifs.  He doesn’t freak out, he never leaves me, he is for me and he is big enough to take care of me and everyone I care about.  And anything I enter into, He is already there.  I am the scaredy-kid on the diving board, and he’s the dad in the water, telling me to jump!  That I can trust him, he won’t let me sink.  It is hard sometimes to trust.  But as my dad would say, it sure beats the alternative.


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