Psalm 18:19. (ESV) He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me.
There had to be more. I was sitting alone in church, something I had gotten used to since Dad had stopped attending. His reason for departure was philosophical, generating from his disagreement on the manner in which the elders had severed ties with the previous pastor. Jenny and Joy had stopped coming, too, marking graduation from high school as a rite of passage to exercise their free will. Everything was changing in the spiritual realm for our family. Only Christy was still young enough to follow me to church. Being part of a church was still important to me, but the sermons were stagnant and the pastoral interaction absent of personal interest. After three years, he still didn't know my name. I was longing for something more.
A year before at the annual Christian conference I attended, I mistakenly stepped into a session on church planting led by Wayne Cordeiro. As he described his vision for what a church should be like, I thought, I want that. It was a wish I couldn't surmise happening; Wayne was pastor of a church of 2,000 in Hilo. But surprising news was unveiling. Pastor Wayne was moving to Honolulu to establish a New Hope church here. I was elated and scared. Would I have the gumption to leave my home church? There was nothing holding me back except history and familiarity. And then there was Christy. She was a sixth grader who was involved in children's choir and had friends who were part of her Sunday School life. I pondered the scale of displacing her versus contending with the need to feed my Christian faith, and concluded that the best thing I could do for Chris was to grow my faith. So I decided to attend New Hope's first service at Stevenson Intermediate in September 1995.
Have you ever stepped into a room and immediately felt the Spirit of God there? I was a stranger among the 700, but my heart exploded as we worshipped and Wayne's message caught me in laughter and then tears. But emotions are transient. Was this worth changing churches for? For awhile I attended KUC to help Aunty count the adult Sunday School attendance, then drove over to Stevenson in time for the service. I'm sure other people were also splitting their time between churches, because at one point, Wayne asked that if we were attending New Hope out of curiosity rather than God's leading, we needed to return to our home churches. Go back, he said. He was under much criticism then from congregations around the island who were seeing members drawn to this New Hope pastor. It was more than curiosity that stirred my spirit, though. God was asking me to choose between KUC and New Hope. I uncharacteristically took a risk and chose New Hope…I couldn't give up how alive God was there. Once Children's Choir recessed for the summer, Christy and I started attending New Hope full-time. She eventually became involved with the dance team and I with the women's ministry, and our sense of belonging grew. One Saturday, Dad informed me that he was going to church with us on Sunday. By then he had been absent from church attendance for 12 years. Would he have returned to KUC? I don't know, but as we walked in together, I started crying because God hadn't given up on him.
Twenty years later, we sit together on the Mezzanine floor of New Hope, our usual spot now so Elly can move about unobtrusively. The service hasn't started yet, and a boy who had befriended me the week before when he let me touch his slime putty sits next to me again for a short time while he awaits Children's Ark. (I ask him where his slime is and he says he had to throw it away because it messed up the house.) I start a conversation with his father. How long have you come to New Hope, I ask? One year, he says, after having attended his former church for 20 years. Then he comments: Our family has grown more spiritually in this one year than in the 20 years before. I can fully relate.
I mentioned to Joy recently that I have envisioned returning to KUC in our older age, going back to a small church home. I observe Elly, though, confidently unleashed to grab her cookie on her way into the building, leading the way up the stairs to our spot, clapping to the beat of worship, and I think, how can we leave. The next generation needs a place like New Hope. When controversies hit the news involving speculation of New Hope's intentions, I cannot explain away these dilemmas. Nevertheless, I begin to envision now that New Hope will be our legacy to our generations seeking something more to a faith in God. We have bought one of the tiles with our names on it that will be laid on the floor to denote that we were a part of this effort called New Hope. We hope it will serve as a remembrance of our story and yours.
In faith,
Mom
There had to be more. I was sitting alone in church, something I had gotten used to since Dad had stopped attending. His reason for departure was philosophical, generating from his disagreement on the manner in which the elders had severed ties with the previous pastor. Jenny and Joy had stopped coming, too, marking graduation from high school as a rite of passage to exercise their free will. Everything was changing in the spiritual realm for our family. Only Christy was still young enough to follow me to church. Being part of a church was still important to me, but the sermons were stagnant and the pastoral interaction absent of personal interest. After three years, he still didn't know my name. I was longing for something more.
A year before at the annual Christian conference I attended, I mistakenly stepped into a session on church planting led by Wayne Cordeiro. As he described his vision for what a church should be like, I thought, I want that. It was a wish I couldn't surmise happening; Wayne was pastor of a church of 2,000 in Hilo. But surprising news was unveiling. Pastor Wayne was moving to Honolulu to establish a New Hope church here. I was elated and scared. Would I have the gumption to leave my home church? There was nothing holding me back except history and familiarity. And then there was Christy. She was a sixth grader who was involved in children's choir and had friends who were part of her Sunday School life. I pondered the scale of displacing her versus contending with the need to feed my Christian faith, and concluded that the best thing I could do for Chris was to grow my faith. So I decided to attend New Hope's first service at Stevenson Intermediate in September 1995.
Have you ever stepped into a room and immediately felt the Spirit of God there? I was a stranger among the 700, but my heart exploded as we worshipped and Wayne's message caught me in laughter and then tears. But emotions are transient. Was this worth changing churches for? For awhile I attended KUC to help Aunty count the adult Sunday School attendance, then drove over to Stevenson in time for the service. I'm sure other people were also splitting their time between churches, because at one point, Wayne asked that if we were attending New Hope out of curiosity rather than God's leading, we needed to return to our home churches. Go back, he said. He was under much criticism then from congregations around the island who were seeing members drawn to this New Hope pastor. It was more than curiosity that stirred my spirit, though. God was asking me to choose between KUC and New Hope. I uncharacteristically took a risk and chose New Hope…I couldn't give up how alive God was there. Once Children's Choir recessed for the summer, Christy and I started attending New Hope full-time. She eventually became involved with the dance team and I with the women's ministry, and our sense of belonging grew. One Saturday, Dad informed me that he was going to church with us on Sunday. By then he had been absent from church attendance for 12 years. Would he have returned to KUC? I don't know, but as we walked in together, I started crying because God hadn't given up on him.
Twenty years later, we sit together on the Mezzanine floor of New Hope, our usual spot now so Elly can move about unobtrusively. The service hasn't started yet, and a boy who had befriended me the week before when he let me touch his slime putty sits next to me again for a short time while he awaits Children's Ark. (I ask him where his slime is and he says he had to throw it away because it messed up the house.) I start a conversation with his father. How long have you come to New Hope, I ask? One year, he says, after having attended his former church for 20 years. Then he comments: Our family has grown more spiritually in this one year than in the 20 years before. I can fully relate.
I mentioned to Joy recently that I have envisioned returning to KUC in our older age, going back to a small church home. I observe Elly, though, confidently unleashed to grab her cookie on her way into the building, leading the way up the stairs to our spot, clapping to the beat of worship, and I think, how can we leave. The next generation needs a place like New Hope. When controversies hit the news involving speculation of New Hope's intentions, I cannot explain away these dilemmas. Nevertheless, I begin to envision now that New Hope will be our legacy to our generations seeking something more to a faith in God. We have bought one of the tiles with our names on it that will be laid on the floor to denote that we were a part of this effort called New Hope. We hope it will serve as a remembrance of our story and yours.
In faith,
Mom