Messy. Church.

I’ll admit it.  I don’t pray enough. I don’t read my Bible enough. I don’t share my faith enough. I don’t love God enough. I’m an impetuous, passionate, impatient mess and yet God loves me perfectly.

That’s why I was drawn to Crossroads. It’s the plethora of motorcycles in the lot.  It’s my bearded, pierced, tattoed friend that sits back a couple of rows and to the left . . . the one that loves his Droid.

It’s my girlfriend who is married to a drug addict and keeps believing.

Messy. Broken. Beautiful. Real.

Our annual baptism service at Holbrook Hollow is my favorite of the year. This year there were more people being baptized than were at our first church service eight years ago. That’s when we met in a garage. That pre-dates the plastic wrapped pavilion, tattoo parlor mall, cheesy banquet hall, elementary school locations. We’ve graduated to a former roller skating rink. And my pastor is the boy that I sat next to in 4th grade math class at William Winchester Elementary.

I guess you could say we’re a family that keeps the main thing, the main thing. Jesus. My Carl puts it best. “The truth is not a weapon. It just IS.”

Dana. Teacher. Espana-phile. Newleywed.

Rhoten Family. Arms of Jesus. All the time.

Stacie. Brilliant. Artistic. Nurturer.

Reid. Poolside teachin’. Meat.

And TONS of the young and the young at heart.

Keepin’ it real. Are you searching? Just come. 10 am. Sunday. Red warehouse behind the Wawa on 140.

p.s. here’s the gallery, set up for you to snag the pics.