My childhood was spent near the Gulf. I have been back often. It feels like home at times. On other occasions, not so much. Like Ocala is becoming now, it is so overdeveloped that it’s hard to find the serenity of nature. Am I sentimental about Tampa Bay? I think it’s the aura of being a true Floridian. I don’t mean that in the backwoods, native sense, because that area is not that. It can still be a gentle, laid-back vibe. Who doesn’t want to take a week or two to hang out on the beach? To me it is still special, unique. It is my heritage.

No matter where I have lived or traveled, it (home) has been a navigational beacon. No matter where I’ve been, church has been my true north. Does anyone else feel lost, discombobulated, if you don’t know which direction north is? Does anyone else feel alienated and alone if you lose your true home base, which is church? Wherever grace is felt and the Good News is proclaimed in Word and Sacrament, there is an anchor for our soul. Whenever I miss a week of worship, I feel disoriented; unmoored. I know, it’s kind of my job. Knowing where I’m supposed to be every Sunday morning and Wednesday evening. More than that, however, it is the Holy Spirit in us, our shared baptismal vocation.

I have worshipped on the beach. I have worshipped in the mountains. I have worshipped on a (ahem) warship. Location, geography,…it certainly doesn’t matter to our God. The unconditional love only asks for our presence. His heart’s desire is to have a relationship with us, no matter where we are. 

Pastor Art