Not in the Handbook

Last Wednesday, at our final formation gathering before the summer break, we spent over an hour simply talking about our lives, our families, and the church community we’ve come to love. By the time we finally turned to scripture, there wasn’t much time left.

And yet, it didn’t feel incomplete.

It felt like gratitude overflowing. Somewhere along the way, our group had started to feel like what the local church is meant to be.

It’s not how we would put it in a facilitator’s handbook, but on that night it felt right.

My wife Taylor and I had the privilege of walking through this year with a group of married couples, many in a similar stage of life, raising young children in between diaper changes, sleepless nights, and full schedules. What’s been most meaningful, though, isn’t just what happened during our Wednesday gatherings, but also what happened around them.

Some welcomed new babies during the year and had to step away for a time, but the connection didn’t fade. Couples stayed in touch, checked in, and showed up for one another in tangible ways. One couple helped set up a bed for a family that needed a hand in that season. Another offered a house call to care for a sick dog. There were baby showers, shared meals, Friendsgiving dinners, and playdates. These ordinary moments began to weave our lives together.

Each week, our group gathered around a simple rhythm called C.A.L.L.

We celebrate where we’ve seen God in our week.
We reflect on our actions and hold one another in gentle accountability.
We listen to scripture and pay attention to what the Spirit might be saying.
And we seek to live it by naming an intention for the days ahead.

It’s a simple structure, but over time it becomes a practice of paying attention to God, to our lives, and to one another.

Frederick Buechner once wrote, “Listen to your life…in the boredom and pain of it no less than in the excitement and gladness: touch, taste, smell your way to the holy and hidden heart of it.”

In many ways, that’s what we’ve been learning to do together.

It isn’t a self-improvement project. It’s a space to be known, to slow down long enough to notice what’s happening beneath the surface of our lives, and yes, occasionally to enjoy a brief reprieve from our children.

This past Sunday, we heard Jesus’ words in the Gospel of John 14, where he says, “I am the way.”

He speaks these words to disciples who are anxious and unsure of what’s coming next. They want clarity, something they can hold onto. Instead of giving them a detailed plan, Jesus offers them himself. He invites them into a way of being.

Following Jesus, then, isn’t something we master like a subject. It’s something we’re formed in over time, often in the middle of ordinary life.

I’ve caught glimpses of this in our Wednesday night formation groups and in the shared life that has grown around them. We practice walking the Way together. We don’t always get it right, but we learn to pay attention: to our lives, to one another, and to the ways God is at work among us.

Our formation groups will take a break for the summer, but they’ll return in the fall. If you’re interested in being part of a group, we’d love to hear from you. You can reach out directly to Den Slater, and she’ll help you get connected as plans for the fall take shape.

Maybe it turns out this was never meant to fit neatly in a handbook. Maybe it’s just ordinary people learning to live life together with love, paying attention to where God is at work along the way.

I’ve found that the narrow road feels surprisingly roomy when we walk it together.