Day 8"Every vision is a joke until the first man accomplished it; once realized, it becomes commonplace."
Dr. Robert Goddard
Before we pick apart our first church, I'll provide a little background on my spiritual journey. For the last14 years, Quilter Girl and I attended Canyon Ridge Christian Church, a non denominational church, and quite large. Currently we can serve as many as 7k on a weekend. I volunteered in the Men's Ministry, and operated as Vice-chair of the Operations Team, which managed the business of the church. And Quilter Girl? Right. She worked in the quilt ministry, providing lovely pieces of art to newborns and others.
Tomorrow we embark for Colorado.
Because I worked 'behind the scenes', if you will, I saw the good, the bad, and the ugly of our church, and the church in general. I still love it, which is good, because Christ loves the church. Enough.
Moab Community Church is located on 'church row' in Moab. The Catholics, Baptists and MCC line up for the faithful. It's a small, neat brick building with friendly people. QG and I stuck out like sore thumbs because (a) we were underdressed in our sweat shirts, and (b) everyone knows each other in a small town. Pastor Keith greeted us warmly even though we dressed like slugs. Others took the time to say hi as well, and a few noticed the crazy bike parked right in front.
Worship began with the organ playing, and we turned in our hymn books to an oldie but goodie. However, I prefer guitars, drums and a singing group to the oldies. Yet the words ring true. Once a month is old traditional, the other Sundays more contemporary. The faithful seems more gray and few children attend and leave halfway through for Sunday School.
Pastor K preached on Acts 14, that it ain't going to be all peaches and cream. Wonderful.
Moab seems like a hotbed of souls that could use a dose of faith. Yet the locals hang here, and it feels like they have deep roots, a good thing, but could use some new people. Certainly they need a good dose of younger folks.
Okay, off to the campsite, and QG is jonesing to sew. I rode to town and rented a mountain bike.
Moab is a mountain bike destination, and wow. Because I couldn't haul the bike, I pedaled to the trail head, up what the locals called, "a hill." Being from Vegas, it seemed like it shot up the side of a cliff, which it did. By the time I reached the trailhead I used half my water. Between then elevation (4,400 feet), the water and the heat, the slickrock ride only extended for a shade under 3 miles. But what riding! What scenic wonders! Miles of pink, red and beige rocks, outcroppings and canyons surrounded me. If you have mountain biked or have ever wanted to, this place is unbelievable.
Moab is a mountain bike destination, and wow. Because I couldn't haul the bike, I pedaled to the trail head, up what the locals called, "a hill." Being from Vegas, it seemed like it shot up the side of a cliff, which it did. By the time I reached the trailhead I used half my water. Between then elevation (4,400 feet), the water and the heat, the slickrock ride only extended for a shade under 3 miles. But what riding! What scenic wonders! Miles of pink, red and beige rocks, outcroppings and canyons surrounded me. If you have mountain biked or have ever wanted to, this place is unbelievable. Out of water and back to the trailhead (I'll skip the npart about almost passing out) I roocketed back to town and cruised through there a bit, with a fresh botle of cold aqua. Awesome ride!
Tomorrow we embark for Colorado.
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