Several years ago when Wendell was doing his internship in a distant city, we made a lifetime decision from the opening tune of a television show. It was the eighties, and the show was about a bar. Not that spiritual. Yet, the catchy tune gripped our hearts with something eternal. We were tired and homesick and lonely. Flipping the channels one night, we heard the lyrics about going to a place where everybody knows your name. A place where folks are always glad you came.

And, suddenly, we knew we had to live that way. We had to rear our children in such a place. Not a bar (in case I’ve lost you already.) We wanted to live in a place where everybody is always glad we came AND where they are sober and in their right minds. A place where people have a common purpose bigger than our individual lives.

Within another year, we had managed to move “home.” We returned to the local church we had helped establish a few years before. Life was never perfect. Sometimes it was completely flawed — and sometimes we didn’t figure that out until decades later. But, it was a magnificent obsession, and we’ve never regretted the move.

Life changed, of course. Many of those original friends (including us) now live in different cities and even different nations. We don’t always do church exactly the same way anymore, and we probably differ on some points we once thought were absolute.

But, here is the thing. This week many of us will reconnect again at a church conference like we do almost every year. And I know when we walk in the door and see those faces, our hearts are going to leap. I’ll probably have a few happy-tears mixed up with a few sad ones for the faces that are missing or for the hard times we’ve all endured.

We will hug necks and slap backs and tease one another about the color of our hair or the lacking thereof. And, somewhere in the background, I’m sure I’ll hear the tinkle of a bar tune playing in my head.