the art of living in churches across the nation.

From Ben:

Living in churches is an incredible life style. I have come to find an immense amount of comfort within the brick walls of several unique churches in my life. 

The first church I ever lived in was in Hartville Ohio. New Life Christian Center and its 10 person  congregation housed me for the summer of 2005 while I acted as worship leader, janitor, and overall intern. I distinctly remember moving into the old nursery, creating shelves out of boxes and shimmying a large wooden desk to the corner of the room to serve as my dresser.  I slept on couch cushions that summer and lit candles to pretend that there were no mice. I lived in this church alone, me and the mice and ate Ramen noodles for many of my meals. The stove did not work, neither did the microwave, I did find a good outlet in the kitchen to plug in my hot pot so i could boil water. I spent nights laying on the top of my astro van staring at stars, reading Thoreau and Tolstoy. I began to be honest with my self that summer, I suppose you have to when you live alone in a large church that is over all never really very full. I spent my days working at the Hartville flea market and hiking Quail Hollow  state park. I like to think of that summer as the summer I learnt to think.    

Two summers went by before I lived in a church again, this time far from Ohio. I lived next in a Presbyterian church in Houma Louisiana, the church was our host church for YouthWorks that summer and I was serving as the site director. First Presby located in a very quaint part of town near the "downtown" area. We frequented, "The Scarlet Scoop", a local ice cream store between the church we spent our days and the episcopal school that we slept at. I think I tried every flavor. I spent many late nights at that church and that school, learning how to live, how to lead, how to function in the real world. I spent hours swinging on the swings behind the school and developing a relationship that would lead to marriage. There were no showers so we showered at the YMCA which I frequented no less then twice a week ( and no more the three times). 

The next summer I lived in a lutheran church in the center of downtown Minneapolis. This church brought with it by far the most character. It was a massive brick structure that once housed hundreds and hundreds of parishioners. The number had dwindled down below a hundred and the church felt like a vacant lot for a lot of the week. The large sanctuary uttered unique noises that offered no explanation what so ever. The noises simply were. We ate freezy pops by the arm load and fought off the fruit flies with all but nuclear warfare. I often crawled up to the roof of the building and scrambled to the peak of the roof so that I could overlook the downtown skyline for eye level. I wrote journal entries about humility and servitude, two concepts I had no chance at grasping. 

This brings me to today, this year I have become a "church hoper" of sorts. I leap between three churches and supervise how well three staff teams are living in their respective churches. It is truly a joy to watch staff teams embrace the same types of quirks and horrors that envelope living in a church as i did when i was in their shoes. All the brick, the bats, the squeaky elevators, the unique janitors. Living in a church is an art form and I am now a trainer. What an honor.