A little over 14 years ago now, I loaded up my small little white house that sat along interstate 30 in Benton, Arkansas and prepared to move to Tennessee.
Lebanon, that is.
In my 24 years that 6 months stretch of time in that Jim Walter house. was the longest I had been away from home.
I lived in the same house the first 24 years of my life.
I was going to go to Freed-Hardeman for college but backed out at the last minute. (Good move.)
Forced out of a whole lot of options due to the last minute change of heart, I stayed at the old home town university–the University of Arkansas at Little Rock.
There I secured my degree, broke into youth ministry and finally secured my first “real” job post-matriculation.
That morning crossing the Arkansas river bridge that divided Arkansas and Tennessee I couldn’t help but being overwhelmed with excitement for what lay ahead. I was going to dedicate my life ministering to teens.
My parents brought the U-Haul, we unloaded and set up house.
The next day my parents left.
And I was alone.
I was overwhelmed with the thought of “What now? What do I do?”
All I really knew was that somehow the next day I was to go into my office and start doing what I had trained and prepared for.
But, honestly, I was lost. All I could do was pray for wisdom and jump in.
Those initial days were marked by fits and starts.
I was arrogant thinking that I knew everything. I was the one who knew about teenagers, not out of touch parents.
I was immature with little to distinguish between my antics and that of the teens who had been entrusted in my care.
It wasn’t long before there was a small group of parents who wanted me out.
And they were right.
But my elders were patient with me. They knew that part of their job was to help me grow up and into the ministry that God had called me to.
I couldn’t help but go back to those days as I was reading the book of Acts this week. Jesus incarnate was no longer among them.
This ragtag bunch of followers were left to somewhat figure out where to go from there. Those 10 days between the ascension and outpouring had to be fraught with questioning and speculating about what they future held for them.
When the Spirit finally did arrive (2:4) they began a ministry that would change the world.
But it was not always easy.
They were still given to immaturity and failures.
They struggled with the thought of the message going to Gentiles.
They wrestled with the implications of proper Christian service.
They fought and divided (See Paul and John Mark)
Surely there were dark and lonely days.

But this is sure: Christ is made manifest in the book of Acts by the faithful witness of His followers.
Were they perfect? Not even close.
But they were faithful and sincere.
Christ is modeled in Acts through the discipleship of common, every-day believers. They wrestled, they struggled and they failed.
But through the transforming power of the Spirit they changed the world.
That is the call of discipleship–to be missional and transformative.
To be in community and fellowship with one another.
To break bread.
To give out of our abundance for the general good of all.

Acts opens with the risen and victorious Lord ascending into Heaven, leaving His followers behind.
Acts continues with the risen and victorious Lord appearing time and time again through the faithful witness of fallen people.
Like me.
And you.