I, and roughly the population of both Dakotas, attend North Point Community Church outside Atlanta. That means that after church gets out I don’t just enter the parking lot, I enter the terrordome. I might have a sermon fresh in my head, but I push pause on that for a few minutes so that I can do battle with the people I just worshiped with. It starts as soon as they say, “Have a good week” and dismiss us. We practically sprint to the back rooms to get our kids. Then we walk quickly to our car and start the grind. The thing that kills me is the people that volunteer for traffic duty as a “mission.” I don’t want someone directing traffic out of love and an eagerness to volunteer. I want a drill instructor with robot like efficiency guiding us out of the parking lot with an emergency vest and a belly full of Red Bull. Eventually, my swallowed curses for people in the parking lot got so bad I had to let my wife drive and sit in the back seat with my kids. I felt immature until I learned every husband in my small group did the same thing. Remember, there’s no such thing as a Christian in a church parking lot.
(Thanks go to L&P for the parking lot idea.)