Ryanne Molinari

Our basement is weird. Even weirder than the typical Midwestern basement. In one room, a pulpit faces a window looking out on an enormous oak tree. Squirrels dart to and fro as my husband preaches to their twitchy noses and (perhaps after frightening them with difficult theological truth) their bushy tails.

Down the hallway lies my “organ room.” This sounds terrifying, but it’s actually a bright teal room with a lopsided wall, flowing white curtains, and a cozy reading chair. The centerpiece of the room is a digital organ. I spend my mornings practicing in the “organ room” while my husband spends many evenings preaching in the “pulpit room.”

Today it struck me that the squirrels are the only ones that witness both of us using our gifts in the same place, together.

I spend my days driving back and forth between the church where I am the director of traditional worship and the church where my husband is the associate pastor. My weeks often look like this:

• Monday: Young Adult Life Group for PBC or Other Commitment
• Tuesday: Prayer Meeting at PBC
• Wednesday: Service and Choir Practice at BLC
• Thursday: Morning Service at BLC and Life Group or Bible Study for PBC
• Friday: Blessed rest at home, on a good week
• Saturday: Practice for BLC at home in the morning while Billy practices for PBC at home in the evening
• Sunday: Play for BLC then zip across town to attend PBC

Saturdays are for the squirrels. Those critters get a morning of hymns and songs and spiritual songs, followed by an evening of expository preaching. I do believe we have the most sanctified squirrels in the state living in our yard.

I look hopefully to a time when my husband and I will use our gifts together before people, not rodents and the stray cats that follow them. But, for now, at least we get to use our gifts under the same roof of our home, even if our shared congregation is made up of woodland creatures.