There are a bunch of services on any given Sunday in my town. They are distinguished by all manner of rituals and types of music, as well as different kinds of dress and protocol. The one I go to most often is one that aims to be both informal and contemporary. I am the song leader every six weeks or so, and when there is Sunday School I participate. My twins have been helping light candles since they could walk, and often volunteer to be actors in the impromptu renditions of the story. It is a safe place to bring my special needs son and many of the people are precious to me. I enjoy other services as well but Contemporary is my home.

One Sunday John was preaching at another venue and I went to listen. Afterwards I scurried over to my usual congregation for a meeting which was scheduled after the close of the service. I was headed in the door just as someone else was walking out. 

"I knew I would not like this service. They don't even read from the Word. I'll never come again," she barked as we passed each other. 

I was out of breath and at a loss for words. Obviously I had not been in attendance that morning but usually I am and they most definitely read Scripture almost every week. But she was not interested. She had gone once and her opinion was set in stone. 

There was a girl I went to high school with who was not in my circle of friends. Sometimes we were in the same classes, or attended the same social events, but my experience of her was second hand at best. Recently I ran into her in a restaurant, and noticed the old judgments were still in place. I knew about her. 

Then I reflected on the fact that my sample was forty years old. Who was I to think they were still relevant? Milk gets sour in a week and canned fruit expires in a year. How could my interactions with her from the seventies have any bearing on the person she was now? 

The more I looked for instances of small samples constituting my entire viewpoint, the more I found them.

I went to a concert once, thirty years ago. I know that performer.

Her son was mean to my son last year. I can deprive her of my approval.

I ate there a few months ago. The food is mediocre. 

Perhaps one of the reasons God never gives up on us is that He keeps current on the possibility that every sunrise is a chance for change.