Faith Full

By Jonan Keeny

Post-pandemic, once our family returned to in-person church, our nine year-old Wyatt inquired as to how my wife and I know God exists. For simplicity’s sake, I opted to paraphrase Stephen King’s “Pet Sematary.” That is, rather than using God as the example, I asked Wyatt if he thought the chair he was sitting in would be there the next day. He agreed that it would be. When I gently pressed him, he admitted that he couldn’t be 100% certain the chair would definitely be there, but it probably would be. He had faith in something of which he could not be absolutely sure. And that particular conversation got me thinking about my own faith journey…

I got older (this Peter Pan is still going strong, though, I assure you) in northeastern Pennsylvania, with countless influences from within the community. Many of those influences were members of the congregation of Wesley United Methodist Church in Nescopeck, Pennsylvania. (‘Sup, NEPA peeps?!?!) My parents were pretty adamant about me participating in church on the regular, so I did the whole confirmation deal and became a member and whatnot, participated in youth group and such. I even sang in the kids’ choir and as a soloist from time to time. I did “all the things,” you might say. But then I graduated high school.

The new-found freedom that college, and then graduate school, provided was…so many things. Enlightening. Turbulent. Exhilarating. Depressing. Fascinating. There was a lot to explore both inside and outside of the classroom, and explore I did. (Perhaps a better word would be “rebel,” but let’s stick with “explore.”) Let me just say this: If it could be dabbled in, I most likely dabbled in it. Enough said? I believe so.

Fast-forward a few years to an older me. Wiser? Maybe. Still motivated by many things far outside anything related to any form of spirituality? You bet. And then it happened. The accident. Later that fateful accident day, I was contacted by a number of people working in official capacities, and each of them asked some variation of the same question after seeing my car or photos of it: “Which hospital are you in?” But…I had essentially walked away. I spent a few hours in the hospital, and then I went home. Over the next six months, during which I spent a couple of hours every weekday morning, as well as many Saturday mornings, in physical therapy, I had a lot to ponder. According to a number of medical professionals, I was fortunate to be alive. So ponder I did.

A few years later, I spent most of a beautiful morning watching a heron at Black Rock Lake. This majestic bird waded in the water slowly, gracefully, patiently. I was mesmerized as the creature took its time, wading and waiting, waiting and wading. Eventually, the heron got what it was after. And I thought to myself, “Is that not exactly how God has been toward me? No matter where I have gone, no matter what I have done, no matter how many times I have turned away, God has been waiting. Patiently.” That morning was a turning point for me.

So let’s go back to where I began…and then let’s back up just a little bit more…During the stay-at-home order, many, many things were affected, and in-person worship was no exception. Fortunately, our family was able to watch services from where we still considered our home church at the time, and we found Clayton United Methodist Church to be very enjoyable as well. As restrictions relaxed, I got to thinking about how things might proceed, particularly in the area of worship. Was it not incredibly easy to sit in our PJs on the couch and watch a church service online? And with various employers, schools, etc. moving to hybrid methods of re-opening, I wondered how churches would respond. The more the wheels in my mind kept turning, the more I hoped that churches would embrace the fact that individuals can be reached through atypical means. In fact, for many people, that might be the only way they can be reached by a church. And thus, my quest began: Find a church that was looking for an individual who was interested in helping them reach more people via digital means. And, much to my surprise, I found one! I have been the Communications Specialist at First Presbyterian Church of Highlands for about a year and a half. And while it isn’t always what I envisioned, it is typically quite rewarding. I work with awesome people for an awesome congregation for an awesome purpose: To keep reaching those who don’t yet know and feel and have faith in the unconditional love of Jesus Christ and to shepherd those who already do. And while I have more daily failures as a Christian than I have successes, my cup runneth over. Tattoos, skate shoes, unorthodox hair, and all the rest, I am faith full.

Jonan Keeny was born in Topeka, Kansas, he got older in Berwick, Pennsylvania, and then he lived a bunch of other awesome places. A lifelong learner and a full-time dreamer, the prospect of grand new adventures frequently gets him out of bed in the middle of the night. His passion for photography keeps him busy at First Presbyterian Church of Highlands, as well as in the woods, at random sites on the side of the road, and countless other places. When he isn’t wrangling his two little boys, or spending time at the “Imagination Rock” with them, he’s likely hanging out with his wife, Mary Lauren, reading a book about something new, or dreaming of life’s next adventure and Walt Disney World. Regardless of the activity, he’s probably participating in it while sporting funky socks and a fresh lid. You can check out his photography at www.myworldpics.com. Feel free to hit him up on the socials, too.