There are days.
Oof, there are days.
Days that I struggle hard with issues … wrestle with questions … grieve over wrongs. *oh God, why? … HOW? … how LONG?*
Days that I return to prayer, over and over again, asking God for wisdom, for strength, for guidance. Sometimes there is a hint of desperation. *Holy Spirit, shape me*
Days that I intentionally recall God’s love for me, and choose to place *that* as my foundation, my identity … again. *deep breath*
But Sundays? Sundays are good days. A boatload of work, for sure. Yesterday, before anyone else arrived, I was dragging away oversized garbage that someone dumped at our building, in the snow. Yesterday, I lugged a double-recipe of crock-pot chili from home, hoping it wouldn’t spill in the car. Yesterday, I found out that on the coldest weekend of the year, one of our heating units died.
Nevertheless.
Sundays are the days that remind me why I love to pastor.
Yesterday as our church gathered together:
➡️ a child asked a really smart question, and I watched an adult stop to give her a thoughtful answer
➡️ two other kids joined in with “adult” prayers, as a matter of course
➡️ someone told me their legit, just-this-week story of physical healing
➡️ someone else trusted me enough to tell me they’re not ok right now, but they’re here
➡️ we all heard a legit story of ongoing, years-long faith
➡️ a group of seniors - several who would be otherwise isolated - claimed the couches at one end of the lobby, laughing and waving me away when I called them troublemakers
➡️ we shared communion, worshipped with simple songs, read Scripture, listened to teaching
➡️ some of us stayed to talk about it after; others stayed to sip hot chocolate and chat
➡️ my new small group talked about hospitality over bowls of chili (which did not spill in the car)
➡️ as we cleaned up and headed out, another church arrived and started setting up in one building
➡️ as I left the parking lot, young adults started arriving for their afternoon meet-up in the other building
And now it’s Monday.
And the quote for the heating unit is enormous. And there is more work to do than I can fit in the days of the week. And all the issues are still there.
There will surely be moments of struggling, wrestling, grieving, praying.
But I have been encouraged and strengthened by the gathering of my church family. My faith is deeply personal - but it’s also fully entwined with other followers of Jesus.
And for that, I am grateful.
I think too often it's easy to under underestimate the value of community and all that it means. Love this post!