Today is a little different—rather than sharing from one of my favorite Lent devotional books, I will be sharing what I fondly call a tweetstorm. This one is courtesy of Sarah Bessey.
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If you would’ve told me 10 years ago I’d be a straight-up devoted church lady, I’d have laughed in your face.
I was emancipated from church – who needs church? Apparently I did and I do and I always will. Look at all the ways God will surprise us.
One of the most important and doggedly hopeful things we have done as a family is to intentionally, simply, steadily stay put with our church.
Community is not the work of magicians or salesmen or brand ambassadors or performers or instant-wish-granters.
Community is like gardening: you prepare, you plant, you tend, you wait, you weed, you wait, you feed, you harvest and…
…you cycle through seasons of rich reward and seasons of seeming emptiness, seasons of work and waiting.
Simone Weil said, “To be rooted is perhaps the most important and the least recognized need of the human soul.”
We experience on a daily basis what it means to be known by, committed to, invested in, prayerful for, intentional towards our local church.
It’s one of the best and hardest and most meaningful aspects of our life.
Community takes so much time and intentionality: there isn’t anything instant about it. Small conversations to get to the big conversations.
There is a reciprocity to true church community, a giving and a receiving that mirrors something holy in the daily rhythms of our lives.
It’s so ordinary we overlook it until we find how much power and glory is hiding in friendship. The Holy Spirit knits unlikely hearts.
It isn’t perfect, people never are. There are hurts. There are imperfections. There are frustrations. Missteps. Big problems sometimes.
But staying with our church, being seen and seeing them, has been one of the most life-changing spiritual disciplines of our past decade.
Today, I guess I’m feeling incredibly grateful for our church and for our people today. It took us time—more than I expected—to get here.
They love us well. I hope they can say the same about us most days. Online things are good and I’m deeply grateful for online community too.
Something holy about people witnessing our highs and our lows, praying for us and being prayed for by us, forgiving us and being forgiven by us.
It’s a good dance, is what I’m saying. Church is worth it. Always worth it. It’s hard and good altogether.