At Saturday’s end, I set out our clothes and wrestled a busy mind to sleep.
Then came a Sunday that began with the stresses and messes of a restless heart.
In the wake of our week of diving deeper into the system, I needed to know that the God of angel armies is indeed by our side. That we are kept by His side. That a host of heaven’s mightiest angels stands even now at the brink of heaven, hands on the swords sheathed at their sides in eager anticipation of the coming moment when every injustice will be met with God‘s perfect justice. My soul needed confirmation of His promise that that moment is coming quickly and He will not leave us, His people, unready; that these growing pains are worth something good, worth that.
It was cold and dark, something I hadn’t noticed until noticing the sun wasn’t shining through the stained glass windows, a golden light I’ve drawn deep breaths of peace from in countless preceding morning moments of need.
But in that cool, dark stillness before the congregation trickled in, my friends and fellow warrior souls were singing, “I sought for the King and He heard me and delivered me from my lonely fears.”
Then we heard this sermon on Soli Deo Gloria (Glory to God Alone) and through it God Himself spoke into my soul saying, “Let there be light,” and there was light.
Then we collectively proclaimed through communion…
“There is strength within the sorrow. There is beauty in our tears and You meet us in our mourning with a love that casts out fear. You are working in our waiting; You’re sanctifying us when beyond our understanding You’re teaching us to trust. Your plans are still to prosper. You have not forgotten us. You’re with us in the fire and the flood. You’re faithful forever, perfect in love. You are sovereign over us.”
Focusing intently through tears on every measured word. Confirmation of God’s good promises a hundred times over.
This last morning serving on this particular team, the AV team, represented a hundred other no’s, no more’s and not now’s being given in turn for a glorious “yes.” For a season I won’t be serving in the ways I’ve grown accustomed to. My place is entirely new and came with various fears and mournings.
What an incredible comfort, though, to know that the One who has called me to be the hands and feet and heartbeat of His love for these children is not banishing us to lesser places, but drawing us into His presence, into His light to behold His glory. As a new single foster mom bearing the weight of each of those words individually and as their whole, my soul must cling to that truth moment by moment.
There is no security to be found in my acts of service, career or community of any kind; many blessings, yes, and many joys, but my security is found only in the One who is indeed Sovereign over us. My church gets that and the organic products of how we do life help me grasp that.
Sometimes seeking and finding the Lord means walking through the doors of this place just as I am to God just as He is. This place where He meets us. This place where there is an “us” to meet. This place where a collective of vagabond souls find rest in the steadfast preaching of His word, giving of ourselves and the goodness He’s blessed us with, declaring His praises and seeking hard after Him together.
If you attend church and church isn’t that, my prayer for you is that it will be.