It's 10:30pm and I'm home. A busy day and then night, but fruitful.
Hearts shared, torn parts partly bared then quickly covered back up again by a laugh.
Yet trust grows, inch by tender inch, friendships form, meld, pull back again and test, then reach forth, tentatively to connect.
It's what we all yearn for isn't it?
Safe relationships, a place where hearts can come out from coverings and find a haven. A place where judgements are laid aside, where forgiveness is plentiful and eyes seek to know the beauty that lies within.
It's a place where truth is known and lies are exposed, where confession is welcome and grace is a river.
Isn't this church? Not a building, but a community, a gathering where hope is present, hope that something greater than the past exists, that redemption awaits and is available to all who will come asking, or maybe just come to see.
I know Jesus is there, in all of our meeting places, patient, reaching out with those nail marred hands to minister, to love, to cradle and recreate what has been so scarred by unbelievable, selfish choices.
He is the Light
He is the Life
And I'm so grateful
That He comes
And that He loves us
That He mends us
Takes the time
And makes all new.
He is gentle
He is kindness
Let us learn
As He is present
He completes us
Lord we give it
All to You.