Shoulder Shaking Grace

My husband steps off the stage in the sanctuary and I see his shoulders drop as the tension lifts. He feels lighter now but the body sags a bit after carrying such a heavy load. All wrapped up in one moment we must share our passion for the people of Spain, express how desperately Spain needs the Gospel, and facilitate true, appropriate worship of the Father on His day. Jesus upholds the universe by the word of His power and we want to uphold that Word in each church.

Exhorting, encouraging God's people with the truth that Jesus paid it all... sometimes we stumble without even knowing.

But my Father in Heaven doesn't make mistakes, doesn't waste mistakes. How do we bear witness to God's call on our lives? We tell the good things He has done. And so my husband, by way of introduction, before He opens up the Word, opens up our hearts and tells the congregation where I'm from.

I'm from brokenness, from addiction, from mental illness. I'm from second chances and do-overs and parents who thought they were finished with the little years. I'm from grandparents, he reminds them.

And after we've shown them a glimpse (a mere shadow!) of the faces of Spain, of the need there and how God might in His grace use us there, and after he's preached a humble word from God, we greet real people who came seeking the Lord.

Did they find Him? Oh, Father, what a shadow we cast on Your ministry!

One of these hungry people meets me at the door to the sanctuary and she grabs my shoulders and squeezes and shakes a little and she puts her face up to mine and breathes it out, a release: "I am raising my grandson and I thought I was done and he has your life exactly and it. is. hard."

Linking up for the first time with Just Write, an exercise in free writing your ordinary and extraordinary moments. {Please see the details here.}