Tag Archives: tears

I got this

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Last weekend our church opened the doors on a new building.  While husband and I have only been around for a few months, the church has been mobile for over six years.  The church started in a home and later moved to the gym of an elementary school.  Everything about the sanctuary was put up and taken down each week.  Now we have a home.

There was a prayer and worship service on Saturday night before our first official Sunday morning.  It was a time of thankfulness of all that God has done in this body of believers in just a few short years.

I cried buckets of tears on Saturday night.  The first tear fell during the first song, and the last tear was wiped away as I walked out of the building.  I’m not totally sure what all the tears were about, but I do know I heard a whisper in my spirit.

I got this.

What’s my role, what do You want me to do? – I’ll lead and guide you, I got this.

What about __?  I’m worried about her. – Don’t worry, I got this.

Over and over again, I offered my worries, my fears, my jumbled thoughts to God.

Over and over and over again, He whispered back.  Don’t worry.  Don’t be afraid.  I got this.

The next morning was our first service.  The parking lot was full fifteen minutes before service started.  Seats started to fill, then chairs were added and finally it was standing room only.  A celebratory mood filled the room, any tears shed were tears of joy.

Dr. Walker spoke on John 6, the passage where Christ feeds the five thousand.  Dr. Walker talked about the three responses to Christ wanting to feed the people

It can’t be done.

We have some, but not enough.

A boy who offered his lunch.

When the boy offered his lunch, he gave it to Christ and left the results up to God.  The boy didn’t worry if it could be done, or if his offering was enough.  He simply gave what he had and left the rest up to God.

I got this.

I know these two things are connected.  I have to give up my need for control and submit to Him.  I only have to offer what I have, my time, my talents, my treasure and allow God to do with it what He wills.

Love You More

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Hispanic woman holding large, woven heart

It’s a thing I send to my best girlfriends when we’re texting and have to say goodbye.  “Love you.”  “Love you more.”

I say this to my mom or my sister when we’re ending a phone conversation.  “Love you.”  “Love you more.”

So when the words came out of his mouth, it brought immediate tears to my eyes.

“Have a great week pastor, love you.”

“Love you more.”

Three small words.  Three small words which crumbled my heart into a happy bit of rubble.

My pastor loves me.

Really, this shouldn’t be such a big deal.  A pastor is supposed to care about the people in his church.  A pastor is supposed to teach, lead and guide.  A pastor has many ‘things’ to do in the life of a church.  And a pastor should love the people in his church, unfortunately many don’t.

Then my pastor said “Love you more”.

I wrote awhile ago how we had started the search for a new church.  We had visited a few churches in the area, but nothing seemed to stick.  So when husband said we should check out the church down the street, I figured the same thing would happen again.

We’ve only missed a handful of Sunday’s in the past six months.

We walked in and found a place where ‘real’ness and sincerity met.  We walked in and found a place where safeness is a goal.  We walked in and found a place where it’s OK to be broken and healing.  We walked into a family, we walked into a home.

And it freaked me out.

Terror filled my spirit.  Fear of the unknown.  Fear of being hurt again.  Fear of being disappointed.  I wanted to run away, the risk seemed too great.

But each week, I return.

Leaders are showing themselves to have integrity.  Teaching is deep and challenging and biblical.  The people are sincere and willing to come along side and walk life’s journey together.

Each confirmation, each step forward causes me to shed tears.  Tears of freedom.  Tears of healing.  Tears washing away the stain of hurt and bitterness.  Tears that drip down my face and chin, leaving their trails on the front of my dress.  Tears which are breaking down the wall I built for protection.

My pastor said, “Love you more.”