We walk in to the church. 10 minutes late. Dead arms. Had to walk 1/4 mile holding coffee and a baby and the diaper bag. Each of us. Because they are two and we are two. Sweating. Nervously we scan the room. I locate my parents and slide into my chair nearly tossing the baby at my dad. I’m out of breath. I’m tired. I’m anxious. I look up at the song lyrics on the screen and my throat catches upon opening my mouth to sing. “…when He shall come with trumpet sound, oh may I then in Him be found…” Tears spring to my eyes. He has called me here today to say something to me. He has called me here today to speak a word into my heart about perseverance and faithfulness. The epic-ness of the moment I find myself in, is not lost on me. This church has been waiting 6 years to have the very service I have just stumbled into. 6 years. I get frustrated when I have to wait 6 minutes. 6 weeks. 6 months. And here they all are. Still standing. Still singing. Still trusting. Still believing. What have I ever waited 6 years for?

What have I ever waited 6 years for?

Jelly beans spill across the floor. I wipe up my coffee with a clean diaper on my hands and knees. I hesitate while I’m down here and lift up a quick word of gratitude because God has been faithful. Not just to me. Not just to this church. Not just to this town. He’s just been faithful. Through all time. Through all seasons. In every decade. In every century. He is the God who shows up. And I know that I am seen and loved and known, and that my poor pathetic effort will be honored. Is honored. We are invited to sing the closing song. You can stand or you can sit…it is a song I can’t sit for. Never have been able to. In Christ Alone. Again, tears. I stand holding my baby who had enough 55 minutes ago and is now just a weepy mess of tired and toddler. I sing right into her ear. Proclaiming a legacy I want to write on her heart for all time. Jesus. Loves. You. You belong. You are a child of an incredible God. A God who knows how many hairs are on your head. A God who holds every tear you’ve ever cried. You don’t belong to me. You belong to Him. I will keep showing up for you. My husband stands next to me and my mother next to him and we lift high our voices of praise, even though this is hard. Even though it hurts. Even though there is sweat dripping down our backs and jelly beans stuck to the bottoms of our shoes. In the words of my babies favorite movie right now, “we are broken, but still good. Yeah, still good.

“All other ground is sinking sand…”

I know this too well.

All other ground is sinking sand.

See you next week church.

Ps. You look really good. Perfectly imperfect and we love you.