Several years ago, I stood at the back of the church after service as my husband finished preaching. The presence of the Lord was sweet and tangible. Many families had already left, but a few people lingered.
One of the benefits of being a pastor is that you know the behind-the-scenes stories of the members and their families who attend your church. One of these members sat alone in her row … weeping softly, her face buried in her hands.
As I shared some thoughts with a friend through a series of emails, this moment stuck out to me the most in our discussions about how to communicate and make a difference with those who we love and care about. The following rose up in my spirit and I’d like to share it with you here, as well as a few additional thoughts I’ve had for quite some time now …