I can’t recall all the texts, emails and cards I’ve gotten at this point. Last night I enjoyed a time of fellowship with a sweet family who opened their home for a barbecue. Today, three different people invited Chris and I to dine. My spirit got a boost through several hugs, including a powerful, bear-like one from a man who’s like a grandfather to me.
This is church, ya’ll. This is the family of God.
My pastor has said (more than once) that we’re one strange group, that we’re kinda dysfunctional. He’s right. We get on each other’s nerves. Personalities clash. Miscommunication happens. Feelings get hurt. But when we need each other, whether its meals, help with housework, transportation, encouragement or any other number of things, we come together. We try. We reach out to each other.
I’ve been burned by the people of God more than once, and there are many times when I’m tempted to chuck the whole thing and get all moody and loner-ish. But then someone asks me how I’m doing, and she actually cares. She really wants to know. Or my pastor tells me that he’s praying for me daily. Or I get fist-bump (with exploding firework action) from one of the kids.
And I want to stay.
To read all the posts in The Detox Diaries series, go here.