A Sacred Afternoon

I didn’t know how I could see a lifetime of people I loved while my feet were so briefly on American soil. I was in my hometown, but my kids’ needs trumped my desires for connection, reunion and alllllll the things. A few very dear friends and my cousins helped me put together a dream God put in my heart when I began planning this trip. It only took a few text messages in transit. They orchestrated the details, created an invitation, and made the snacks. People from every chapter of my story gathered in one room, in the church that taught me about the Church, for a couple of sacred hours.

It was too short. It was just right. It was everything.

My mom loved sacrificially, as usual, and stayed with the boys so I could be undistracted. I had a chance to share with a room full of dearly loved ones how much they had impacted me. Our crossed paths are extending to the ends of the earth now. I learned about the Church, friendship, family, community and generosity from them. They shaped what flows out of me. We shape each other.

We may never know how much the small things, passing relationships, open hands, or the youth group trips matter in a small town, big city, urban slum or rural village. We can’t predict the generational impact of the private prayers of our parents, teachers, or friends. It was an extraordinary privilege to be able to tell my story on that Sunday afternoon, excavating the evidence of sacred lives lived. My prayer is that each one of us would know how much our lives matter, how far and wide love can extend. The ends of the earth are easy to reach with the free, unlimited love of Christ.

Thank you for being a part of my story.