“Look what I did!”
He displays that slightly rumpled blue ribbon proudly.
“I won first place!”
His speech is slurred most of the time and Husband praises him for winning fourth place. To which he sticks the ribbon in his face.
He is a 5 foot 2 bundle of joy. We will call him C. He loves our “chowch” and his dedication and excitement aimed at our body of believers convicts me every time we walk through those heavy doors into the grand mountainous foyer.
We walk into that beautiful place every Sunday with our coffee, water bottles and violins in tow. We are weary but peaceful. (That’s the beauty of being newlyweds, no little ones to invade that peacefulnessJ)
Every time I walk into that place I am ready to be filled and perfectly present of mind and totally in touch with my God. If only that was the truth. Our hearts are plagued by this incessant sinfulness, this battle that waged in our home just 12 hours ago because I am convinced that hanging up pants is solely Husband’s job. We walk in those doors and get right to work. Staggering through Handel’s Messiah, singing past coffee coated throats, smiling at the right times and saying the right things in order to cover the unrest in our souls and the pain in our muscles.
C also often comes to our Wednesday night Bible Study. I love that time of intimacy and laughter. Praying over burdens and working through complicated passages. Coffee and snuggles with little ones. Sometimes photo albums and haircuts happen on these nights too. When C gets ready to pray he sighs heavy and loud and the first prayer of his heart is usually for the Broncos to win their next game closely followed by a request for God to bless his non-existent wife.
This time. This time his next request pricked my heart.
“Dear Lord, thank you my Dad come to church. God heal his heart…”
God heal his heart.
C gets it.
I wish I got it like C gets it.
Isn’t that what we really need when we enter our various places of worship? We are in desperate need of God to heal our hearts. To repair the damage to our most vital organ that the disease of disbelief has caused.
Lord heal our hearts.