We visited a small church about 30 minutes away today--Christ in Lorain. The people were friendly, the sermon was wonderful, and it was good for us to be there. What touched me the most about the service, though, was watching the kids. At the beginning of the service, I watched as a boy, probably 8 or 9, recited the confession from memory. He participated in the entire service and knew exactly what to do. Three little girls in front of us helped each other sing the hymns, taking turns pointing to the words. The acolyte couldn't have been more than 8 and did a spectacular job. It was particularly precious to notice that the alb had a big paper clip holding it up in back. They showed me the way to joy and delight this morning. And I was reminded that in this mean time, in which we are, God is with us. It was a great service. Truth was spoken, proclaimed, witnessed, and ingested.
After worship, we drove up to the lakeshore so Flat Stanley could 'see' Lake Erie. It was cold and windy, but I'm always amazed by the ice formations on the great lakes. The rocky shore was covered in rough, white ice. It was actually quite beautiful.
I was reflecting today on how we tell the story of our faith, after a conversation about the Holy Week with a Jewish friend. Incarnation is important for me as I seek to express my beliefs and faith. I see God's work play out in many ways and this has been a good exercise for being more intentional about keeping an eye out for those embodied moments of love, grace, wonder, and awe.
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