Church at the Lab

Yesterday a group of precious teen girls and I commiserated about the difficulty of sharing our faith with a world that is easily offended. “I don’t really talk about my faith with my friends at school. I just don’t know how.” One by one, each girl confessed their struggle to share God outside of the church. I, being 30 years older than most of the girls, agreed. It’s a challenge in a world so consumed with the possibility of offending someone.

Walking into the lab this morning, I saw the room filled with people such as myself. Some did not appear ill and others visibly weakened by whatever ailment they had. But, even those who looked healthy, had a story. They were at the lab so a doctor or a team of doctors could meticulously check their blood for any abnormalities. Each person was either entering a trial, in the middle of one, or possibly just coming out of one.

And, right there in that dark lab, God planted one of His saints. God opened my ears to a man who’s vocabulary only included his faith.

“I see a miracle happening here!”

“God’s doing something in you.”

“I think He’s healing you.”

“Oh, it’s going to be good.”

In the cold, sterile, underground lab, I attended church. Along with about 50 other  patients and lab technicians, we heard and saw faith lived out.

business glove health healthcare
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I didn’t receive a church bulletin. But I was definitely welcomed.

There was no group prayer. But prayers were being uttered.

No worship songs were sung. But worship was heard.

No Bible to be seen. But God’s word was being shared.

We were in the Lords house. Simply because one saint chose to live out his faith with every breath, every word spoken, every interaction he faced.

He didn’t speak anything profound or even planned. Yet it was purposeful and prophetic.

He simply included his faith in his everyday life. His faith was his life and there was no hanging it up at the door upon entering his workplace.

I thank God for showing me this saint in the middle of the bleak weariness of the lab. I thank God for the practical example of living out faith.

“Be doers of the word and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves.” James 1: 22

Letter to my Child’s Sunday School Teacher

Dear Sunday School Teacher,

You know my child, the one who sits when you ask her to stand.
The one who laughs whenever you say the word, “bottom”.
The one who is loud when instructed to be quiet.
The one who never remembers the Bible verse.
The one who turns her head every time someone moves a muscle.
The one who becomes frustrated when asked to read aloud or write in a small space.
The one who still brings a stuffed animal with her for comfort.
The one who says, “I don’t know,” when asked what she learned that day.

You know my child, the one who knows your heart.
The one who prays for you when you are sick.
The one who knows your cat’s name.
The one who remembers your kindness towards her.
The one who tries your patience.
The one who can tell what kind of day you are having.
The one who melts with your praise.

Oh, dearest Sunday school teacher. Your job may feel fruitless when my daughter never completes your projects. Your job may seem futile when she doesn’t mememorize the Bible verse. You may feel as though your time is wasted when she isn’t on the right page during the Bible reading time.

But, oh, dear Sunday school teacher, it’s your heart she seeks. Will you accept her as she is? Will you love her as Christ loves you? Will you show compassion so the kids in class will know the compassion God has for them?

Dearest Sunday school teacher, my daughter may never remember the lesson from the day, but she will always remember your love.

Sincerely,

A Mother Who Loves Fiercely
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