Sunday morning (was days ago, I know … it’s busy around here) I sat at the keyboard on stage at CITW and let my fingers follow the progression of chords the team was on as I looked around. PJ sat faithfully at his post behind the sound board watching and listening and bantering with Laura who is always faithfully somewhere but this morning was preparing overhead slides for worship. Laura – between the banter – sang along with Tami and Mike “…a thousand times I’ve failed, still Your mercy remains…”
Little Alexis pulled open the door just off the sound booth and half-drug Hannah inside the sanctuary, followed closely by Noah and Sammy. The kids obediently planted themselves on a short row of chairs off in the shadows and watched the team on stage. Sammy bounced in his seat and clapped surprisingly close to the beat for a three year old.
Bianca entered through another door, looking absolutely gorgeous and yet administrative as only a few strong women can do. Clipboard in hand, she was on a mission, but she took a deep breath and picked up the pre-chorus “…let justice and praise become my embrace, to love You from the inside out…” She handed something to Tami, commented on the business of the morning, and left through a third door.
The kids held down that row of chairs – though Sammy’s was still evidently resisting.
Then it was Bette, in through the same door as Bianca and apparently following suit. Her hip jacket and big sunglasses somehow complimented her motherly affection and prophetic wisdom, where in anyone else it would have been an offensive contradiction. She placed her purse on her seat and joined in “… my purpose remains the art of losing myself in bringing You praise …” She delivered a chord to a very grateful substitute guitarist and closed the sanctuary door behind her as the chorus crashed, “And the cry of my heart is to bring You praise. From the inside, out, Lord, my soul cries out…”
Tim walked in, and Sammy got off beat again, and I was completely overcome by Christ’s love for his Church. Not just me and my friends, and not my weak heart back to Him – Him and His bride and the love that started it all. This is what three years of ministry was for. He came and lived and died for my sins, but He gave everything He had to train up 12 guys at the same time and this is why.
I closed my eyes to keep from crying and quietly sang along, “… never-ending, Your glory goes beyond all fame …” Suddenly, my spirit resonated with a word, “Spring is coming,” and I knew it meant so much more than the snow melting and the feeling of sun on my skin again.
Spring is when gray is exchanged for color, hopelessness for joy. Spring is when we finally clean out cars and basements and cluttered places that have been sitting dorment and stuffy for far too long. It’s when driving, walking – moving – becomes a pleasure again, rather than a chore. It’s when the ice and snow that has plagued the surface finally melts and softens the hard soil beneath. Spring is when seed starts to sprout and life emerges in places we’d forgotten about.
Relief washed over me and seemed to ease a burden I didn’t even know was there. There is a breakthrough, a release, a new level, whatever you want to call it … I’m sticking with “spring,” coming – and soon.
