wrecked

As I stood in the mirror getting ready that morning I quietly whispered as I began to pull my hair back with a clip, "Jesus, just show me your glory..... I don't understand, but I will choose to trust you. I have a horrible attitude, its far too early and I don't feel well.... but Jesus, just show me you are here, in this city, these people..."

Fact is, I cry. Sappy movies, talking about Jesus, weddings, beautiful conversations with friends and yes, I am very okay with the fact I cry a lot. This was not some vulnerable moment, or a time with many around who needed to cry alongside. It was really one of the loudest and most chaotic places of the church- early childhood.

An older African American man and white women dropped the boy off. The child immediately began to build a gun out of legos and run around the room screaming, quickly exampling is leadership for all to follow. As I calmed the chaos I looked at him, the ring leader, holding his head and said firmly, with the 'teacher eyeballs' my mother always gave me, popping out of my head "I will call for your mom and dad if you do not stop with the wild behavior..." Immediately the boy jumped up off the ground and began to run again screaming at the top of his lungs "I don't have a mom or dad....my dad is dead, and my mom ran away."

My world stopped. Done. Tears filled my eyes. Children ran more and screaming increased. I sat there in the midst of what seemed like an eternity. It was as though someone ripped out my heart several times and all became dark. His glory was there. In a three year old whose story is more broken that I could even dare to dream. His glory was there, in that room. The gospel was dripping out of that boys mouth, a broken, utter cry for a father.

His glory was there, in the midst of rain in my eyes, my soul was split in two like the red sea and truth poured in.... I will never leave you; I am a refuge for the oppressed; my covenant with Noah, Abraham, the Israelites and David's kingdom all stand true; the holy spirit, a great counselor was sent for your aid; you are forgiven and all debt removed; Jesus has come so you may be reconciled back to me; you are my joy; you are loved; delivered out of darkness; I can do the impossible; peace is yours; I will return; an end to all death, sorrow and pain is coming.

Otherwise a typical Sunday morning, it is in those seemingly endless moments I am being renewed, another layer peeled back. His glory, His understanding, His purpose, His truth, His grace and His beauty from ashes surrounded and my heart so broken, yet so full.