I visited a small church gathering last night and listened as a beautiful young woman sang a song that touched my heart—a song inspired by a poem I had written.  I stood up (by invitation)  and read the blog I had posted on Sunday morning.  I felt at home, surrounded by family (though I knew only one other person there) and completely accepted. 

Church.  That word means many different things to different folks.  Some people are authentically joyful when they think of the place they go to worship. Some may smile as nostalgia wraps them in warm arms of the past.  Others cringe, thinking of authoritarian church leaders who did their best to shame them into submission to a “loving” God.

The God I serve is loving, and I enjoy gathering  with fellow-believers to worship Him.  It is, however,  an unfortunate fact that the organized church is merely reflective of its members, who—like the rest of society—are flawed individuals, fallen beings who far too often fail to love well. 

I hope that those who have been disappointed by the institution we call church, will find healing for their wounded hearts and learn to forgive their brothers and sisters who have let them down.  More than anything, I ask you, our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, to pour the antiseptic of your grace into the abrasions on their hearts and unify your body once again.