For the last year and a half, I've not spoken to a group of women about the Word.
(And that's my passion.)
For the past 11 months, I've not taught a Sunday School class.
For the past two Sundays, I've not attended the church where we've worshipped for eight years because we believe, for a host of reasons, that it was time to leave.
(May I mention here that this has never-like, ever-happened to us?
We've never left a congregation unless we've also left the town.)
So this Sunday, at another church, listening to people I don't know leading worship,
I realized that it would be a long time, if ever, that I had the privilege to do that again either.
We sang a song about the cost of following.
I'm surrendering my all; I surrender to the King.
I thought, I've surrendered everything I am in the church.
Then He spoke,
in the swift and sure way that He will.
that all is given away-
who I really am:
In the church (little c), I am without a place,
but in the Church (big C),
I am who Christ paid for me to be,
and I rest secure there because He promised.
Let the sons and the daughters sing.