What's Not Missing

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-

except

who I really am:

Beloved Daughter.

In the church (little c), I am without a place,

but in the Church (big C),

the Body,

the Kingdom,

I am who Christ paid for me  to be,

and I rest secure there because He promised. 

Let the sons and the daughters sing.