This morning came early. It’s Sunday, though, and a shower isn’t optional. Neither is a bath for a baby who spent several hours crawling around a new restaurant floor last night.
So I’m up. Coffee brewed. Two little girls chatting and cooing and just sitting. Bethel worship playing softly on this rainy morning.
Sunday is our pause. There are mountains to move and heaps of work seem to bury us, but we stop and rest and remember that He is our provider and source and everything. Our bodies need a slow morning, but our souls do, too.
He is our rest in the midst, though, too. We are called to work, I tell my boys. Our strength and creativity and intellect were given so we could build. The What is up to Him, and we joyfully serve as foundation layers, wall erectors, finished carpenters — joyful and faithful is our job, the grand plan is His.
Dad’s sermon last Sunday (8/24, keep your eye out for it on cfconline.org) was fabulous. Jesus declared the gospel — the good news of God reconciling men to Himself — and then He healed their bodies and minds. He didn’t say, “See ya in heaven.” He said, through word and deed, “I came to restore your life.” And so we experience the restoration ourselves, but then we live it to the world. We care for people, we give our lives to seeing souls and minds and bodies redeemed. Living the gospel is incredibly holistic and we are all called to say, through word and deed, Jesus can restore.
And so our work is not just work. It is laying life down to see the Kingdom of heaven come.
I don’t know exactly what God is building through our little contribution at this time in history, in this spot on the globe. But I am incredibly blessed to work hard in the family field, alongside my husband, knowing that my work is helping to build him. I love this guy.