Witness Through Trials.
The line was long and didn't seem to move. I looked toward the front and didn't see any unusual hold up, I guess the door must have been delayed in opening. That's okay, it gave me a moment to reflect on the service.
I had lain in bed this morning after my husband left for his church and thought I'd just take the easy way today and go to church online. I had been up until 2:30 in the morning. Sometimes I can't sleep because my body betrays me with endometriosis pain. Other times I don't want to sleep because I feel "normal" and I want to embrace every moment of normalcy. Last night was the latter and I was grateful.
As I laid there, reveling in the feel of the sheets against me, nice and warm from a few hours of blessed sleep, something called me to get out of bed. "If you get up, you can still make it to church by 8:45 AM, enough time to get a decent seat." This church is so huge, the sanctuary fills up quickly if I don't get there by 8:30 AM. I looked at the clock, 8:11. "Every moment you wait, less of a chance to go." Filled with purpose, I got up, dressed and left within 20 minutes. As I shut the door behind me I prayed, "Lord, please, let me be a blessing to someone there today."
I couldn't get to church quick enough, I felt such a sense of inexplicable urgency. Impatient with the stop lights along the way, pulling into the parking lot, finding a spot and walking quickly inside, I spotted a seat in the third row. The lady next to the empty seat I spotted patted the seat and welcomed me by saying, "This seat isn't taken, sit here!" We started talking and I learned that she was recently divorced after 23 years. She inquired as to my status and I shared I was recently married. She said, "Oh..." and uncomfortably withdrew into herself, obviously not wanting to mar my happiness as a newlywed with her sadness. "It's okay. I understand. I'm previously divorced myself from a mentally abusive man. But the road of healing with God at the helm has enabled me to love again, and my husband now is helping me heal even more. The healing never stops." Again, she replied, "Oh..." only this time she reached out her hand and began to share her story, her faith, her love for the God who was helping her through it. In some ways, her story was eerily similar to mine, similar to every person who goes through a divorce. A divorce bears no winners, only survivors.
The line started moving again. I got midway to the door and noticed the lady who sang the final song of the service was standing there greeting people as they left. "How odd." I thought. Then I noticed a man standing on the other side of the aisle, actually two men. The one man was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, a blue one, remarkably like the one the Senior Pastor had been wearing during the... dude! That is the Senior Pastor, Rick Warren. And he's shaking people's hands as they leave.
I thought about walking past him, not wanting to hold up the line, but he reached out his hand to me. As I shook his hand, the words came to me courtesy something my mom had told me. "Hi Rick. I just wanted to tell you what a blessing this church is and that the services are offered online. My mom lives in South Korea and watches them online. She told me that she wished there were a way she could tell you how proud she is of you that you've lost so much weight recently. So, I'm taking this opportunity to tell you that." He shyly ducked his head and said, "Awww, thanks." I continued, "Your weight loss is actually an incredible witness to others, not only here in the U.S. but also to foreigners."
I could tell I had lost his attention at that point, he was already looking to the next person, so I moved on. Maybe he heard me. Maybe not. Maybe he took the encouragement I had meant to share, that's really all I wanted, was to encourage him. I know weight is a battle that many people struggle with. For someone as visible as he is to fight the battle and win is not only a witness to people who struggle with the same battle, but also to those in foreign lands who look at overweight Americans with disdain.
It is a realization that we can witness with our words or we can take our belief into our bodies and witness through what we do. Every struggle we face can be a witness to others. Not necessarily the struggle itself, we all have struggles, but how we handle them. Do we dwell in bitterness, anger and the unfairness of it all or do we ultimately turn to God?
I just realized something. By my attempts to be a blessing to someone else, I ended up feeling blessed. Hrm.