It's a Sunday, i'm in Starbucks, and my pastor is moving away. So, forgive me if I'm a little more reflective than usual. (Given that I'm rarely reflective publicly, brace yourselves).
I love my church. We're talking, love. Head over heels, till death do us part, kind of love. And no, it's not the building. I care far too much about aesthetics to love our building. It looks Costco with a cross. Instead, it's the people. It's the leaders. These people get the gospel, and when you get the gospel, your life changes. Your demeanor changes. You serve. You love. And good grief, you forgive.
I have been around Christians my entire life and I could use a lot of words to describe many of them, but love would not be one of them. (Don't think I'm pointing fingers here, either. I'm counting myself right in the thick of them.) (And if I use "them" one more time, I will fire myself and hire a new writer).
I've been thinking about this a long time and it comes down to this: when you get the gospel, you understand grace. Life stops being about being good enough to go to God and you start seeing where He is coming to you, even now. Life stops being about working harder and starts being about Christ working in you. And if you read nothing else, read this: when you get the gospel, you understand that you are loved more than you could ever imagine. As you are. Right now. Grace says there is nothing I can do to make God love me more, and there is nothing I can do to make God love me less. And from a girl who desperately wonders if God still loves her, this is incredible news. And by news, I mean absolute truth.