My Own Home, Lynchburg, VA

Church #172 found me stepping into another unconventional, yet deeply necessary, church.

Today, church was not in a sanctuary. Once again… it was not in a pew, under stained glass, or surrounded by the familiar sounds of a congregation singing together. Today, church was caring for my family.

And once again, God reminded me that ministry is not confined to a building. Sometimes those places are the ones we never planned to be.

This season of my life has been hard in ways that are different from the hard seasons I have walked through before. Grief has changed me. Responsibility has changed me. Caregiving has changed me. The worries that seem to pile up one after another have changed me. Life has felt like a roller coaster that never quite stops long enough to catch my breath, and I have felt every single emotion along the way.

There are mornings when I get in my car, turn the music up, and sing with everything I have because I know someone else may need the encouragement as much as I do. I think about the messages I receive from so many of you who have walked this journey with me for years, and I pray that if my voice can remind even one person that Jesus is still worthy of praise, then I want to keep singing.

But what most people do not see is what sometimes happens after that.

Sometimes I finish singing, and the rest of the drive home is spent in tears. You know, the kind that make you grip the steering wheel a little tighter because you are trying to keep your composure. The kind where you ask God for just enough strength to make it through one more hour.

My soul is tired.

My mind is tired.

My heart is tired.

My body is tired.

There are days when I feel like I have nothing left to give, and yet somehow, when I wake up the next morning, there is enough grace for one more day.

Because Jesus keeps holding me up.

He is the only reason I am still standing.

I have spent years writing about miracles, about faith, about trusting God through every season, and I believe every word of it more today than I did when I first started. But believing God is good has never meant pretending life is easy.

Those are two very different things.

God is good.

Life is hard.

And, both can be true at the same time.

I think sometimes people believe that if someone talks about God’s goodness, it must mean they are untouched by heartbreak. But sometimes it is, “Look at what tried to destroy me… and somehow I am still here because Jesus refused to let go of me.”

There are moments when I ask myself, “How do I keep telling people that God is good while life feels like it keeps tearing pieces of me away?”

And the answer the Holy Spirit keeps placing on my heart is that God’s goodness has never depended on my circumstances.

If His goodness depended on my circumstances, then He would have stopped being good the day my mother died.

He would have stopped being good on the worst days from my childhood.

He would have stopped being good in every waiting room, every hard conversation, every tear-filled drive home.

But He didn’t.

His goodness is measured by the fact that He has never abandoned me.

And maybe that is what someone reading this needs today.

Maybe you have been asking God to remove the storm, while all along He has been holding your boat together.

There is one thought that keeps returning to my heart over and over again.

Jesus never asked us to pretend the cross was light. He carried it anyway. He never told us that love would be easy. He loved anyway. He never stopped giving Himself away, even when it cost Him everything. And if I want my life to look like His, then maybe my calling is not to wait until serving becomes easy. Maybe my calling is simply to keep loving, serving, giving and showing up. Keep putting one foot in front of the other. Because that is exactly what Jesus did.

So that is where Church #172 finds me.

I have spent so much time asking God to make me stronger… when all along He has been teaching me that I was never supposed to carry all of this by myself.

So if you have followed this journey for years, I hope you have not simply watched me visit churches.

I hope you have watched Jesus remain faithful. Because buildings have changed. Seasons have changed. My heart has changed. Life has changed. But one thing has never changed.

Jesus is still here.

And today, when I have nothing left to offer Him except a tired heart, weary hands, and tear-filled eyes… He still says that is enough.

I cannot wait to see where the Holy Spirit leads next.