A Love Letter

My dear church family,

I love you.  This is a love letter to you.  Does that sound strange?  I suppose it does.

For over 20 years, we have been a part of your family.  As I sit in worship each Sunday, I often gaze at the faces that surround me, overwhelmed with love for the people with which we have been blessed to serve.  People we have known for all twenty years, or maybe just a month or two, and every time period in between.  People we have laughed with, cried with, grieved with and grown with.  People who have loved us through hard times and good.

For twenty years we have worshiped in this place.  For twenty years, you have been our family.  Through thick and thin, good times and bad, you have traveled with us.  We have shared your joys and sorrows too -- you have let us into your lives.  We have watched you mourn the losses of your loved ones, and we have mourned with you.  You have cried tears of joy and we have been privileged to cry with you.  And when our family has had hard times, you stood next to us, supporting us. 

We have raised our family here.  Your children are friends with our children; your lives have been intricately entwined with our family's.  We've navigated each new parenting challenge with you by our sides.  And we've launched our first child, with so much love for her from all of you. 

Every Sunday, I watch our Eucharistic ministers bow as they ascend the altar steps, and I marvel at them.  Fathers, husbands, young men.. .all full of love for you and a desire to serve you by taking on the most holy task of feeding God's people God Himself.  I watch you model what it means to love Christ and serve Him.  And my heart overflows.

I watch you young moms and dads teach your children the importance of worshiping each Sunday, though I know how hard it is (oh how I know!) to struggle so often in the pew.  Yet you keep coming back, because you know how important it is.  Your dedication fills me up.  There is nothing more sacred than bringing your children to the foot of the cross each week.

And families with older children, a group I now belong to, I see you bring your preteens and teenagers each week, sometimes unwilling though they might be, because you know that just the same as when they were little, this is the most important thing you can do for them -- far greater than any other activity they engage in.  It's not always easy, but you persevere, and it is inspiring.

And older people, oh how I love you!  Seeing your faithful example to all of us brings such joy to my heart.  You, the seasoned saints, who share such wisdom with us all, often just by your quiet lives.  I adore seeing you, talking with you, and introducing my children to you.  Your experience shapes our congregation.

Today we sang that we are gracefully broken.  Oh, indeed we all are.  And as I looked out at your beautiful faces, I was so incredibly thankful to be gracefully broken with you, here, in this place.  The love and shared experiences we have had, culminating each week with Eucharist,  these past many years is a blessing I can't put into words.  Thank you.  Thank you for sharing your lives with us, and for welcoming our lives into your fold.  My heart overflows with love for you.

In Christ's love,
S