Follow The Light

 In the cold of winter, as a few of us gathered in our church for choir rehearsal, we noticed the two young ladies walk into the back. They gave us a tiny wave of acknowledgement, but we'd never seen them before. There was obviously a reason they had stepped into the building, but none of us knew the story. 

We rarely do. 

During a short break a few minutes later, one of the ladies went out to the church foyer to find out who they were and if they needed anything. Turns out, their car had broken down and they pulled into our parking lot, figuring it was better than leaving it on the side of the main road, and they were waiting for a friend to come pick them up. They said they saw the lights on in our church and determined it was safe place to come. 

I overheard it, and I smiled. 

They broke down and saw the lights on and chose to come to a church. 

The lesson was striking to me: if we can't enter the doors of the grace-filled space of hope that is a church, where else can we turn? There is nothing special about the place as a building itself but this is the destination where all broken people can come when everything falls apart. When we've broken down in our lives and have nowhere to go, we can always go to where the light is always on. We can go where God is. His arms are wide open and He is the safe place to run - the refuge to hide in - when it all goes so very wrong. 

And here's the thing that day: it was frigid cold outside. It wouldn't have been wise to wait out in the car. And so they came in. They sat and listened as we practiced... and they felt something. They said as they walked in it was like angels were singing. God met them the moment they walked in the door. 

He always does. 

He leaves the lights on and extends the invitation to, "Come to Me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest" (Matthew 11:28). He opens the door and asks you in to rest your broken heart and find the peace you've always searched for. He is the beacon in the darkest night that you can point to and know that you will discover the love there that you've always wanted but never fully found. Church building or not, the caring and inviting presence of Jesus draws you in and makes you feel at home. Warms your frozen, aching spirit and shows you a safe haven that, once you've entered, makes you never want to leave again. 

I think of all the souls who feel judged before they ever walk in the door and they never want to come to the door and all they can feel is those who have tainted the holy space and instead made them feel anything but grace and the light no longer beckons but drives away and if only they knew Jesus they would want to stay. Because the church should be the place where you can bring your busted heart and have it mended. Where the kind hands of Jesus touch you in the tenderest place and help you know the power of redeeming grace. It's where those with the roughest past can find hope and know that forgiveness calls us into something more. If He doesn't meet you at the door and all you feel is what others have done or said before, He is not there. And the best part of it is, even if the Church has driven you away, the Savior's arms still welcome and invite you to fall into them and stay. 

Later, once the friend arrived and we'd fed their starving stomachs and warmed their chilly hands, we sent the girls on their way. As they drove off, we didn't know what seeds were sown that day. We may or may not ever see them again. But their story intersected with ours briefly - all because the lights were on in the church and we met them with grace and hospitality. Who knows what God will do because of that. We never know the story, but He does. All we can do is show up and be His hands and feet on site. 

If you feel like you're breaking down and have nowhere to turn, go where God is and believe you will be met there. Go to where the light is always on and the welcome is always ready. Because it is. And it always will be. Come out of the cold and into the light and let Him be everything for you you've always hoped for.