I’m the lucky one who gets to sit on the other side of the wall and soak up the bits and pieces of their conversations. Snippits of what could be if each one could reach one.
Blueberry cobbler and vanilla ice cream melt into one and the men wash it down with fresh coffee. I sneak in and pour more coffee just so that I can see their faces. I want to see the faces that speak the words that I can hear through the wall. I peek through my lashes and catch serious looks and I can see that the weight of reaching our city is falling on more shoulders.
I can hear names and I hear paper scratching as Thad scrawls each one down. Real people who are on the hearts of men sitting in my dining room. And it is evident to me that the Lord is working out everything according to his plan.
It’s amazing to me that out of emptiness God chooses to work out his plan.
A year of being emptied and squeezed until I felt that I could not bear any more, gave space for God to lavish me (us) with His fullness of grace.
His work. His doing. His reaching down and moving people and resources to work out his plan. His plan. Not our’s.
I can hear the men wrapping up and laughter bounces off the walls of the dining room. Things quiet as whispers fill the room with prayers for partners. Prayers for those who are far from God. Prayers for protection for those who are choosing to move into the dark places to be the light. Prayers of confession. Prayers for courage and boldness in sharing the hope of the Gospel and the grace of Jesus. Prayers for wives who are uncertain of the changes that are coming their way.
As the men gather their books and bibles, I am reminded of God’s faithfulness.
And His lavish grace…even upon someone like me.