Airports fill up with interesting people.
You have the little kids running around with smiles on their faces.
A momma pushing twin babies through the crowds.
The gypsies sleeping on the floor who may or may not have shaved.
All sorts gather here to come, to leave, and create the perfect space for god encounters.
Before I encountered all the hustle, I found myself sitting quietly at the ticketing counter waiting. I sat alone with my laptop being mindful that I should be working.
A complete stranger entrusted me with a part of his story.
My heart broke both for the pain in his story and in the threads of my own.
He shared of wounds from the church, affairs, a lack of leadership action, and his own struggle to show up to church.
I spoke what I could and heard his pain in a way that I could feel.
Because well I may not have been in his exact shoes, I have felt the pain in my own story.
The pain of imperfect people and the battle wounds they leave.
Imperfect people in imperfect churches.
The hard truth that we can see glimpses of God in people, but they pale in comparison.
I spoke life and reminded him while preaching to myself that people aren’t God.
Only God can make beauty out of ashes. Only God can work all things out for good for those who love him and are called according to His purpose. Only God gives every good and perfect gift. Only God makes the wilderness into Eden.
People are not God. We fall short. Very very short.
And so when I chalk up another wound, I must remember…that’s not what God is like.