Having just returned from a nine-day mission trip with some folks at our church, I’ve been thinking a lot about the dynamic that happens on a trip like this one. Of course, a lot of things happen in the community where you serve. That’s the point. That’s why you go.

But, a lot of by-products happen as well.

Things happen in your own heart. God changes you in ways you never expected. Suddenly the “giver” ends up being the “receiver” and you remember that Jesus is the real giver. We’re ALL receivers.

One of the great by-products is the kinship that develops between the team members. We laugh together. We take turns using the outhouse. We scream together when we find a scorpion in the sink. We cry together (especially when women come along). We sit in a smoke-filled room with stingy eyes together. We rub each other the wrong way and figure out how to be longsuffering. We marvel together at the hand of God.

We put shoulder to the plow and we serve together. Day in and day out. And it is good.

Missions trips are a greenhouse for those things. But, it can happen here at home too. For instance, our Community Group is beginning to experience it. My sister is finding it as she serves in the nursery. Something just happens when you throw down your chips and go all in. It’s not always easy but it’s a beautiful thing.

Just this morning I found this clip from Pastor Mark Driscoll in Seattle. He expresses it well. How about you? Are you all in? Are you invested in the family of God?

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ne9DzfH3Ej0]

It’s almost imperceptible but I can hear the change in his voice. The glistening eyes as he returns to his seat only confirm it. This is the thing that I am loving most. This passion and this affection that bubbles to the surface from time to time. My heart is undone as I sit next to this man – my husband and also my pastor.

I’m not sure what I expected as I became a pastor’s wife nearly two year’s ago. Rick and I had been doing ministry together for years on the college campus. I was no stranger to the ups and downs that come with ministering to others. I suppose I knew that this would be different. That it would come with its own set of ups and downs. But I didn’t really know how it would feel.

In many ways, I’m still sorting through it. Navigating it as I go.

But, this. This raw love for his people. It has been an unexpected joy for me.

I’ve always respected his ability to teach the Bible – the studying and the praying and the planning and the actual delivery. I’ve seen him speak to thousands; I’ve watched him open the scripture to one hungry heart. I know he’s a gifted teacher. I’ve also long appreciated his ability to lead others. He’s a planner/thinker/doer with the unique ability to see both the big picture vision and the details that need to happen to get there. These are things I’ve watched him do for 17 years now. I knew they’d part of his role as pastor.

The thing that caught me off guard and has been such a joy to watch is this love that comes through as he shepherds our church. The shimmer in his eye as he gives a benediction. The emotion that surfaces in his voice as he prays for the church. The way he’s consistently reminding us of Jesus not because of religious show but because he truly wants what is best for us. The pensive concern on his face at the things he can’t share but feels deeply because someone in the church is hurting. The sober reflection as he serves communion and leads us to remembering. The intentional pursuit of being out of his office and with his people.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve seen him love people before. But, campus ministry is a constant influx of people coming and going. It covers a short burst in a person’s life. It’s a critical, transformational time… but by its very nature it is quite specific and quite short. Even our staff team was very young and very transient. We loved our students but we also knew that our time with them was brief.

But this new season of ministry has allowed me to see a side of Rick’s heart that has captured me all over again. Both as someone in his congregation and as the one who sits with him at the dinner table.

My heart is undone as I watch this man who loves his people so deeply – I’m grateful that he is my husband and also my pastor.

“What a refreshing time.” “Such neat group of people.” “I’m so glad we went.”

Such was our conversation as we got back in the car last night. We were tired from a long week and it was late but all of that seemed to fall away as we talked. We were so encouraged and grateful. Hearts happy. Tanks full. What was it that had us so jazzed? A masterful concert? A blockbuster movie? A grand fireworks show? Nope. Not that there is anything wrong with those things, but this was nothing like that. It was nothing fancy. Not a big event. Just a group of people in a home in Tallmadge, Ohio. Talking, studying, snacking, laughing. Sharing life. 

You see, Rick and I are taking time this summer to visit the various Community Groups in our church. They’re really just a slice of Crossroads Community Chapel. Little windows into the bigger family of our church. They meet in homes, pray together, study the Bible, and share life. With all the transitions of starting a new church campus we haven’t gotten in a group ourselves just yet and are, instead, enjoying this time to visit the others.

Last night was our first, and I left so refreshed. As I sat there and looked around the room, I thought about how nice it is to be in someone’s home. There’s just a comfort and vulnerability that seems to happen when you’re sitting in someone’s living room.

Then, when we opened the Bible, the discussion was rich and vulnerable. We were looking at a passage in Paul’s letter to the church in Philippi. It’s this beautiful, deeply challenging portion about Jesus’ humility as He emptied Himself and willingly died on a cross. Before we knew it, two hours had passed. The discussion was so rich that the leader had to prod us along to bring us to closure. Great questions unfolded as we studied the passage and wrestled not only with the Truth of Jesus’ life but the implications that life has for us. The stage was set as one man led out and shared about a time this week when he had failed to lead his family in humble service. Others opened up and we talked about how hard it is to follow Jesus’ example when we’re all so insecure in our own lives.

I was challenged as I considered my own heart. The Bible has a way of leaving me simultaneously undone and hopeful. I am continually amazed by its power.

But, the thing that was so especially encouraging in this instance was that I left with a sweet glimpse of their hearts. I’m in a totally different phase of life than most of them. I already knew some of them better than others. I was meeting one couple for the first time. How often would we normally cross paths with this collection of people in the day to day of my kid-focused life?

And yet, here we were. Tied together by the grace found in Jesus. In a home in Tallmadge, Ohio; talking about more than the weather or Cleveland sports or the best price for produce. We were sharing the deeper things of life and something beautiful was happening. When Rick and I had to leave at 11 p.m. to relieve our kidsitters, the rest of the group was still standing around talking. Something beautiful indeed.

This is our church. Meeting in a converted warehouse. Temporary canvas sign out front. Borrowed parking next door. Simple spaces.

This is our church. A young father showing up just after sunrise to set-up and practice with  his band of volunteers. Sound checks. Running through the worship set yet again. Hearts to do more than perform songs but to really lead in worship. Circling up to pray before the rest of congregation begins to trickle in.

This is our church. Faithful deacons and ministry leaders getting their own families ready early and leaving their homes an hour earlier than usual so that they can help others encounter the Living God. Turning on lights and air conditioning, pulling out boxes of welcome materials, setting up tables for coffee, preparing children’s ministry rooms, arranging for communion. A myriad of to-dos that most people will never consciously notice. Sacred tasks. No one worries about whose job it is to do which task, each one jumps in to help the other and camaraderie grows.

This is our church. Sweet worship rising up to heaven as regular, everyday people pause to acknowledge the One who made them. Nursery volunteers snuggling sad toddlers. Kids singing so loud that we can hear them in the next room when we pause between songs. A pastor praying with a tender heart for his people. All pausing to remember the blood and broken body of our Savior. Opening our Bibles to the book of Galatians to continue our series. Desperately praying that the Gospel really would go deep. That we would abandon our bricks for the Cross.

This is our church. One couple holding hands as they stand and sing…their sweet infant son in the car seat beside them. Another couple barely able to sit together because the pain in their marriage is so great. Families who have lived in Northeast Ohio their whole lives. Others transferred in and learning to make it home. Still another preparing to move out West this summer. Some with a full brood of children. Others with hope deferred, seeking God for a fruitful womb. Singles. Marrieds. Empty nesters. All learning to find God in all the seasons of life. He is there.

This is our church. Fledgling congregation shooting out from a large, strong root. Remembering launch team days where we spoke of loving God and loving people. A simple but solid foundation. Elevate, love, and adore the Lord. Love what He loves: people. Sacrifice for them, encourage them. Today, the tasks are many. The launch team has morphed into a full-fledged congregation. The rubber meets the road. Ideas of loving God and loving people are put to the test. The fledgling congregation is beautiful and fragile all at once.

This is our church. Fears, dreams, hopes, hurts. Brokenness. Humility. Wrestling with the ugliness we sometimes find in our hearts. At the same time, sweet laughter in each other’s presence. Victory and delight. Healing and understanding where there was once miscommunication. Hearts knit together as we pray. Delving into the Word as we search for truth together, spurring one another on toward love and good deeds.

This is our church. A group of people all bound together by grace. Sweet, amazing grace. It’s not our season or our socioeconomic status or our background or our ethnicity or our religious pedigrees or our personalities or our gifts or our political affiliations. It’s just grace. When that’s all we’ve got, we can revel in it together. No pretense. God is exalted and our hearts are at rest. This is our church.