Church Family

Today is Sunday. We will go to church as we do most Sundays. I love our church. I love the music--they totally rock. I love our pastor. But mostly I really love people watching at church. Our church is multicultural. There are people of all colors, and people from all walks of life.

  • There is the one guy who is from Sweden, but lives here in CA--he was homeless, but a woman from our church pulled her car onto the side of the road on day (at the Lord's beckoning) and drove him to get food stamps...this lead to a friendship, and then he joined her at church. He has been at our church ever since. He is not homeless anymore. I don't really know him, but I love that story.
  • There is a Hispanic woman who attends. She is so nice and I love talking with her, but even more than that, I love to stand near her in church because when the music starts she sings really loud with the most beautiful accent.
  • There is a woman who I do not know at all, but one time I was helping serve communion and she came up and held out her hands so that I could help her by placing a piece of cracker in her palm. Her hands were shaking severely. She could not steady them. The little cup of grape juice spilled onto the white napkin that she had strategically placed in her shaky hands --but despite her difficulty, she came forward to receive the Lord's supper.
  • There is a couple who has a passion for forming relationships with the local university's foreign students. So they always have incredible stories about what happens when you open up your home to those far away from theirs.
The list could go on, but I think this is my most favorite part about church. The people and their stories.

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