Jesus writes beautiful lives into being.
Rainbow strands woven amongst the drab greys and browns of brokenness and sin. Beauty out of ashes. Hope out of despair.
I love the church.
In all her messiness, she still makes my breath catch. Tears still spring to my eyes at the thought of this family of believers.
And though I sometimes feel like we are the poor cousin to other more successful churches, he always shows me again the stories that he is telling in the lives of this people and then all that ceases. Because when I see this people, I see the story of redemption writ large. In London as it is in heaven.
So be it.