Marked.
Marked.
When we first came up with the title for this Lenten series I was especially moved by the word, “Marked”. Enough that I’ve been lingering on it for over a month and reflecting on what this could mean. We are each marked with life. The good, the bad,
the ugly. But I think those places where suffering has marked us are the places where God can do the coolest work. Suffering sucks. Don’t get me wrong! But it can produce a harvest of good when God gets involved and we let Him do what He does best.
Have you ever had the moment where you meet someone and they share a part of their story that matches a part of your story—and suddenly the two of you are friends for life because of the suffering you have shared together? That doesn’t happen to me
when I share good stuff. I am bonded with others through the bad stuff. It’s like a deep brotherhood/sisterhood suddenly takes place in a communal suffering narrative.
I think we have the same communal suffering with Jesus. He took on the largest, biggest, baddest, worst imaginable suffering ever. He understands our story. He understands our struggles. We share together in suffering and a brotherhood happens. He
gets it. We are bonded in friendship for life. It is good to be marked.
It is GOOD to be marked.
We enter into the suffering of Christ this season because it is good to be marked. Come, let us draw closer to the heart of God.
Leah Carolan
Director of Worship and Media
In Christ,
Dwelling in Jesus,
Our Open Hands Food Pantry is a great way to help others in need in our community. Can you help to fill bags? Help is needed Mondays, 4:45-5:15pm, Wednesdays & Fridays 9:45am-1:15pm. No experience is necessary; sign up outside the door to the pantry (located down the left side hallway). Questions? Call Darlene, 223-5652 or Karen, 360-5410.
Please welcome Kyle, Alisse, and Hadley!
Two other thoughts that I brought back from this experience were to meet real needs instead of assumed needs, and to be content in all things. My lesson in contentment came on our third night there as we drove down a dark dirt road into a neighborhood with tin homes and no lights. We pulled up to a cinder block home and stepped out of the van into darkness. As we opened the door, the light from a few bulbs and the heat from a wood burning stove met us with warmth, but what was even warmer still were the smiles of the family inviting us into their humble home. This family of four exuded hospitality, contentment, and peace. Something that, if we are honest, is not experienced much in America. Most homes are filled with the stress of busy schedules and things to get done. This family welcomed 12 strangers into their home for a meal and fellowship.
~ Jeremy Van Genderen