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"This seminar has been extremely inspiring to me. As my husband and I prepare to be first time Sunday School teachers in youth, you have given me great information and most of all great inspiration and encouragement."
Indulge me to quote once again from Courageous Leadership by Bill Hybels. I love this book, and this section stirs my soul. It communicates that we are not just presenting lessons, we are building community. I want to invite you to join me in giving your one and only life to building this kind of community and sharing it with the world.
I had just finished presenting my weekend message at Willowcreek and I was standing in the bullpen, talking to the people. A young married couple approached me, placed a blanketed bundle in my arms, and asked me to pray for their baby.
As I asked what the baby's name was, the mother pulled back the blanket that had covered the infant's face. I felt my knees begin to buckle. I thought I was going to faint. Had the father not steadied me I may well have keeled over. In my arms was the most horribly deformed baby I had ever seen. The whole center of her tiny face was caved in. How she kept breathing I will never know.
"Her name is Emily," said the mother. "We've been told she has about six weeks to live," added the father. "We would like you to pray that before she dies she will know and feel our love."
Barely able to mouth the words, I whispered, "Let's pray." Together we prayed for Emily. Oh, did we pray. As I handed her back to her parents I asked, "Is there anything we can do for you, any way that we as a church can serve you during this time?"
The father responded with words that still amaze me. He said, "Bill, we're okay. Really we are. We've been in a loving small group for years. Our group members knew that this pregnancy had complications. They were at our house the night we learned the news, and they were at the hospital when Emily was delivered. They helped us absorb the reality of the whole thing. They even cleaned our house and fixed our meals when we brought her home. They pray for us constantly and call us several times every day. They are even helping us plan Emily's funeral."
Just then three other couples stepped forward and surrounded Emily and her parents. "We always attend church together as a group," said one of the group members.
It was a picture I will carry to my grave, a tight-knit huddle of loving brothers and sisters doing their best to soften one of the cruelest blows life can throw. After a group prayer, they all walked up the side aisle toward our lobby.
Where I wondered as they left, would that family be, where would they go, how would they handle this heartbreak, without the church
There is nothing like the local church when it's working right. Its beauty is indescribable. Its power is breathtaking. Its potential is unlimited. It comforts the grieving and heals the broken in the context of community. It builds bridges to seekers and offers truth to the confused. It provides resources for those in need and opens its arms to the forgotten, the downtrodden, the disillusioned. It breaks the chains of addictions, frees the oppressed, and offers belonging to the marginalized of this world. Whatever the capacity for human suffering, the church has a greater capacity for healing and wholeness.
Still to this day, the potential of the local church is almost more than I can grasp. No other organization on earth is like the church. Nothing even comes close.