Yesterday, our church body had an all day Christmas party in our new home. The morning service was devoted to praise and thanksgiving for God’s marvelous and miraculous provision of our facility. Community members came in droves for the afternoon open house. Contractors, builders, bankers, and the pastor of the church from which our body was birthed ten years ago, and many more were special guests at the dedication service following the open house. Then we gathered for a feast and fellowship.
The kids ate and played, oblivious to the significance of the moment. Being young, they take miracles in stride. But we older folks, who spent the past ten years waiting and working and wondering and doubting, relished the moment when grace rained down, wetting our cheeks with tears.
Over and over, our guests commented, “This doesn’t feel like a church. It feels like home.” Which made every person on the decorating committee jig with joy because from the very beginning, those talented women said, “We want this place to feel warm and welcoming, like coming home.”
Not an easy task, but with black ceilings (we all thought they were crazy), warm colors on the walls (I was concerned it would be too dark), hubcaps decorating the men’s bathrooms (you have to see it to believe it), a farm theme in the nursery (makes me want to be a kid again), a youth room with neon, blinking palm trees (way cool), a cozy fireside room (the donated leather sofas are so inviting), and a gigantic Christmas tree smack dab in the middle of the foyer (who would think to put the tree in the center of the entry?), they pulled it off.
If you missed the open house, don’t take my word for it. Stop by to see it. We’d love to show you around and tell you the story of how God brought us to our new home just in time for the holidays.
It’s a story to shout from the rooftops, but incredible as it is, it doesn’t hold a candle to the Christmas story. The story of the Son of God, who left his heavenly home to live among men. The story of Jesus, who gave up comfort so he could become our comfort. The story of hope not found in ceilings and walls and hubcaps and leather sofas or in any other earthly thing.
Our hope came down from heaven on the wings of love divine, all love excelling, joy of heaven to earth come down. When that hope enters our trembling heart, we are finally and eternally home for the holidays.
