11/3/22

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This is my second post in Megan Kenyon’s The Women’s Chapel Photochallenge.

The prompt is “A Comforting Word”

When I read that yesterday I thought, “I can’t think of just one. All the things I can think of are phrases. It will probably take me a few days, maybe even a week to figure out just one comforting word…”

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This morning I dropped my girls off at their grandma’s house and made it home with the plan of getting back in bed for a minute so I could pretend to get out of bed for the first time again. It had been a rough start to the day. I didn’t pray first thing, like I often do. There was a lot of whining from children, and inner whining/outer yelling from adults - at least this adult. I just felt like I had gotten out on the wrong side of the bed. So constructing a do-over seemed like a good plan.

Then I looked at the clock and realized I could just make it for the chapel sermon at the seminary that’s five minutes from my house Concordia Seminary. I thought about changing out of my pjs… I probably should have… but I’m going to be 100% honest. I didn’t. I went in the clothes that I slept in. People like me, mothers of small children, actually do this sort of thing a lot. If you ever see a mom-type person who looks like she may have slept in those clothes, she probably did. But it’s okay. I’m glad she’s out : )

If it makes you feel any better, the sweatpants I was wearing are kind of disguised to look like jeans…

Anyway, when I got there, I was 15 minutes late to chapel. Which is usually just how I like it. I can sneak in, sit in the back where no one will see that I’m wearing my pjs and then sneak out after hearing the gospel and grace of Jesus and singing a few nice soul-reviving tunes.

Today was different. I was accidentally 15 minutes early to a super fancy service commemorating the new stained glass windows. Everyone was pretty dressed up and there were not one but two elaborate service folders being handed to me - a person wearing her pjs. I asked the greeter what was going on. Then I asked her if it was okay that I was wearing sweatpants. She said yes. That was nice of her : ) But I still felt pretty weird and bad about it.

I went in and sat towards the back, feeling like I should probably leave… But I decided to stay, even though I couldn’t stop feeling a little embarrassed about my garb. I sat right next to one of the bright colorful windows. I mean I could touch it. (I did touch it…) I love sitting close to them. I can feel the warmth of the morning sunlight on my shoulder, but it’s usually disguised in blue or green or purple, which makes it feel like magic. I mean, sunlight really is magic. But it’s just a nice reminder. And the colors imprint onto my hymnal during the services, highlighting words and liturgy that seem like little messages from God to pay closer attention to those parts.

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I often go to chapel when I feel the worst. These days it’s hard for me to get all the gospel and rest that I need from Sunday church, because I have my children with me. They are wonderful and I love them. But they also kind of suck the life and attention-span out of me. So if I can’t listen closely for words about peace and grace, I often miss them. But I need them really really bad. I mean we all do. But as a mom of young kids, I feel like I need them extra. I’m sure that’s not true. But at the same time, if I’m not constantly being reminded of the peace and love of Jesus, I end up overflowing my bitterness and suffering onto my children, in ways that humans don’t normally overflow their bitterness and suffering onto each other. So maybe in a way, I do need them extra? It doesn’t matter if I do or not. Everyone needs to hear words about peace and grace on a constant basis. That is just the truth about the way the world moves.

Anyway, I go to chapel to hear the words about peace and grace that I couldn’t hear on Sunday. I usually hear them pretty clearly in the various scripture that’s read. But if I’m listening really closely I get to hear them even more clearly through the sermon that takes hold of the various scripture readings and implements them into life today. It always feels like the pastor is speaking directly to me. Almost in a way that feels like he is invading my privacy. Like how could he know that I’m going through this right now…? He doesn’t even know my name. Does he see me? I’m hiding in the back. Behind a pillar… Can he tell that I slept in these clothes?

In the tiny amount of time I’ve lived on the earth, I’ve had the pleasure of reflecting on some sermons with other people together after various church services. Never a Concordia Seminary chapel service. But I have a hunch, that based on shared reflections I’ve had with others in the past, there were a lot of other people in the chapel today that felt like the pastor was talking right to them, just as directly as he was speaking to me.

This phenomenon always reminds me of the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. Spoiler, the movie is about a pair of pants that magically fits four very differently shaped girls who also happen to lead four very differently shaped lives. It doesn’t just fit them. It’s like it was custom made for each girl.

I think that scripture does that - for the people who are listening. I think that four very differently shaped girls who also happen to lead four differently shaped lives could be sitting in the same chapel service. They could hear all of the exact same scripture and the exact same sermon and it could fit them all exactly the same. Like it was custom made for each of them.

(Too bad they couldn’t just put it on right then. Then they wouldn’t have to be sitting there in their pjs anymore… Oops. I forgot we’re talking about scripture now, not pants. I seem to be kind of obsessed with pants right now (throw-back to my day 1 photo challenge). )

Anyway, it is really phenomenal to me how directly scripture can apply from one person to the next. No matter what they’re going through. It’s phenomenal, until I remember where it’s coming from. I suppose this is why it’s sometimes referred to as the living word. It really is alive.

And it is alive in my heart all the time. Until it’s not. On the days that I feel the worst. Those are the days when I haven’t been listening to God for a while. Maybe I haven’t been paying attention while I read my bible, or I haven’t been able to listen closely enough to a sermon for some time. This is when I usually end up in my pjs at chapel because I got out on the wrong side of the bed.

So today I went to listen. Do you know what Jesus said to me?

He said, “It’s okay that you’re in your pjs. Stop thinking about your pjs. I’m not thinking about them. I forgive you for yelling at your children this morning. They will be alright because I love you and I love them and you love them. You didn’t scar them. I forgive you.”

He also said, “I see the pain you’ve been going through. I love you. I see you and I love you.”

And I know that He said it to at least three other differently shaped girls who have differently shaped lives in that room. I don’t know if they ended up crying, but I sure did.

That is The Comforting Word.

The living one.

The Gospel.

Emmanuel, that is God with us.

Jesus is with us and He is alive in His word and in our hearts.