Blubbing in church

Today I cried in church. It's not a normal occurrence, despite the emotional "lability" symptom of PLS. It was awkward because I was at the front with Jane, and the church was going to pray for us. We've been with them for three years and they've been like an oasis to our weary selves. Coincidentally or not the church is called Elim (Numbers 33.^{9: "}And they set out from Marah and came to Elim; at Elim there were twelve springs of water and seventy palm trees, and they camped there.") Now we believe it's time to be journeying on.


The trouble was, I looked up at the people who had welcomed us and received into their family, and who'd become deeper than friends to us. And it cracked me up. It was a bit embarrassing all round. Jane told me afterwards she hadn't seen it coming! But everyone waited patiently for me to pull myself together. Actually I have a feeling quite a number were praying. And I tried to remember to take deep breaths. Eventually I was able, by dint of keeping my eye on the ground, to articulate some of what I wanted to say, which included "Thank you" and "You haven't seen the last of us". We are, after all, still remaining here in Grove, and do feel free to worship with them whenever. As someone said, God's Church is in reality one Church; our divisions are man-made and artificial. 


However, I reflected, as I sat there and as I'd sat in another church over three years ago, how real and deep is the love that God creates within his family. "Faith, hope and love abide, but the greatest of these is love." 


Incidentally, to be honest, I can think of no better place to cry, even to howl with pain, than in the presence of God. Sometimes we think we must present a smiling face to him, as if "I'm fine" deceives him for a nanosecond. One of the lovely things this morning was our friends' willingness to share in our pain, if it was pain. Perhaps it was a confusion of emotions. But share it they did; deny it they did not. Bless them.