In High School, I participated in choir. At the end of each school year, the choir would perform several songs at graduation. One was the Senior Song that the Seniors of the group chose to sing. My graduating class of 2007 chose "For Good" from Wicked. We had 604 students in my graduating class. For the past 10 years, I've only seen or talked to a handful of them. That's part of life isn't it? We grow up, begin the next chapter of life and friendships and relationships change. 

 The last few years have been significant in the amount of people that have come and gone in my life. Some days I reflect and I'm grateful. Thankful to have known that person and grateful for the memories. I look at a photo on my shelf or scroll through a Facebook memory and I smile because I remember a moment or a funny story. Sometimes there is sadness because that person is no longer in my life. Sadness and disappointment because I long for them in my life once again. But that's part of life isn't it?

People come and go in our lives. We drive people away, although sometimes we don't mean to. People let us down and leave us. People are taken from our lives too soon or unfairly. The person or people we long for never seem to come in our lives when we need them or want them. But that's part of life isn't it?

The reality is, it is part of life, whether we like it or not. How we deal with that reality makes all the difference. I wish I could say I've figured it out, but I haven't. When people leave, it hurts. When what we long for doesn't come to fruition, it's painful. What I do know is that there is something we can learn from people that come into our lives. No matter how long they are there for, we can and should lean into the goodness that is born from that relationship. How has that person changed us? How have we changed that person? How has that relationship made us better? 

I've heard it said, that people come into our lives, for a reason. Bringing something that we must learn. And we are led to those, who help us most to grow. If we let them, and we help them in return. 

People come into our lives and it's intentional. I really believe that Christ places people in our lives for a reason. Even though it hurts sometimes, there is something we can learn from each and every relationship. 

It well may be that we will never meet again, in this lifetime. So let me say before we part. So much of me, is made from what I learned from you. You'll be with me, like a hand print on my heart. 

Sometimes we know it's coming. We will never meet that person again in this lifetime. Maybe it's the passing of someone. Maybe it's a relationship that has come to an end. Maybe it's a friendship that has been severed and it was beyond our control. Loss and disappointment hurt. But we don't have to live in that hurt. We can let the hand print that has been left on our heart sustain us and shape us into something new. 

Who can say if I've been changed for the better. But  because I knew you, I have been changed for good. 

This comes down to us and how we see life. Is the glass half full or half empty. Do we look up to what can lift us up or do we look down and dwell in our pain and suffering. 

One of the first children I had hoped to adopt taught me a lesson that I will never forget. We'll call him Asa. Asa was 6 years old. I had had him for almost a year. The parents were not an option and DHR told me that I was going to be able to adopt him. We begin to move towards the adoption process when a relative came out of the woodwork. The relative had never taken an interest before in Asa's life and most importantly, he did not want to go with this relative. He wanted me to be his dad. DHR said it was just a formality. They had to hear the relative out  and there was NO way that he would go with the relative. 

It was the night before we went to court. The next day, the judge would decide if Asa would go with the relative. I knew the inevitable was about to happen. I was about to lose Asa. I think he knew it too, although he didn't say it. He was holding onto hope. As he got ready for bed that night, he asked if we could listen to music. He was sad. We listened to my playlist of songs that I always listen to when I am sad. At one point he asked if we could listen to the song called "Thy Will". He had a habit of getting the names of songs wrong so I thought he was confused. Little did I know that night, the song Thy Will by Hillary Scott was a song and a moment that  changed my life forever. If you are sad, in pain, lost and without a hope or understanding of what's next, this song is for you. Look that song up and you'll know what I mean. 

I miss Asa but I'm thankful he was a part of my life. The hand print he left on my heart will never go away. That's what it's about isn't it? People will come and go, but if we can have those moments that change us and shape us, can't that be enough? It has to be. In a world where people fail us, where where we fail ourselves and others, we have to hold onto something. 

Because I knew you, I have been changed for good...

An Anchor in the Storm

Several weeks ago I was listening to a sermon in which the pastor shared this quote. "In order to realize the worth of the anchor we need to feel the stress of the storm". Never would I have expected that less than three weeks later, I would be in the middle of not one but two of the biggest storms in my life. Life has been so difficult and almost unbearable the last two weeks beyond words. I have been sad, depressed, anxious, angry and lost with a sense of hopelessness. The challenges and struggles of my life thus far has not compared in weight to my current situation.

When we face storms in our life, when we take on the stress of those storms, our faith leads us to run towards the one who calms the storms or turn away. There is no middle ground. Someone once said our faith is like one in a boat; we are either moving towards Christ or away but never standing still. For every tear that has been shed over the last few weeks, I have searched and prayed for the anchor to hold me together in the midst of the storms. I have prayed countless nights for the peace that passes all understanding. I have prayed for hope that through this flood and fire, that Christ would be with me and never leave me alone.

I have done everything that I encourage others to do when they struggle and when they face their own storms. I have listened to my own advice. But it still hasn't been easy. I don't have all the answers and I am not the teacher when it comes to this but as the student, I would share these thoughts with you from the last couple of weeks:

1) God is good, God's ways are good and God is working all things for good. God is working in our waiting. We may not always feel this but God is working in ways beyond our own understanding.

2) Because of truth number 1, with time comes perspective and healing. We can't understand how time gives us perspective and healing until we experience it. Time is something we can't rush. In a world that has wired us to "on-demand living" the storms in our lives do not follow the same path. The more we can let go of the things that are beyond our control and focus on that which is within our control, the more we will experience a new view on our situation.

3) Take care of yourself. For me, the last few weeks has included leaning on those who love and support me in my life. For me it has meant seeking professional help. There's nothing wrong with that. Most people need to seek some sort of counseling at some point in their life. Seeking helps doesn't mean you can't handle things, it means you have the maturity to know when things are beyond your control. For me, it has also meant going away, getting out of my normal routine. For me, that's camping.

Whatever storms you may face or are currently are facing, know that you are not alone. Standing with you is a God who loves you beyond your own understanding. Peace, be still!

A call to serve

A Call To Serve..

Over two years ago, I began this journey of becoming a foster parent. After two years of this journey, I have experienced some of the most life-giving and life-affirming experiences that I will cherish for lifetime. I have also experienced some of the hardest experiences that to this day, it are too painful to think about. Being a foster parent has forced me to consider what it truly means to serve and to carry the cost of following Christ. I have not always gotten it right, but I continue to do better, to learn more and to grow closer each day as I continue on the journey. I started reading this book, Reframing Foster Care, by Jason Johnson, over Spring Break. I have found so much hope and encouragement through this book as I continue on this foster care journey. But as I read through this book, my mind wandered to the bigger picture. This book is geared towards foster parents or prospective foster parents, but the application is so much greater than just them. As a Baptist minister, I see this book as clarity and direction as we all consider our call to serve the least of these. Serving the least of these takes on many forms in our lives and foster care is one of those opportunities. Over the next few weeks, I want to share some gleamings with you. My hope is that you will see a deeper picture into the life of one on the journey of Foster Care but that you will also see a connection to your call to serve Christ, in whatever context that must be. 

Expanding The Table: Sermon from United Church of Huntsville, March 17, 2019

Expanding the Table 

Matthew 22: 36-40 

Rev. Patrick Streeter 

At my home, I have a beautiful farmhouse table that serves as our dining table. I saw it at an antique store on the parkway a few years ago. It was $300, which was above my price range at the time. I kept going back to the store in hopes that the price would drop. A few months later I walked into the store and he had dropped the price to $250. I thought I would take a shot and make an offer. I offered $200 but my offer was rejected. Over that next year I would return from time to time to the store. It sat there and dropped to $200 and then to $175. After a year, I walked back in and offered $150 and my offer was accepted. 

The table has made a beautiful addition to our home and it can seat 8 people at a time. At this table, over 22 foster children have come through my home and eaten a meal at this table. This table has hosted children and youth from church. We have gathered around this table for many church committee meetings. This table has been a gathering place for my family and friends as we gather together for parties and lunches. I love this table because it is a symbol in our home that all are welcome, regardless of where you come from or who you are. We all come from different walks of life, but we find commonality around the table together. 

Many of you gather together over the holidays around a table. You have place to gather together when friends and guests stop by. You have shared many meals and good conversation with friends and family. Take a moment to consider those whom you gathered with. Friends? Family? Those you shared common interests with? Those with different opinions? We live in a divisive world that is too often teaching us to stand our ground and hold true to our convictions. Maybe even seeking out the battles and arguments.  I have been contemplating this idea of expanding the table. Expanding our table. What does that look like in our own lives? 

Our text this morning is familiar one. It is one I love for many reasons. There are lots of ways we can get hung up on our ability to love, to show grace and mercy to one another. Let me love others Lord, but don’t let it come with too great a sacrifice. I want to love this person Lord, but they have hurt me so much. I want to seek grace and mercy in this situation Lord but I have been burned one too many times. I won’t be taken for a fool again. The command to love your neighbor as yourself cuts through every one of those excuses. 

My thought for us this morning is simple. We are called to expand our table. It is very easy for us to surround ourselves with those who we like, those who we get along with or those who we share common interests. It is more difficult to reach out to those on the “other side” or to those who is is uncomfortable for us to associate with. But the command to love your neighbor as yourself is without condition. 

Expanding the table requires sacrifice and a step out of comfort zone. Loving others requires us to go to difficult and uncomfortable places. Loving others sometimes requires us to take risks. To think differently, to see differently. In the fall of 2016 I began to take classes to become a licensed foster parent for Madison County DHR. Since February of 2017, I have welcomed over 22 children into my home. For some, their stay was short and for others much longer. Some have returned home to parents, some may never and some will eventually live with relatives. Doing this has been the most rewarding thing I have done in my life but also the most difficult. How do you love a child that wants to be loved but continues to push you away? How do you pick up the broken pieces of a child's life who has been shattered by years of abuse and neglect? I don’t always get it right, my five children here today will be more than happy to tell you that, but I try and I hope that they see  that I try and that they are encouraged to try too. Loving is hard. Loving is difficult. But when we allow ourselves to love others there are great opportunities that lie in front of us. To expand our table requires times where we may feel uncomfortable or out of our element. It requires us to take what we have come to know and expect and turn it upside down or change it. It requires us to be open to new possibilities and ideas. 

Expanding the table means that we don’t have to change our position on what we believe. What are the divisive discussions within our circles? Same sex marriage? Abortion? Immigration? Politics? We don’t have to change our political or social views to welcome others to our table. When we focus less on trying to change someone else beliefs or hardening down on our own then we open ourselves up to the opportunities to focus on something greater. We are able to put our common bond in Christ above all else. To expand our table we must put our common bond in Christ above all else. 

We don’t have to change our position, but we must also not find ourselves too far in our own corner that we are unable to listen to the other side or find common ground. In our quest to be inclusive, do we become exclusive by standing too strongly in our corner? My church, Weatherly Heights Baptist Church, has a mission statement that reads, an inclusive, discovering fellowship. We have folks from all spectrums of the political, and social scale from very conservative to very liberal to many in the middle. One of the things I observe as their minister is how we all gather together as a community of believers with one common bond in Christ, even though we differ in other ways. We aren’t perfect in our quest to be inclusive, but we do strive to be better and love each other through our common bond. I notice from time to time we get too far in our own corner and  that it keeps us from being inclusive. Have you ever found yourself in that position before? It’s my way or the highway. If others can’t get on board, they can be left behind. Christ’s model for us is different. He didn’t leave people behind, He met them where they were and invited them on a journey. Do you have a meeting place for people to come to your church. If they want to get on board with what you are doing, meet here? Or do you go to where people are to meet them where they are? The church must stop expecting people to come to them. We as the church must go to where the people are. It is then that we will find opportunities to be the hands and feet of Christ. 

A few years ago, we went through a season of life in our church where we faced a divisive issue. When we were faced with expulsion from our local denominational association,  our Pastor kept using the phrase, “Our tent is enough for others”. To this day that thought has stuck in my mind to this day. Is our tent big enough to be inclusive of all? Is our table long enough to welcome all?

To answer this question, we must answer this one: What does it look like in our own lives to expand our table. 

To welcome someone regardless of their political affiliation. 

To welcome someone regardless of their sexual orientation 

To welcome someone regardless of their legal status

To welcome someone regardless of their race. 

To welcome someone closest to us who has hurt us. 

To welcome those we consider our enemies. 

To do this means we must put our own positions aside, to consider the “other side”, and to welcome with a warm embrace as Christ does. We don’t have to change from republican to democrat. We don’t have to affirm same sex marriage. We can expand our table without changing what we believe about immigration and abortion. Why is it that we are quick to offer mercy and grace to a total stranger, but to those closest to us, who have hurt us deeply, they are the last to be forgiven? 

Let me read our text for us one more time. Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest? He said to him, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind”. This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” On these two commandments hang all the law and prophets”. Before we seek to expand our table, we must ask ourselves, are we loving the Lord our God with all our heart? We must also ask how we love ourselves. Do we have a healthy view of how God sees and loves us? 

Do you know that you are loved, chosen and wonderfully made by God? Do you really believe that in your heart of hearts? There is nothing that you can do that God will not forgive you or love you any less that God already does. How we accept and receive love directly relates to how we show love to others. So many of the children that have come through my home have been abused. Their outlook on how they love others is tainted because their experiences of how they have received loved have so badly scarred them. As we seek to love others, we must also remember that how our love is received may be difficult for that person because of their own experiences. 

How big is your table? How many seats does your table hold? Is there more room at your table? Is your table inclusive and diverse? One of the books I have been reading, is by John Pavlovitz, entitled A Bigger Table: Building Messy, Authentic, and Hopeful Spiritual Community. A must read for all. Here these thoughts from John: 

“One of the biggest, most damaging mistakes too many Christians so willingly make is assuming that God is as much of a judgmental jerk as we are. But what if we could make room for difference and space for disagreement in our spiritual communities? What if we could give permission for moral failure and freedom to not be certain, and the chance to gloriously fail without needing those things to become black marks against people or death-penalty offenses? What if we made space for people who are as messed up as we are?” Let’s focus on make our circle bigger, not smaller. Let’s be inclusive and not exclusive. Let us love our neighbor as we are loved by God, without condition. Let us love those different from us just as we love those closest to us. May we come to realize that there is room at our table. May we seek a diverse table that inclusive for all. May Your love for us be enough. Amen. 

My sermon from Sunday...

Expanding the Table 

Matthew 22: 36-40 

Rev. Patrick Streeter 

At my home, I have a beautiful farmhouse table that serves as our dining table. I saw it at an antique store on the parkway a few years ago. It was $300, which was above my price range at the time. I kept going back to the store in hopes that the price would drop. A few months later I walked into the store and he had dropped the price to $250. I thought I would take a shot and make an offer. I offered $200 but my offer was rejected. Over that next year I would return from time to time to the store. It sat there and dropped to $200 and then to $175. After a year, I walked back in and offered $150 and my offer was accepted. 

The table has made a beautiful addition to our home and it can seat 8 people at a time. At this table, over 20 foster children have come through my home and eaten a meal at this table. This table has hosted our Weatherly children for milk and cookies each year. Our youth and college students have shared many meals around this table. This table has played host for several church committee dinners and meetings. This table has been a gathering place for my family and friends as we gather together for parties and lunches. I love this table because it is a symbol in our home that all are welcome, regardless of where you come from or who you are. We all come from different walks of life, but we find commonality around the table together. 

Many of you have gathered together over the holidays around a table. You have shared many meals and good conversation with friends and family. Take a moment to consider those whom you gathered with. Friends? Family? Those you shared common interests with? Those with different opinions? We live in a divisive world that is too often teaching us to stand our ground and hold true to our convictions. Maybe even seeking out the battles and arguments.  I have been contemplating this idea of expanding the table. Expanding our table. What does that look like in our own lives? 

Our text this morning is familiar one. It is one I love for many reasons. There are lots of ways we can get hung up on our ability to love, to show grace and mercy to one another. Let me love others Lord, but don’t let it come with too great a sacrifice. I want to love this person Lord, but they have hurt me so much. I want to seek grace and mercy in this situation Lord but I have been burned one too many times. I won’t be taken for a fool again. The command to love your neighbor as yourself cuts through every one of those excuses. 

My thought for us this morning is simple. We are called to expand our table. It is very easy for us to surround ourselves with those who we like, those who we get along with or those who we share common interests. It is more difficult to reach out to those on the “other side” or to those who is is uncomfortable for us to associate with. But the command to love your neighbor as yourself is without condition. 

Expanding the table requires sacrifice and a step out of comfort zone. Loving others requires us to go to difficult and uncomfortable places. Loving others sometimes requires us to take risks. To think differently, to see differently. As we gather together for worship, you have certain expectations for this time of worship. You expect to see David, Handy and myself here in worship. Two are out, but it’s not uncommon. You have heard me preach before and Daryl most ably has lead our choir. What you did not expect and were not prepared for is for me to to deliver the sermon, not from the pulpit but from a different place in our worship space. Furthermore, you were not prepared for me to be dressed as I am before you, not in a robe, but a more casual attire. For some of you, this is a surprise, but some of you have come to terms with this for todays service. But I imagine there are some that are a bit uncomfortable with this. In your mind, this is not what we should expect as we enter into worship. It has become a distraction for you. It has become uncomfortable. To expand our table requires times where we may feel uncomfortable or out of our element. It requires us to take what we have come to know and expect and turn it upside down or change it. It requires us to be open to new possibilities and ideas. 

Expanding the table means that we don’t have to change our position on what we believe. We don’t have to change our views on same sex marriage. We don’t have to change our political or social views to welcome others to our table. When we focus less on trying to change someone else beliefs or hardening down on our own then we open ourselves up to the opportunities to focus on something greater. We are able to put our common bond in Christ above all else. Expanding the table requires us to put our common bond in Christ above all else. A few years ago, when we went through that season of life in our church, Dr. Freeman kept using the phrase, “Our tent is enough for others”. I loved that thought and it has stuck in my mind to this day. Is our tent big enough to be inclusive of all? Is our table long enough to welcome all?

To answer this question, we must answer this one: What does it look like in our own lives to expand our table. 

To welcome someone regardless of their political affiliation. 

To welcome someone regardless of their sexual orientation 

To welcome someone regardless of their legal status

To welcome someone regardless of their race. 

To welcome someone closest to us who has hurt us. 

To welcome those we consider our enemies. 

To do this means we must put our own positions aside, to consider the “other side”, and to welcome with a warm embrace as Christ does. We don’t have to change from republican to democrat. We don’t have to affirm same sex marriage. We can expand our table without changing what we believe about immigration and abortion. Why is it that we are quick to offer mercy and grace to a total stranger, but to those closest to us, who have hurt us deeply, they are the last to be forgiven? 

Let me read our text for us one more time. Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest? He said to him, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind”. This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” On these two commandments hang all the law and prophets”. Before we seek to expand our table, we must ask ourselves, are we loving the Lord our God with all our heart? We must also ask how we love ourselves. Do we have a healthy view of how God sees and loves us?

How big is your table? How many seats does your table hold? Is there more room at your table? Is your table inclusive and diverse? One of the books I have been reading, is by John Pavlovitz, entitled A Bigger Table: Building Messy, Authentic, and Hopeful Spiritual Community. A must read for all. Here these thoughts from John: 

“One of the biggest, most damaging mistakes too many Christians so willingly make is assuming that God is as much of a judgmental jerk as we are. But what if we could make room for difference and space for disagreement in our spiritual communities? What if we could give permission for moral failure and freedom to not be certain, and the chance to gloriously fail without needing those things to become black marks against people or death-penalty offenses? What if we made space for people who are as messed up as we are?” Let’s focus on make our circle bigger, not smaller. Let’s be inclusive and not exclusive. Let us love our neighbor as we love ourselves, without condition. Let us love those different from us just as we love those closest to us. May we come to realize that there is room at our table. May we seek a diverse table that inclusive for all. May Your love for us be enough. Amen. 

When Loving Hurts...

"Loving can hurt, loving can hurt sometimes, but it's the only thing that I know. When it gets hard, you know it can get hard sometimes. It is the only thing that makes us feel alive." The greatest commandment, love the Lord your God and secondly, love one another. Loving others is the greatest act of humility that we can show to another. Loving others can hurt though. Loving hurts because we are human and those we love are human. We will be let down and we will let others down and when we do, it hurts. 

Being a foster parent has become the most rewarding experience in my life. It has also become the most difficult. The training can’t possibly prepare you for the gravity of the joys and pains you will experience as a foster parent. The joys of loving a child in desperate need of love. The joys of having those around you support you in your ministry to these children. The pain of watching a child hurt, doing all you can, but it is still not enough. The pain of experiencing a broken system that doesn’t always work they way we want or hope for. Being surrounded by those who love you in those difficult times but at the same time there still exists a barrier between those who love you for what you are doing and truly understand the pains and joys of being a foster parent.

Loving hurts and sometimes it hurts bad. I have shared these truths about who God is with my students in Youth Ministry. God is good. God’s ways are good. God is working all things for good.  Never in my life have I struggled so much to understand and believe this more than the past few weeks. When we struggle, these truths take on new meaning. When we struggle, our hope in who God is can become difficult to understand.

The beginning of Isaiah 43 says, when you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord, Your God. Life will be difficult. It is not a matter of if, but when. I found myself holding onto hope that God is good. But in the moment, I found it difficult to believe and accept. I felt like a “weak Christian”. I felt I should be stronger; everything I preached and proclaimed to others, must hold true to me in my struggles. But it didn’t feel that way. There were those around me who were angry for me. I was angry but that anger was not greater than the hopelessness and pain that I felt.

Through the most difficult fire and flood that I have ever walked through, there was goodness and there was hope. When we are faithful, God gives us just enough to keep going. My hopes for the situation did not turn out the way I wanted and prayed so hard for. There is still so much I don’t understand while at the same time, so much to be thankful for. People can let us down. Institutions can let us down. Those that love and care for us the most can let us down. When we strip away the layers, what is left? When the earthly expressions of love fade away or don’t seem enough, what is left? The hope that “in the depths of our soul, in the flood or fire.” The hope that says
“You’re with me and You wont let go”.

Now, on the other side of this difficult situation, I wish I could say that my prayers were answered, but I can’t. I wish I could say that coming through this situation, I am now a fully stronger, more resilient person, but I can’t. What I can say and what I do know is that time heals and perspective heals. When we go through the fire and flood and emerge from the other side we can take a step back and begin to see how God’s goodness and faithfulness holds true. “For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.” Time and perspective allows us to see glimpses of God’s goodness through the most difficult of situations.  

I now know that in my weakness, God can do the most work through me. I consider myself a stubborn and independent person. But in my weakness, it is the strength that only God can provide that will sustain me. It is that weakness that brings us to our knees. For every tear I shed during this difficult time, I left it at the foot of the cross. When we fall to our knees, the cross stands before us, stronger than ever.

The work is unfinished. There is still grief, but with time and perspective, the healing will continue. Loving hurts sometimes but what is life without love? What is life without embracing the love from others and showing that same love twofold. This is the greatest gift that we have all been given. For me, as difficult as it is, I turn to a new chapter. One that has already begun with another opportunity to show love. One that will inevitably be filled with ups and downs, mountaintop experiences and days of trudging through the valleys. “God, give us hills to climb and strength to climb them. Praise be to a God that never gives up hope even when we do. Praise be to a God that is faithful even when we are not. Praise be to a God who’s hope is found at the foot of the cross.

“I have this hope. In the depths of my soul. In the flood or the fire, You’re with me and You won’t let go.”

Orphans of God

Many of you may not know this but I have begun the process of become a licensed foster parent this fall. It has been a long process that is drawing to a close. I have completed the classes and training and submitted the paperwork. I have prepared my home and passed the inspection. Now I wait. I wait for the agency to complete their paperwork to license me and then I wait for the calll for the placement of a child. I am exited. I am nervous. I am scared. I am humbled. 

I am thankful for this calling placed on my heart to serve in this way. I am thankful for the resources I have been entrusted with and the opportunity to give more of myself. I am nervous about being able to be enough and to give and sacrifice enough. It will be an adventure, a challenge and a journey that I am ready to go on. Soon, I will begin another chapter in my life. 

I love this song, "Orphans of God". I love the reminder that we are all loved by God, no matter who we are or what we've done. It is also a reminder of the relentless grace that is offered to us. I think about the lessons of grace that I will learn in parenthood. I hope that I am able to offer the same grace that has always been offered to me. May we all take time to remember that we are loved by God. May we see the face of Christ in the lost, the hurting, the marginalized, the abused, the poor and the broken. 

Orphans of God

Who here among us has not been broken
Who here among us is without guilt or pain
So oft' abandoned by our transgressions
If such a thing as grace exists
Then grace was made for lives like this

There are no strangers
There are no outcasts
There are no orphans of God
So many fallen, but hallelujah
There are no orphans of God

Come ye unwanted and find affection
Come all ye weary, come and lay down your head
Come ye unworthy, you are my brother
If such a thing as grace exists
Then grace was made for lives like this

O blessed Father, look down upon us
We are Your children, we need Your love
We run before Your throne of mercy

And seek Your face to rise above