Before services began the other day, my mind drifted to the many church buildings I have visited over the years and especially the ones where I called home. The little country one in Heath, KY, where my dad preached, the huge building where my grandfather preached in Paducah, and others sprinkled across the country. So many buildings and so many wonderful people brought to mind some beautiful memories.

That day, I sat beside my youngest child and looked around the auditorium where some of the best people you’ll ever meet come together to combine different stories of details and struggles into one room.

One beautiful room, not because of the carpet, pews, or stained glass, but because we share the same father. We’re certain that, out of a love we’ll never understand, he sent his son who lived, died, and is returning. We know it to be true. We know that God is faithful. We know he won’t fail. We believe.

I have been in a lot of rooms over my lifetime. Rooms where new lives were just beginning. Rooms of grief where the family filled the first few rows and friends filled the rest. Locked rooms where I was the only one with the freedom to leave after a set amount of prayer and study time. So many rooms have filled our lives, but none offer the peace and hope of the room where every knee is bowed to the same God out of the same awe and reverence.

That room is also where we’re reminded that we’re not alone in this journey. Some of us will risk persecution and even death to join with others in a similar room this week. They will hide their Bibles and glance over their shoulders knowing that this may be the last place they will ever go. But they will go regardless. Because when we’re together, we are strong.

Whenever and wherever you’re able to enter that room, let God’s story change your life. But don’t leave the hope you find there. Take it out into a broken and dying world. Remember, our mission isn’t to enter that room, it’s to leave it and build more.

–Paula Harrington @ www.forthright.net