I don't remember much about that Sunday, but I do remember standing in the sanctuary during the worship service unable to do anything but weep. All around me my brothers and sisters were singing, but my tears were all I could offer God. It felt good though, as if I could somehow rely on those around me to offer what I couldn't in that moment. Over the years Taylor and I have reflected on that day and realized what a sacred moment that was. It is a picture of what the body of Christ truly is when we step in and even worship for one another - offer praises when others can't.
Yesterday was another similar moment, but this time I was the one who was able to sing. Yesterday more brave souls gathered up their broken hearts and stepped into church to face the family and the God who loves them. Yesterday I stood on the front row and sang to God about how He was good and merciful. Maybe they were able to offer these praises to God, but my guess is that tears were all they had to offer. I offered my praises to my God, but also on their behalf.