Our congregation is wrapping up a great big renovation project this week. The whole process has seemed almost miraculous to me–walls and windows and carpet and tile appearing and disappearing day by day; familiar spaces made new.
Of course, there is a lot of mundane in the midst of all that miraculous. On Monday night, a group of intrepid Lutherans gathered to move furniture and filing cabinets and boxes and boxes (and boxes) of books from every corner of the building into the new office spaces. It was heavy, sweaty, hard work.
And here’s the thing: it was not the first time most of those boxes and desks and filing cabinets have been moved during this remodeling project. It was the second or even the third. But every time, people show up. They carry heavy things and they advise you about polyurethane finish and they wipe down dusty bookshelves with damp cloths.
That is faithfulness.
“My husband lived here for three years,” she said, glancing around the memory care facility I was visiting yesterday. “He’s gone now, but I still help out.” And then she went out into the garden, where the sun beat down and the residents sat with their lemonade in the shade. She joined other volunteers and who were planting the flowers the residents had chosen earlier in the day. It was dirty, sweaty, hard work.
And here’s the thing: her husband was gone. But she was still there. She was still showing up. And so are the others–the ones whose husbands or wives remain. Every month or every week or every day, they show up. They hold hands and they adjust blankets and they visit with other people’s relatives, too.
That is faithfulness. Carrying heavy things and sticking your hands in the dirt and just showing up.
We are witnesses of these things. This generosity, this faithfulness, this love.
Thanks be to God!
Where have you witnessed faithfulness lately?