In this City

"Greater things have yet to come/And greater things are still to be done in this city" --From Chris Tomlin's "God of this City"

We were singing and praying tonight while gathered with people from different churches who believe God is going to do a mighty work here. In our city.

That means our homes. And, more importantly, our families.

Gran-Gran was holding sleepy Ben in the back of the room and Cate had been snacking on fruit snacks and a cereal bar. My 3-year-old girl noticed Gran-Gran and went over to her, pulled up a nearby chair and said, "Sit down, Gran-Gran."

I saw this happen. And a smiled. Then cried. I walked over and said, "Cate, you are so sweet to give Gran-Gran a chair." She noticed a tear fall from my eye and said, "Momma, you sad?"

"No, honey, I am happy. You are so sweet to give Gran-Gran a chair."

My heart was so full. Cate noticed Gran-Gran could use a place to sit down and provided it for her.

Oh I wish I always noticed when someone I loved needed something and took a break from my own snacking to provide. And, really, for my neighbors and strangers. We are called to serve. And give. And provide. Regardless of what we are doing.

Because that is where this call begins. In the ordinary moments. With an extraordinary God.

Since Granddaddy died a little more than a month ago, Cate has mentioned the pens he carried in his front pocket that he used to help her write her ABCs. And she mentioned something about his phone, which she loved to use to listen to the Murray State fight song. But she hasn't asked much about why he's not here, accepting that he's with Jesus in heaven and that we'll see him again one day. I suppose that's child-like faith.

Yet tonight she realized Gran-Gran needed to be cared for. And that is exactly how we cope. With losing Granddaddy. With anything that disrupts our plans. With realizing God is working and moving and challenging. We take care of people and let them take care of us.

In our family.

In our home.

In our city.

And it was through some songs sung mostly with strangers and the kind act of a 3-year-old who is independent and loving that God stirred my heart. Greater things are indeed yet to come, meaning tomorrow will be even better than today, which, really, has been pretty great to me.