The desperate man sits in the corner of the church assembly. Dry mouth, moist palms. He scarcely moves. He feels out of place in a room of disciples, but where else can he go? He just violated every belief he cherishes. Hurt every person he loves. Spent a night doing what he swore he’d never do. And now, on Sunday he sits and stares. He doesn’t speak. If these people knew what I did….
Scared, guilty, and alone.
He could be an addict, a
thief, a child-beater, a wife-cheater.
He could be a she -- single,
pregnant, confused. He could be any
number of people, for any number of people come to God’s people in his
condition -- hopeless, hapless, helpless.
How will the congregation
react? What will he find? Criticism or compassion? Rejection or acceptance? Raised eyebrows or extended hands?
-- Max Lucado in Facing Your Giants