I typically attend a Lutheran church in a fairly well off area. We are a comfortable middle class family with two working cars. I don’t have to shop at a thrift store unless I want to. I don’t worry about how to pay the bills each month or what my kids are going to eat. Most of my friends are just like me.
I realize how blessed I am, but sometimes it can be hard to see God at work when I’m comfortable, safe and sound inside my bubble.
Last weekend I attended church with a friend in a town about four hours away. On Sunday morning we drove through some areas of town that compelled me to lock the car doors.
The service was not my usual liturgical style and worship was far from the typical hymns we generally sing. The ministry caters to recent parolees from prison. Many of the members live in church-owned trailers. Some are unemployed. Several have battled addiction to a variety of things nearly beyond my comprehension.
I was way outside my bubble.
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