This weekend, I saw Jesus. Yes, I do mean literally. He was embodied in various members of my community who spent long hours of this hot holiday weekend packing up and moving a family that needed to get out of their apartment and on with their lives. We're not talking an easy move, either- 2 truckloads so far, and tons and tons of packing and sorting. Grace was flying thick and free when I stopped by yesterday, and I didn't hear one person yelling! H even got in on the action with some late night truck loading and unloading.
So my question is, if we are being God's hands and feet, how come our muscles are the ones that ache?