Gobsmacked

When I first held my newborn daughters, my heart ached with unspeakable joy and unshakable awe. I couldn’t stop praying (or smiling through tears) either time: thanking God for what was tucked in my arms, praying for her future.

This life before me was worthy of my very best. I was, from the very first moment, hopelessly in love and utterly gobsmacked.

And why not? This was real. I was holding a gift in my arms from the giver of all good gifts, and I could barely remember to breathe. Before me was a swaddled piece of art.

How could I not acknowledge this? How could I not celebrate this? How could I not praise God in this moment?

Robin and I recently learned that our eldest daughter is expecting a baby girl of her own. From everything I’ve heard from friends, watching your child become a parent is another one of those gobsmacked moments in life. And I for one, cannot wait.

But there’s another masterpiece in our midst, one we often overlook. Or perhaps we are so familiar with her flaws, that we forget the love and intentionality with which she, too, was designed.

I’m talking about the Church.

Why don’t I drop to my knees thinking about the care and intricate planning God put into the forming of the Body of Christ? Why am I not undone by this piece of art?

The network of lives God has woven around us is no mere accident. It is the obvious handiwork of an artisan. The whole fabric of this community was fearfully and wonderfully made. It is as glorious an expression of God’s genius as anything we encounter in the rest of creation.

Stop reading this and look around you. (Okay, if there’s nobody else in the room or you’re reading this at some coffee shop full of strangers, don’t literally look around you.)

But I challenge you to spend some time this week noticing the people God has placed in your proximity. Discover (again) how shockingly, beautifully different they are from you.

Allow yourself to be a little awestruck or at the very least, amused by all the quirky perspectives and impressive abilities represented in those relationships.

We, the Body of Christ, may not be as cute as a baby wrapped in a cuddly blanket or as visually stunning as a famous work of art… but we are still a sight to behold.

Never forget: we who follow Jesus are like a beautifully woven tapestry—so many different places, colors, opinions, and voices, giving texture and contrast. Yet for all our many differences, we have one thing in common: life-giving love courses through each of us who believe.

Let’s remember to celebrate this strange assembly of lives and stories He has put together. And who knows? Maybe we’ll even find ourselves a little gobsmacked.