The comings, goings and happenings at a typical Sunday morning church service are complex for me. Two streams: [people and tasks] converge into one intense experience that leaves me exhilarated and expended.

No matter how prepard I am for the tasks of a church gathering, there is more to be done or something to fix. And, there are so many people needs. I get to pray for people, direct people, listen to people, meet people, shake hands, strain to remember names, wonder at the sudden aloofness of some, consider those who I miss, squat down to greet children, wonder where my kids are, thank people for coming, thank people for serving, recruit people for the next thing, speak to people, encourage the downtrodden, listen to the miraculous stories of God’s intervention and hope for others to experience grace in their trials. Each week I wince, I laugh, I smile, I work to stay focused, I wonder, I connect and I regret something I say or do.

It’s quite a mashup of experiences.

Yesterday was Easter. Double the complexity: more intricate presentation and service. More people. More of it all.

But I am remembering ONE conversation and face. She serves quietly. And she carries hope within her. She told me how God had done a miracle. How he had done what seemed impossible. In the masses, with my team waiting for me to do a service review, with adjustments to the next service needed to be made, with time ticking, I stopped. I hugged.

I looked her in the eyes and told her how grateful I was to hear her brief story.

Her smile is emblazoned upon my mind, bringing joy to me even as I type.

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He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us. (2 Corinthians 1:4 NLT)

It is easy for me to look at the masses and for me to expend energy and time into caring for the whole. It is good that I lead the whole. But, let me never forget that this is about the ONE.