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This weekend was the great ROOTED launch. It’s a marathon weekend. One where we register people on Sunday first, second, and third service and then head upstairs to the office to try and get them all plugged into small groups before they come back for the big kickoff at 6pm. The goal is to have everyone plugged into a group, name tags printed, facilitator (small group leader) lists ready and be IN the facilitator dinner by 5pm. IT IS BATTY. But it’s also amazing because in the flurry there always seem to be these amazing moments where it somehow works. The wifi will NOT let us access google drive and then whoop we are back…I can’t place one more person in a group effectively and Amanda walks into the office and confidently takes on the challenge…the printer absolutely WILL NOT accept Cheri’s passcode and we try it one more time, change the paper orientation and boom the printer starts spitting them out. The tears are brimming just under the surface the entire day because the stress is palpable, but it’s so worth it to know that at the end of the day, people will be sitting with new groups of people that may feel more like family than strangers at the end of these next 10 weeks and lives will be forever changed by His hands. THIS IS ROOTED. 

While I was on the plaza getting people registered, there was a moment God orchestrated specifically for me. It was relatively short, and it wasn’t at all grandiose, but I am so grateful that I didn’t miss it. There was a lovely women with older hands who came up to the table. She was in a wheelchair, but she sparkled nonetheless. She told me she had already done rooted and that it was the perfect encapsulation of the church - young and old, married and single, grandparents and children, together. Then she spoke and I became teary. Her exact words were, “In God’s family, we all fit.” She took my hand in hers and give it a little tap, then wheeled away. That was it. A beautiful little moment, divinely sent to my heart, to breathe live and remind me to keep going, to whisper that He sees me, and that I still have a place.