To some, my husband represents the church
For good or ill.
He’s the backbone, the face, the new(ish) generation of leaders
And the future of the church.
Or maybe he’s a backwards facing anachronism,
The Millennial keeping a Boomer’s putrid fantasies alive.
To me he is the sexy punster,
The tickling terror,
The joy of my days.
He loves the bride of Christ,
But cannot hide her flaws from his eyes.
His days are spent struggling gently with her,
Pushing her to be better without shoving so hard she fights him.
The groom is waiting for her.
Each of us in our way strives to ready her - and ourselves, for we are a part of her - for the great wedding.
May the love of Christ destroy the church’s rotten parts and renew her strength and beauty.