Being in Manila this weekend I knew I would miss Heart of God Church; I knew I'd miss Pastors; I knew I would sorely, sorely miss the strong presence of God brought down by hungry hearts desiring to touch God.
In a state of nostalgia and home-sickness, one begins to pine for even the smaller details.
For one, my ears were itching without hearing "Yes" and "Amen" or the loud shouts of enthused worshipers praising God. I also couldn't help but miss our men and women in black smile-y-ly greeting everyone "Welcome to Heart of God Church! This way please" not to mention the Ops Teams scurrying around before service to ensure everything is just right and gathering just before doors open to pray (very loudly) and commit the service to God. I missed our Worship Team not for its musical excellence but for their ability to bring the people into the presence of God. I missed the powerful (yet relevant) word preached from the pulpit every week.
How privileged we are to worship in an atmosphere of faith and love every week. I miss my home.
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