JESUS FIRST AND A HEALING HUG

It was 9:05 am, and I was still debating whether I wanted to wake my husband up to go to church. I was tired, I was worried that I might have tummy issues during the service, and as an introvert, attending a new church is always a stressful thing. But I kept telling myself that going to church was not about us but about worshiping God and coming together with other believers. And oh no, we were down to the wire if we were going to get ready in time for the service.

Funny how Satan seems to rear his ugly head full force on Sunday mornings when you're trying to get to church. Is it just us, or do you also feel the spiritual warfare, complete with fighting over the silliest of things and insecurities that come out of nowhere? This morning was no exception.
We arrived at church on time and made our way down the pews to the section where my husband's wheelchair could fit, of course in the front, and of course with all the eyes of strangers following us to our seats. Thankfully, I had called ahead and asked about wheelchair accessibility earlier in the week, so the pastor greeted us by name, and it helped make things more comfortable.
The service was over and my first instinct was to get to the car as quickly as possible (again, two introverts), but I knew that I needed to make an effort. And well, after almost a month without sugar, my husband was seriously eyeing the cake, cookies and those powdered sugar wedding cookies lining the table out in the coffee hour meeting room. We stood there for a few minutes by the coffee station, feeling even more uncomfortable, when all of a sudden, people started coming up to us, saying they wanted to come meet us. We talked to the pastor, some of his family members plus some of the nicest ladies and their husbands.
We quickly went from feeling awkward to accepted, cared about, and at home.
I had put on my mask halfway through the service because- oh boy, there was lots of coughing around us, and my next treatment is tomorrow. I mentioned to a few people that I was wearing it so I didn't risk getting sick before a "procedure" I was having tomorrow. They were all so sweet and said they'd pray for me, and then the pastor asked more. Well, of course, I couldn't help it; I ended up telling him about my diagnosis, and that man's compassion still makes me smile. He listened to my story and then prayed over me, right in the middle of coffee hour, with his full voice, not even a whisper, as if to allow the entire congregation to be part of this all. It just felt so good to have him be there for us and genuinely care.
Then his mom came up to me, and let me tell you, the apple really doesn't fall far from the tree, especially in this case. The sweetest, kindest woman I've ever met. She welcomed us and hugged me, and then she asked me more about the "procedure." I told her I had cancer and had been in treatment for a year. Oh no, she said. She was silent for a few moments. Her eyes welled up with tears, and she asked if she could pray over me as well. Now, I was crying and so touched. She said she was so sorry and wished she could do something for me, but she knew praying would be the best thing. I agreed.
Then she gave me the biggest hug. It was a long one, the kind of hug that you'd get from your mom, only both my parents passed on more than two years ago. Well before my diagnosis.
I thought about that hug and her words as we drove home, and I was overwhelmed with emotion, realizing that through all of this, I didn't have my mom or dad to give me that hug. To be there for me through the life-changing diagnosis, to lean on when I heard my cancer had spread again, to give me the unconditional love of a parent. Sure, I was glad they didn't have to see me going through such tough times, but there is nothing like a mother's hug. The kind of hug my mom used to give me when I was hurt or sad when I was a little girl. Sometimes, all it took was a big hug to assure me everything would be alright.
Jesus knows about these types of hugs, and he knew what I needed today in my place of brokenness. That hug from the pastor's mom meant everything. It put me at ease and reassured me that everything would be alright.
Just imagine if we would have said let's forget about church and we'll try again next week. Or never even attended at all?
Putting Jesus first isn't always the easiest thing to do (especially if you're tired, sick, or just plain shy), but when you do, your relationship with Him will always grow deeper, and unexpected blessings can come your way.
But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. -Matthew 6:33
What are some ways that you can put Jesus first in your life this week?