Whitney Williams - A foretaste of glory, divine

NICK EICHER, HOST: Today is Tuesday, March 8th. Good morning! This is The World and Everything in It from listener-supported WORLD Radio. I’m Nick Eicher.

MARY REICHARD, HOST: And I’m Mary Reichard.

The church is filled with all sorts of people, including distracted ones. Exhibit A? WORLD commentator Whitney Williams.

WHITNEY WILLIAMS, COMMENTATOR: I have to admit, the Sunday morning crowd at my church can be a bit distracting at times. When I should be settling my mind in preparation for the sermon, I find myself thinking about my brothers and sisters and their stories. From the outside, it may not look like I’m worshiping appropriately. Focus, Whitney! But I assure you, my soul is rejoicing.

For instance, here come Chase and Melissa down the aisle. They’re running a little late because they were serving at kids’ check-in. As we continue singing, my mind takes me back to their newborn son’s graveside service almost 10 years ago. At the grieving mother’s request, the ladies from our home group prepared hot ham sammies for lunch after the service—you know, the baked ones made with Hawaiian Rolls, ham, Swiss cheese, poppy seeds, and an extraordinary amount of butter? A bit of physical comfort from their loving God on a bitter day. He did not despise their broken hearts. “Though He slay me, I will trust in Him,” their continued presence here preaches.

Oh, and over there, a widow in her 30s lifts her hands to the Lord. “Is she hungry or filled right now?” I wonder. Maybe it’s a bit of both. I’m spurred to stop and pray. Her little girl, now without an earthly father, dances to the music alongside two little girls adopted out of foster care. Their mother is also a young widow. Shared suffering binds the five of them, I’m sure of it. We’ve barely spoken—these young widows and I—yet, God speaks to me through them: “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”

To my left, I see an adulterous wife, repentant, forgiven, and embraced by her husband. “Forgive, as the Lord forgave you.”

A few seats down from them, a young single woman who suffered sexual abuse as a child. According to a testimony she shared a few months back, she’s learning to release feelings of shame, and finding peace and healing. “You aren’t winning, Satan.”

I spot two different cancer survivors—one of them has curly hair now. “Struck down, but not destroyed.”

As our pastor begins preaching, a little girl, who just two weeks ago underwent brain surgery, bounces past my husband and I, oblivious to the prayers these two strangers offered on her behalf. “Thank you for your mercy, Lord.”

Several interracial couples speak volumes. “A chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation …”

I see addicts, no longer addicted. Teens with suicidal thoughts lifted out of the muck and mire. Sinners redeemed, set free. Oh, what a foretaste of glory, divine.

Behind me, a young, wheelchair-bound man, emits both moans and sounds of glee … His mother gently pats his hand, uses a handkerchief to manage his uncontrolled drooling, and offers him soft, soothing shushes.

It all reminds me of a hymn I used to sing growing up.

“Oh, God, how you love us,” I think to myself, as I refocus my attention on my pastor, echoes of mercy and whispers of love resounding all around me.

This is our story, this is our song.

I’m Whitney Williams.

WORLD Radio transcripts are created on a rush deadline. This text may not be in its final form and may be updated or revised in the future. Accuracy and availability may vary. The authoritative record of WORLD Radio programming is the audio record.