Beneath the Cross's Shadow* #1039

Beneath the Cross's Shadow In the quiet, unseen hours, Beneath skies of our collective being, Echoes of Hebrews, a guiding light: "God sees your work, the love in your helping hands." Volunteers walk a path not paved with gold, But rich with the soil of goodwill and grace. No wages of silver weigh their pockets down; Instead, they carry hearts heavy with hope. Artisans of the spirit, crafting day by day, Stitching warmth into cold crevices of indifference. Their hands, though empty, cradle worlds— Friendships priced beyond the folly of coins. Each act a silent sermon beneath the cross they bear, Binding together in fellowship and Christ’s love. Security found not in locks, but in open hearts, Building sanctuaries where every neighbor is kin. They give, and in giving, gain— A strange economy where compassion is currency. Kindness kindles their self-esteem, A quiet flame whispering of eternal echoes. So we stand in unending gratitude, Under the shadow of the cross where love meets us. Volunteers, the heartbeat of our church, the hands of Christ, In a world weary yet wondrous— Their legacy not in stone, but in lives touched: In giving, we receive; in serving, we find service; In loving, we are forever loved. Pastor Steven G. Lee SGMC/Corps April 26, 2024