Last week, we had the privilege of witnessing something I wish every one of you could have seen.
Nine churches serving through Alongside Families. Six hostings taking place in a single week. And four hosting meetings that left me genuinely overwhelmed by the people God has brought into this ministry.
We sat with people who have jobs to get to, children to raise, responsibilities to manage, and lives that are already full. Yet there they were, making room in their schedules, their homes, and their hearts for families they had only just met.
We watched volunteers listen carefully, ask thoughtful questions, work through unfamiliar circumstances, and consider how they could best support both children and their parents. We watched churches come together to make sure families facing difficult moments would not have to face them alone.
And I kept thinking about how beautiful it was to witness the local Church at work. Different congregations, different gifts, different people, all coming together to extend the love of Christ in practical and personal ways.
But here's something else I was reminded of that week:
This work is beautiful. And this work is not perfect.
There are complicated circumstances, unexpected changes, difficult conversations, and moments when we simply don't know what to do next. Sometimes our best efforts don't unfold the way we hoped. Sometimes we misunderstand one another. Sometimes we discover that what a family needs is different from what we initially thought.
And that's part of serving real people in real circumstances. We were never called to have all the answers.
I look at our volunteers and see everyday heroes. People who willingly step into another family's difficult circumstances, often at considerable personal sacrifice. And I mean that sincerely.
But here's something I want us to hold onto: We can celebrate heroic acts of love without believing we are the heroes of someone else's story.
There is an important difference.
The families we serve are not projects to complete or problems to solve. They are mothers and fathers with their own stories, strengths, wisdom, hopes, and God-given dignity. Our role is to come alongside them, listen well, offer what we can, and honor their ability to make decisions for their own families.
Sometimes that means providing a safe place for a child to stay. Sometimes it means offering encouragement, helping a parent navigate resources, or simply being a consistent presence when life feels uncertain. And sometimes it means recognizing our own limitations, asking for help, or acknowledging that we don't have the right answer.
As Alongside Families continues to grow, I want us to be just as intentional about growing in wisdom and understanding as we are about growing in the number of families we serve.
Because serving well requires more than willingness. It requires humility, discernment, preparation, and a commitment to keep learning.
The more we understand the families we serve, the challenges they face, and the responsibilities of our individual roles, the better equipped we are to offer support that truly honors their dignity.