“What brings you joy?” she asked me.
I was sitting in a room full of women, having just shared some of the trials the Lord had brought me through in recent years.
“Just in general?” I questioned.
“In ministry,” she answered. “What brings you joy in ministry?”
Oh, that’s easy, I thought and then said aloud. “It’s studying the Bible with others. There’s something about digging into Scripture both with people you know well and those you don’t—I don’t know, it transcends things. If I want to get to know someone, I can’t think of a better way to do it than around a bunch of open Bibles.” The words from Colossians 2 were swirling around my mind and came pouring out before I could stop them. But let me back up. I haven’t always felt this way about ministry or church life in general. If you’d have asked me ten years ago what brings me joy as a pastor’s wife, I’d have struggled to come up with much. The church back then was a source of deep pain, and I refused to believe it could be anything but that. I knew I couldn’t walk away—because Jesus never will. I know how Jesus feels about the church. His love is fierce and loyal. But, I didn’t know how to reconnect with my local body of believers after we’d all walked through a long season of brokenness, turmoil, and loss. I never missed a Sunday or Wednesday service, but it had been a while since my heart had been present. You can be there but not be there.
The Lord brought about a lot of healing during some book studies and small gatherings of weekly prayer among our members, but it wasn’t until I began meeting with church members each week for intentional study of Scripture that my heart began to heal. And not just heal, but actually grow in affection for my church. Where there used to be suspicion, there was now loyalty. Where cynicism reigned, now there was room for bearing up with folks. While I used to weep alone, now I shared joy and sorrow with my church without fear. There was nothing magical about it. Just an hour on Tuesdays around a table with a bunch of open Bibles and notebooks. We picked books of the Bible and went through them chapter by chapter, week by week. We kept the discussion to our study with very little chit-chat. And maybe that seems antithetical to forging friendships, but it was actually the foundation for the strongest of relationships, the fiercest of loves, the deepest of care. As the years passed and the study group eventually grew and multiplied, I realized what was happening to these people with whom I shared a pew, a communion cup, and an identity. My heart was being knitted together with theirs. And Jesus was the thread.
In Colossians 2, Paul writes encouragingly to the church in Colossae of his desire for them to be knit together in love as a body and “to reach all the riches of full assurance of understanding of the knowledge of God’s mystery, which is Christ, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge” (Col. 2:2-3). I spent a month trying to memorize those two verses earlier this year, and I struggled to wrap my mind around Paul’s use of words: knowledge, assurance, wisdom, understanding. But, as often happens when we labor through memorization, the words came together with understanding as I rolled them around in my mind for the hundredth time. Encouragement—being knit together in love—is something that happens when we have assurance of Christ and know who He is. Wisdom and understanding are sourced from Christ. And there is a corporate aspect to this—when we as a church body grow in understanding of Jesus, our hearts are encouraged and knitted together.
I’m a winter knitter. When the months turn cold in Missouri, I pull out my knitting in the evenings and work on blankets or scarves for friends and family members. As I told a friend recently, “I can knit anything in the shape of a rectangle”—which should tell you something about my skills. What I do know about knitting, though, is once something is knitted, it’s woven together quite tightly. Depending on the tension you’re using, the size of knitting needles, and the weight of the yarn, some patterns pull the stitches so tightly together that it’s difficult to unravel if you drop a stitch that you need to fix. So when Paul talks about the Colossians’ hearts being knit together in love, I get a picture of closeness. Tightness. A finished product that’s difficult to unravel. But when you couple Paul’s imagery with growing in knowledge of Jesus, you get a picture of the yarn that makes up the knitted piece. When it comes to encouragement in the church, we’ll be knit together in love when Jesus is the thread that binds us. Talking about Jesus, knowing Jesus, learning about Jesus—that changes us. We become like Him together when He is the One we’re looking at together.
“What brings you joy in ministry?” she specified.
Oh, that’s easy. It’s reaching all the riches of full assurance of understanding of the knowledge of God’s mystery, which is Christ, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. My heart is forever knitted with the hearts of the people who have opened their Bibles around my dining room table week after week after week. They grow in their knowledge of Jesus; I grow in mine. And together, we are stitched up tight, woven in closely because Jesus takes those who are far off, brings them near, and makes them family. May His work in us ever increase.
When it comes to encouragement in the church, we’ll be knit together in love when Jesus is the thread that binds us. Share on X
Glenna Marshall is married to her pastor, William, and lives in rural Southeast Missouri where she tries and fails to keep up with her two energetic sons. She is the author of The Promise is His Presence (P&R) and Everyday Faithfulness (Crossway), and Memorizing Scripture (Moody). Connect with her on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter.
