But inside that unadorned room was the most exquisite church: people of worship and prayer, people honest about sin, people pleading for God’s mercy, people proclaiming God’s glory, people fellowshipping in His grace. Breathtaking! Yes, I stepped into that church and my heart quickened from the beauty around me—the beauty of God’s holy people.

We stepped inside and beauty stirred my heart. Worship seemed the only appropriate response. It was clear that an artist had spent months, even years, with tools that chiselled, adorned, and beautified. Each detail, lovingly and carefully carved. In that room, the light glimmered and shone, reflecting the beauty of His handiwork.

The room I’m speaking of was a school gymnasium.

This past Sunday my husband was guest preaching at a church in Toronto that meets in a school, and their corporate worship service is held in the gym. This gym is a large, light room that is clean and pleasant with large windows lining both sides. It is a simple room that would easily go unnoticed.

But inside that unadorned room was the most exquisite church: people of worship and prayer, people honest about sin, people pleading for God’s mercy, people proclaiming God’s glory, people fellowshipping in His grace. Breathtaking! Yes, I stepped into that church and my heart quickened from the beauty around me—the beauty of God’s holy people.

Later that same day, by pure (sovereign) coincidence, Justin and the kids and I took the subway downtown and found ourselves wandering into one of Toronto’s historic cathedrals. Though different, beauty was in that place too. The “sanctuary” was empty, and our footsteps, light as they were, seemed to disrupt a quiet awe. Magnificent was the handiwork of the artists: ornate woodwork, detailed stained glass, majestic vaulted ceilings.
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