When we were young my friends and I thought the Church was perfect.
Our eyes were wonder-filled with few expectations.
Sunday was for playing and Jesus was our superhero.
We didn’t realize that the Church would fail us in time.
Or at least we were too young to believe it.
When we grew up a little my friends and I thought we were perfect.
Our eyes were wild with unrealistic expectations.
Sunday was for sleeping, and we loved Jesus, but not His Church.
We didn’t realize that we would fail the Church in time.
Or at least we were too young to care.
When we grew up a little my friends and I got fed up with the Church.
Our eyes were painfully shut with failed expectations.
Sunday was a joke and Jesus was unimpressive.
We didn’t realize that Jesus still loved the Church even if we didn’t.
At least Jesus was jealous for us.
When we grew up a little we realized that no one and no church is perfect.
Our eyes were dazed and we started to question our expectations.
Sunday was for fools, but we were fools and Jesus still loved us.
We didn’t realize that we were the Church whether we liked it or not.
At least Jesus picked up our broken pieces.
When we grew up a little we fell in love with an imperfect Bride called “Church.”
Our eyes were filled with wonder again but with fewer expectations.
Sunday was special, but it wasn’t about Sunday anymore. It was about Jesus.
We didn’t realize that the Church looks more beautiful the longer you love Her.
At least He uses broken pieces to build His Church, and loves us anyway.
“Let us rejoice and be glad and give him glory! For the wedding of the Lamb has come, and his bride has made herself ready. ”
