Like a weathered pair of boots. Like a morning bed. Like a leather glove. Somethings just fit well.

From the moment I touched down in Albuquerque, New Mexico to the moment I flew away, I felt like family. To be honest, I didn’t know if it was commonplace to treat all visitors like you go waaaaaay back, but I was a bit taken by how we all seem to fit.

Like a seedling breaking through the ground, I began to see what what being slowly revealed. Fifteen years ago I began serving in ministry. As a teen I would volunteer in the nursery and rock crying babies to sleep so parents could sit through a church service undistracted. That’s where I met Jessica, a special need newborn with a contagious laugh. Her parents entrusted me with her and I was honored.

During that time I also participated in youth group with Gabby and her brother Damien. We made fun of each other and played during the early days of the church plant my father led. We set up chairs, we helped at church functions, and like most ministry brats, we acted like we ran the youth group.

Lo and behold, the two people I run into first at the SHE Christmas Brunch was Jessica, the baby I rocked in nursery, and Gabby, the mother/wife/photographer who used to tell me and Damien to stop acting like brats. The generation before me and the generation after me embraced in a legacy of faithfulness and commitment.

But more growth continued to flourish. One by one I met women who remembered me when I spoke at the Calvary Albuquerque youth group. Or the time I spoke in Las Cruses, New Mexico for a women’s event. Or the time I spoke at Velocity College ministry. Or the time I drove three hours into the desert to speak on an Indian reservation for at-risk youth. Or found the blog and have becoming an online friend.

And in that moment I saw something bourgeon in front of me.

The years of serving, and waiting, and planting, and waiting, and toiling, and waiting, was now ready for harvest. Young kids have becoming women, single women have become married women, and I—in some weird way—have been part of the journey. As I stared out into the banquet room full of women, I saw the generation before me and the generation after me ready for harvest. The seeds planted were now the seeds in bloom.

I returned to my hotel room following the event and could do nothing else but cry. God showed up. Again. He was faithful. Again. He did His work. Again. But for the first time in over fifteen years of ministry, I got to see the fruit of seeds planted years ago.

There were a host of old friends and a host of new friends and blog readers I got to meet and here are few of the amazing blog readers. And in true Bianca-form I think I squealed and gave hugs to everyone I had a chance to meet. If I embarrassed anyone, it couldn’t have been more than I embarrassed myself.

If you are serving in ministry, please know that our labor is not in vain. We plant seeds that we won’t see germinate for years. And on few occasions, if we’re lucky, we see a seedling break ground as a reminder that when we are faithful, He does a the work.

For those who were in Albuquerque, please know it was my honor to serve you. A special shout-out to the amazing staff at Calvary Albuquerque, Lenya, and the amazing women of SHE ministries! And to my bloggie friends, I love you too!

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