He Restores My Soul

I thought I would take this opportunity to introduce myself a little more personally. As Reverend Jennie mentioned when she introduced me to the congregation on August 2nd, stepping into the role of Director of Communications is particularly meaningful to me because Northbrook has been a pillar in my life since I was two years old. I started at the Preschool, and we later joined the church when I was five. In many ways, I have spent almost my entire life growing up here.

During my interview, I was asked, “if you were to tell someone about Northbrook, what would you say?” Instantly overcome with emotion, I choked out that it is the most loving and supportive place. This little church in the pines has given me lifelong friendships, seen me through numerous losses, high school and college graduations, starting my career, and all the little moments in between. It is home. And now? I get to come home in a different capacity.
 
If I could tell my younger self sitting in the pew on Sunday morning, one day you will be on staff here, I probably wouldn’t have believed me. It is exactly the job I wanted in my mid-twenties. That’s how God works though, isn’t it? Slowly, deliberately, in the right time. There were still things I needed to do, people to meet and things to learn before God moved me out of one season and into another.
 
Psalm 23 has always been one of my favorite passages, but the words “He restores my soul” have felt particularly close to me in this season. Restoration doesn't necessarily mean getting everything back exactly the way it was. Sometimes restoration looks like being led somewhere new. Sometimes it looks like realizing that the thing you thought you were losing was actually making room for something you needed.

Which brings me back to Sunday's sermon, and the weeds.

I have been thinking about the image of pulling weeds in a garden. Pulling weeds isn't really the point of gardening. We don't pull weeds just to have an empty garden. We pull them so that there is room for something else to grow.
And maybe that is part of what God has been teaching me in this season. There are things we must release. There are things we need to trust Him with. And sometimes, after the weeds have been pulled, there is a period of simply tending the soil and waiting to see what grows.

That is what makes stepping into this role at Northbrook feel so significant to me. It feels like a season of tending the soil. After a season of letting go and learning to trust, I feel like God has brought me home to a place that has always been a source of love, community, and belonging. And in some ways, this season feels like an opportunity for restoration—not just for the work I am doing, but for my soul.

For most of my life, Northbrook has been a place where I have been cared for. Now I get to help tell its stories, connect its people, and hopefully help make room for whatever God is growing here next.

I don't know exactly what that will look like. I am learning to be okay with that. Maybe that is part of the tending, too: being present in the season God has given us instead of rushing ahead to see what comes next.

So, for those who have known me for most of my life and those I am just getting to know, thank you for welcoming me home in this new way. I am grateful for the opportunity to serve this church, to help tell its stories (and yours), and to see what God will grow here next.
​
And for now, I am trying to remember to slow down and savor this season. Because seasons change. People change. Things don't last forever. But perhaps part of the gift is getting to be fully present for the season we are in and trusting God with whatever comes next.
 
Yours in Christ,
Lauren Dempsey
Director of Communications