Visible and invisible blessings

As we recently passed the six-year mark of worshiping as a new mission congregation in Lehi, Utah, I find myself talking to our gracious God about different things than I would have expected at this point in our ministry.

When we moved across the country to start a new church, we had hopes, dreams, and plans. We wouldn’t say they were overly lofty plans—they reflected what we thought made good sense with the information we had. We had a rapidly-growing community and a family happy to help. I talked to God about the visible blessings he gave us: riches poured out in a beautiful setting, a fast-growing school system for our young kids, and what was sure to be scores of people longing to hear the Good News.

Fast-forward to 2025, and now I talk to God about all the change our small mission church is going through. I ask for patience as we get plenty of visitors but not exactly scores of folks longing to join. I ask for humility as we reach out to those who aren’t able to reach back. I seek God’s wisdom and assurance while as a congregation we look for different opportunities to share our space and rent with community partners on evenings and weekends.

I thank God for his invisible kingdom found in visitors who maybe come one time but leave with a message they had never heard before. I humbly give thanks for the dozens of people who return for special services but aren’t really looking for a new church.

I thank God for his visible kingdom: for the respite our church provides for those of us living in a hidden and unexplored culture in Utah County; for our established members and the new who come with questions and seek clarity; for the random texts, phone calls, or e-mails from long-time connections who have questions about something they heard at one of our services years ago. I thank God for his patience in my life as he continually helps us grow even in the face of what seems like frequent failures.

I thank God for unexpected days like Nov. 3, 2024, All Saints Sunday. For some reason, our worship space was full. It wasn’t all familiar faces. There were new families too who were joining us for the first time. Extra service folders were hastily printed. The service focused on Psalm 23 and the harsh reality of the valley of the shadow of death and the only answer found in our Good Shepherd. The sermon was plain talk about sin and grace, law and gospel. There were tears, more than in any other service.

Later conversations with one of the families would reveal why the message had seemed so personal but exactly what they needed from God’s Word. On what seemed like an unlikely Sunday for outreach, the Holy Spirit worked through the Word as God has promised he would. Two new families who visited for the first time on All Saints Sunday have continued to come back. They have started taking Bible Basics classes and are well on their way to becoming members.

I talk to God about a lot of change, some expected, but most of it unexpected and completely undeserved. Just like his grace. Which thankfully never changes.

Written by Rev. Dan Heiderich, home missionary at Good News Lutheran Church in Lehi, Utah