But then I looked at the altar. I looked at the peeling paint on the ceiling. I realized the church was empty. The congregation had moved to the fellowship hall because the roof in the sanctuary was too dangerous to gather under.

I had the building, but I didn’t have a roof. I didn’t have the money to fix the things that actually mattered.

I sat there for a long time. The rain tapped against the stained glass. I was the owner of a building that was still falling apart, and I had drained every single resource I could scrape together to get it.

I am sitting here right now, wondering what I actually accomplished. I saved the sanctuary from being condos, but I am not sure I saved the church. The developer is gone, but the repairs are waiting.

I guess I bought myself a pile of work and a very old problem. I think I’m okay with that, but I honestly don’t know yet.