My First Victory Parade

Just a few months after we moved to Boston, we got to experience the otherworldly Super Bowl win by Tom Brady against the Atlanta Falcons. If you don't remember, let me remind you. down by 25 with about 17 minutes left in the game, the Patriots came back to win. It was the most incredible comeback I have ever witnessed.

After the win, the traditional duck boat parade was in order. It was a typical New England February afternoon: About 34 degrees and raining. The weather couldn't have been much worse. Did that stop rabid New Englanders from coming out and celebrating their Super Bowl champs? Absolutely not.

I was right there with them. I couldn't not go. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Surely Tom Brady would retire, and New England wouldn't win anymore (Alright, bad prediction on my part). So, I got my, then 9-year-old and 6-year-old, jumped on the T, rode down to Downtown Crossing, and crammed shoulder to shoulder with the drunkest and rowdiest Pats fans ever. Plus, we were wet, cold, and miserable. Honestly, looking back, probably not the best place for kids, but we were there and determined to cheer on this epic team. How could we endure for hours in that circumstance? We knew the end of the story. The Pats had won and the victory parade was coming!

Difficult circumstances become more endurable if we know the end of the story. Tomorrow, I think the story of how an ancient church endured overwhelming circumstances can help you endure yours. I hope you'll join us for worship at 10 AM.

Eventually, the duck boats made it to us. We witnessed shirtless Gronk and saw Tom hoisting the Lombardi Trophy in all its glory. Should I have brought my kids? Probably not. Was it worth it? 100 times yes. That parade turned me into a Patriots fan.

I hope to see you tomorrow!