To Church

Some Spirit has sent us to this place

With hope on our faces

We come

Palms open, hearts open, we come

Seeking our selves.

What dreams drive us toward the God Who surely dwells here?

What faith touches our shoulders and gives us pause?

Perhaps the spell of light through brilliant windows,

The determined look on an acolyte’s face, the bloom of a candle flame

The sounds of children running, shrieking, laughing,

Singing, chiming

Telling stories all their own.

We come for food, yes, breathing the smells of onions frying,

Baking apples, peaches, pumpkin pie

Who is ready?  I! I!

The trust of hand passing to hand the bread of life

The cup’s purple sweetness

Palms open, hearts open

We can pull patience from the marrow of our bones

We mourn the passing of another friend

And sometimes, hand to forehead, we are humbled by forgiveness

Or we just laugh together at the joy of this fellowship

The voice of God is calling out

We are asked:  Can you?  Will you?

We didn’t know we could!  But, yes! We say. Yes!

I am here!

I can answer, ask, shop, bake, calculate, baptize, visit, give, collect, confirm, announce, come, go, drive, sing, record, sweep, scrub, climb, hammer, shovel, paint, type, play, preach, suggest, dance, reach, joke, arrange, learn, serve, teach, write, encourage, question, direct, encourage again, pray, and say “Amen.”

Palms open, hearts open

We give, we receive, we believe

Awash in the love of Christ

We find ourselves

Here.

 

Becky Bronfenbrenner  25 January 2019

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