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