Missing the Call

I feel your nudge

As the new widow leaves 

knowing part of her light bill is paid

I hear your sigh

As the mentally ill sister 

leaves with soap for her laundry

I hear your tears

As I close my eyes to the pain in front of me 

in the one fresh from prison

I am convicted

When I am reminded of my call

To feed the hungry

Clothe the naked

Heal the sick

Visit the prisoner

I am ashamed

When I see you and fail to love

When I give things

And withhold my heart

Tear down my walls

That I might give me

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

Little of it at home or on the road

Most of it in a place many find hopeless

Much of it watching my baby mother her baby

Many hurts

Lots of anguish

Anxiety and fear

Dancing with hope and prayer

In moments of doubt

Lifted by prayer of friend and stranger

Hospital time so different than mine

Day blends to night and back again

Many tears and fears

Trying to remember God is in control

Yet arguing that my will is better

In the end God is glimpsed in the little things

The smile of the one bringing clean towels

The touch of the greeter

The kind words of the healer

The knowing glance of another ‘ama

The meal brought by a friend

The gift of a stranger

The healing of our precious miracle

Many lessons learned

Memories made

Yet next vacation

I’d rather have shade

Inspired by a comment made by CW

Waiting Again

Sitting here again

Seeing the worry on your sweet mama’s face

So painful to see

This necessary thing so hard

Letting you go

Nearly tears her in two

Now the new phase of waiting

All is well we hear

Yet can’t wait to hold you near

What a gift you are

Praise God for a mother’s trust in her heart

As the Spirit whispered, “go.”

An Amazing Gift

Tonight I had the privilege of celebrating the Eucharist on the anniversary of my ordination to the priesthood.  As I participated in this sacred and timeless prayer I was once again humbled at the gift of being able to do so.  

The day started with a question by a colleague of what encourages me about my church or denomination.  I have to be honest that it took me a while to come up with an answer.  We have been torn asunder by conflict and politics.  We have argued heatedly about how to spend “our” money.  I have been ashamed at times by my actions and those of my brothers and sisters in Christ about the poor witness we are to God’s love story.

I answered the question, yet as the day went on it was much like a piece of sand stuck in my shoe.  It was just enough to remind me I needed to do something with it, but not quite irritating enough to handle immediately.

As I stood at the altar tonight it hit me.  I am encouraged that all these years later God looks past what is on the outside and sees the heart.  God loves and uses broken people to build God’s kingdom.  God doesn’t see failure but rather a chance for a new beginning.  Even when we turn away, God continues to seek.

As I prayed the words of that beautiful prayer I was also reminded that this journey must be done in community.  It was in the love and support of family, friends, strangers, and mentors that I am able to share those words with this part of God’s family.  As I invited others to take part in this sacred ministry a glimpse of those who walked the journey with me flashed through my mind.  Each of those faces Christ to me along the way.

And as I shared the body and blood of Christ I saw Christ looking back at me and I was brought to me knees.