Sunday, December 2, 2007

Dear God,

Hands. Three year-old hands. Men's hands. Women's hands. Teens' hands. Gnarled hands. All reaching out for Holy Communion. I was conscious of all the hungry hands this morning. As I stood with the Holy Supper in my hands, I realized just what it was I was offering. It was not my meal, but yours they wanted.

Their eyes danced as I challenged them after feeding them. "Go and be light to the world." I whispered to each one. Carrying the single match in their pockets as a sign of their desire to allow you to light a fire in their hearts, I believe they sincerely wanted to be the light.

There are some moments in worship where I truly sense your mysterious presence. I see and hear, feel your grace. I know you are in the pew, in the pulpit, the choir loft, at the organ. You visit, stir hearts, whisper faith.

It is days like today I know the awesome blessing it is to be a pastor.

I held you
in my hands today.
A holy mystery.
I offered you
to each one
who stood before me.
Old and young,
all hungry
for the light.
The room
was filled with light,
your light.
I watched it leave,
out the door,
in the car,
to homes
and neighborhoods everywhere.
The light in the streets.
Jesus.

Love, Andrea