Sunday, July 6, 2008

Dear God,

The reunion nearly over, many family members came to my church (not really my church but you know what I mean). I've never had so many relatives gather to worship together since Grandma died. And there they were sitting together, singing, praying, listening. Someone asked me if I was nervous. I answered. "I'm completely calm and happy."

My two sisters didn't speak for about 15 years. They sat together, sang together. I looked out at them and my heart was so full I thought I would explode.

Family just kept arriving, one after the other, two late, four later and four even later. But they were there, I'm sure to join me but also to be with each other, yet another "activity" to participate in. Twenty five of them.

Funny. The theme of the day was Peace. The songs: Peace like a River, Peace in the Valley, Let There be Peace, all planned long before I knew our family would join in worship. St. Paul talking about peace with God. Ours was a family at peace.

I preached, felt so comfortable in my skin, so contented, so in love with you for your reconciling work. And then I went behind the altar, lifting up the bread and wine, a broken body for a broken people, for a family just like mine. I stepped down to the aisle and my family began to come, one after the other. My aunt had tears dripping down her cheeks, "Oh Andy, this is such an honor." She told me as she took the bread and juice. "I love you." My other aunt said as she partook. My sister who stayed away from the family for more than 15 years stood in front of me and reached out her hand for some of that life-giving bread. My cousin and I smiled at one another as tears welled in our eyes. Oh how hungry she has been for you for so many years since the betrayal in her family. And my little second cousin (not really little, she's 44) broken from years of hurt stepping forward, knowing this drink is the only drink for those who want healing. My 84 year old uncle with his palsied hand from Parkinson's taking bread (I couldn't hold back the tears, this identical twin of my father who walks and talks just like him) simply said "thank you, Andy." A nephew broken himself in so many ways returning to church lifting the bread and juice to his mouth, "thank you, Aunt Lynn." They came, each one delivered from pain and sorrow and loss. They came and received you, a tribute to your power of love.

Most Wondrous and Gracious God,
my heart
is so filled
with gratitude
and joy.
The miraculous
has unfolded
in our family.
And your peace
enveloped,
envelopes us now.
We can call
each other.
We can e-mail
one another.
We can tease
one another.
We can laugh
with one another.
We can share
with one another
with no pain.

Yours forever, Andy