Sunday, April 5, 2009

Dearest God,

I pulled off my ministerial robe, slipped off my earrings and my shoes and I became me. I shared my own story by becoming a Hebrew woman who participated in the Palm Sunday parade. What a freeing experience!

As a pastor and preacher, I have the privilege of telling your story every week. I get to plan the worship service, pick the songs, and give the message. What an honor to share the stories that come from the Bible, life-giving stories that offer challenge and hope.

As I stood barefoot in the center aisle, I felt a deep, abiding faith welling up within me. I knew I was standing in the middle of your story. What joy spilled out of me.

You, O God,
give us
your story.
Like a garden
needing tending,
your story
needs telling.
Like seeds
being planted,
so we sow seeds
that have
great potential
for an
even greater yield.
When I preach,
I feel
like I am
sowing seeds
in fresh,
fertile soil.
Later,
I am privileged
to see
the fruit
of my labors.
Joy on a weary face.
Hope in a difficult situation.
Grace transforming a life.
Of course,
I am not
the source
of any
of these.
You, alone,
bring growth.
But I do
get to
sprinkle the seeds
of faith.
Thank you,
O God,
for the privilege.

Love, Andrea