"Just When ... "

(Please read Exodus 3:1-15)

Just when the young
have their hectic schedules
finalized on their calendars …

Just when baby boomers
have their lives
carefully mapped out …

Just when retirees
think that they have
indeed retired …

Just when our lives
become routine and settled …
and just when we think
that we will never
hear the voice of God,
IT HAPPENS.

Yes, just when we begin to believe
that we are who we are
and are who we will always be,
God calls our name,
not once, but twice …
commanding attention
as one might do
to a child who hasn’t listened.

Just when we put on
our well-worn bedroom slippers again,
comfortable and familiar,
we hear
“Take off your slippers.
You are standing on holy ground!”

Just when you call our names,
O Great I AM ...
just as we lean upon you
to remove our slippers,
forgive our initial fears and excuses;
forgive us if the first words
from our mouths are
“B-b- but G-G-God …
I haven’t had a pedicure yet!”

Just when our names spoken
still echo in our hearts …
just when our feet are bared,
and our favorite slippers
are tossed aside,
may our prayers be
that when called,
each of us might say,
“Here I am.”

"In Remembrance of Crumbs"

(Please read Matthew 15:21-28)

“In remembrance”,
the young minister said
as he pointed to a prepared table.
Whispers could be heard.
“Christ’s body … Christ’s blood”.
Over and over again -
“Christ’s body … Christ’s blood”.
The words ended only
when all had been fed.

The crumbs of the ripped-apart loaves
had fallen at his feet.
When all had been served,
the minister,
a guest in the church,
bent down to pick up one crumb.
“Tidy”, I thought.
“He is so tidy.”

The service soon ended.
While all others were shaking hands
and discussing where to meet
for Sunday lunch,
the minister,
this guest in our ‘house’,
fell to his hands and knees
and began to pick up crumbs.
One at a time ... crumb after crumb …
finally brushing them
with one hand
into a small pile of crumbs.

I whispered to him,
"You shouldn’t do that.
I will clean the crumbs
from the carpet.”
He looked at me,
still on his hands and knees,
and said …
“I have been made worthy
to receive these crumbs.
I do this in remembrance.”

And then with a smile, he whispered,
“Would you care to join me?”
And so, that morning
I found myself on my knees,
picking up crumbs,
brushing them into a small pile.
This, too, I did ‘in remembrance’
of the day that Grace filled me,
(yes, even me)
with a holy nourishment.