"I Am the Lord of the Dance"

In the book "LILA" by Marilynne Robinson, there are these words: "In a song a note follows the one before because it is that song and not another one."

Perhaps each of our lives are songs like none other. Notes follow notes that become songs that lead into other songs in the continuing days of our lives. Lullabies ...hymns ... jigs and reels and strathspeys ... hymns ... laments ... hymns ... serenades ... hymns ... dirges .... joyous, heaven-opening hymns. We are notes followed by other notes that become songs followed by other songs - all, in their own ways, prayers. It is all good.

"I am the Lord of the Dance," said He!

"What Puzzle Piece Do You Have to Share?

Each morning I drive by the building that is painted like a puzzle.  It's in a rather sad part of town. Those I often see along the road seem to be weary, shuffling up the hill to who-knows-where or trying to get the attention of who-knows-what.  This colorful building seems so out of place in such a grey part of town.

One of the puzzle pieces on the front of this building reads "You are so loved."  I carry that reminder with me each day as I begin my day at work.  This morning the traffic had come to a standstill in front of the building so I was able to read another puzzle piece that was on the side.  The words are something like "What piece of the human puzzle do you have to share with others?"  Perhaps one flows from the other ... knowing that we are "so loved" brings with it a call to share our own piece of the human puzzle with others.  Too many are missing that "you are so loved" puzzle piece that is God-shaped.  Too many think that they have lost it forever when it is always in plain sight.

Just maybe this brightly-colored building is not only for those weary ones in a grey world but also for those of us who drive by.  May we offer a puzzle piece to someone today.

"Dripping with Grace and Love"

When I was a child, Holy Communion was neat and tidy and predictable. The bread was in tiny perfectly-shaped cubes. The juice was offered in brass trays in the tiniest of glass cups ... perfectly measured. Yes, it was neat and tidy and there was no hope of receiving more than allotted by the Communion stewards.

But now? Even this very day? A piece of bread is torn from a loaf in pieces that are never perfect nor are they small. A cup is offered and I dip the bread into the juice. I hear my name and words of remembrance. Sunday morning Communion was nourishment in portions that I needed ... messy and enough and dripping with Grace and Love. I will admit before you all that I licked my fingers after I received Communion for I wanted and needed every last drop of what was offered to me.

Wherever She Finds Herself to Be

She finds herself walking down the same street that she had walked the morning before … in the same clothes that she had worn the day before. At times, she might pause with the passing of each car and try to encourage any man to stop. I have seen her pull her shirt up as a car drove by. One morning, she was in tears as she walked down the road. Her head was down. She didn’t acknowledge the passing of any car. But this morning, she was thumbing, trying to hitch a ride in one direction. A car was heading in the opposite direction. She ran across the street, began thumbing, hoping that the car would stop. It just doesn’t seem to matter to her what direction she is heading this morning. It just doesn’t seem to matter what direction her life is taking.

It would be nothing short of a miracle if her life changed for the better today. I do pray for a miracle for her … often. For today though, I pray that she might be kept safe, wherever she finds herself to be.