I had never realized the pure and simple pleasure of tension on a string— the pull between my bone and blood body and the unseen mystery of the wind. The gripping tug between heaven and earth finally tangible.
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The parking lot light, vibrant against the white sanctuary and red canna lillies.
The fields all around turned copper and rugged and sounding like the sea.
And the toddlers fisting puzzle pieces, cap-less markers, and Goldfish. All at once.
These are reflections on life at the parsonage in Zion.
Simple moments in between where we sink into the convergence of heaven and earth.
May we dwell in this together. Amen.