|
The Call to Prayer
|
|
Let us
give thanks to the LORD for His mercy and the wonders He does for his
children. For He satisfies the thirsty and fills the hungry with good things.
Psalm 107:8–9
And my hungry Is filled with good things.
And that’s not just about Thursday’s after work snack of oysters
and olives and carrots with Dre and Adam, tucked into a patio table at Johnny
Gibson’s downtown.
And Friday one of the community groups were
back out under the autumn stars, curled up on and around the backyard
cushions, nibbling melted cheeses draped in chutney and homemade bread and
roasted beets and walnuts before walking across the street to hear
the Bern and to pray for our country as it heads into another year of
politics. God have mercy on us. And Carlos Azarte parked his car in our front
yard so his kid could witness the democratic process happening here in
Tucson, and he sang a song of longing afterwards as we finished up the
nibbling curled up on and around the living room couches.
Or
Saturday’s potato pierogi
dribbled over with mushroom sauce at Tucson Meet Yourself cooking booth. I
thought I was signing my mom and me up for a refugee babysitting afternoon in
some apartment building complex and I brought Dr. Suess books and crayons and
sidewalk chalk, but somehow we ended up behind the “old building” Pima County
Courthouse sort of watching a bright-eyed Ukrainian boy help his mom
demonstrate making pasta rounds with potato water and filling them with
winter cabbage and then folding them in half and pinching a decorative twist
around the edges.
And Alan and I walked over to Café Passe after church last night and Chris’s
sermon about the hearts of outsiders, the Gentile magi, being exceedingly
full of joy and shared a small bowl of cheese kaesespaetzle
and large tumblers of Ayinger Herfeweizen and Jerry Jordan talked about his
grandpa’s funeral and life in Leipzig, Germany.
And the whole time I watched that little
Ukrainian refuge boy roll out his noodle dough and punch out rounds with a
blue plastic cup I thought about little children. The ones we are to be like.
Bright-eyed and in the moment. Unaware of the pushing and rumbling and
swirling crowds around. Well, not so much unaware, but unconcerned. Because
his momma had it all under control. And he was sturdy in her love. And all he
had to think about was the simple delight of rolling out dough and punching
rounds.
So he called a little child to him whom he set among them.
Then he said, ‘In truth I tell you, unless you change and become like little
children you will never enter the kingdom of Heaven. And so, one who makes
himself as little as this little child is the greatest in the kingdom of
Heaven.’ Matthew 18:1–4
And every morning the Imago Dei community sings
together. Create in me a clean heart, O
God, and renew a right spirit within me. Cast me not away from your presence
and take not your holy Spirit from me. Give me the joy of your saving help
again and sustain me with your bountiful Spirit. Psalm 51
And now my tummy is full of oatmeal and three
cups of water and one cup of espresso. And I am about to hop on my bicycle
and ride into the sunrise with one of those biking clumps.
Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit
within me. A spirit of childish joy and delight in Your
bountiful Spirit.
And He shall be their peace. Micah 5:12
|
