Dearly Beloved, Grace and Peace to you.
Defeated, burdened by the dark repeating, the dead weight of finality, abandoned in our losses, power failure, collapse of choice, we suddenly grew old and fruitless. The door closed to the place to begin again. Grave and determined, we went back and threw our nets. In the narrow night we caught nothing.
Then — “Children.”
Who but the Beloved would call us that, awaken such a dawn?
Who else would name our void? Once again we are turned, shown an unaccustomed way, welcomed to another side where something opens up and miracles are brought from deep beneath us— too much magnificence for us alone, too much. Our bodies are startled.
A voice of recognition— not from our head but another— sings out, the alarm of knowing what we know. We put on white robes and throw ourselves into the baptismal deep.
On the shore — is this the near one now, or far? — you give us once again this self of you, this whole, this you. You break our fast with wonder. We feast, astonished from our hands, yet from beyond. We offer what we have been given, this multiplying banquet.
How can we not then, withholding nothing, even what is not yet given, feed your sheep?
Deep Blessings Pastor Steve ______________________ Steve Garnaas-Holmes Unfolding Light www.unfoldinglight.net
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