Hunger

Dearly Beloved, Grace and Peace to you.                    

We sit at our tables things falling off hungry for the deep hunger we've lost the one we were born with for life, all of it, and earth, and humanity, all of it, outside the gate.

We feed ourselves insatiably, growing hungrier by the mouthful tasting less seeing, hearing less and less lest we see through the gate, lest we see Lazarus, reclining in the gutter of Abraham's bosom, lest we see all of this wide life in his tear-drained eyes, lest we see this terror that we're dying of hunger.

Safe in our torment on this side of the great chasm we still long for a drop of heaven's water. Hungering for compassion, we have none. Starving to live life, we don't.

O soul, in your familiar flames, heaven is right here. Go through the gate.

                    Deep Blessings, Pastor Steve

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