This Sunday, we’ll ring in the new calendar year together.  We’ll take the time we have to wonder about what season it is in our lives, as we move from one to the next.  We’ll take cues from our tradition and our sacred text, as we reflect on what God is bringing to life in us.  What is the gift of our present moment?  While we wait on the edge of transition, I share with you a poem by our friend, Rev. Micah Bucey.  May these words bless you and spark your own wondering in the wandering.

An Impatient Waiting Prayer

Horizons are horribly irritating.
Always just ahead,
A bit beyond where we want to travel.

But don’t get it twisted.
The skyline will not come to you.
It’s not made to move.
You are the migrant.

The trick is to be so aflame exactly where you are
That you blaze a trail forward
Without even realizing it.

Or, if that imagery is too violent,
Imagine those cute and quiet mornings
When you magically stir
Exactly one minute before your alarm alarms.

Is there any more present present than this?

No one telling you what to do,
Nothing forcing you from dream,
Your soul has simply risen to fill the measure
Between yesterday and tomorrow,
Offering you sixty seconds of silent today,
During which that border between you and you
Expands and contracts, expands and contracts,
Creating just enough vibration
To turn your anxious irritation
Into everything you think you’re expecting.

The point is:
Don’t heckle the horizon.
It’s not human, but it will hum with you.
So whether through heat or through hush,
Hold yourself so accountable to who you are
That you hover over your own bored excuses
And your waiting can’t help but give way to waking.

Amen

See you Sunday!

Pastor Lea