sign acts

Here’s the thing.

Sometimes, after stepping away from something for three months, there is a sense of shy about reentry.  Questions percolate even though unwelcome about place and role and rightness of reengaging.  So preparing for my first day back at church was not without some stomach work.  I worried.

Here is what I encountered:  flowers and hugs and emails and more flowers and a sign on my office door and on my desk chair and smiles and smiles and a staff welcome back feast and great words of affirmation from various and sundry not only for me but for the team of good people who carried on in my absence. 

And what my heart is feeling is that it happens that it IS possible to go home again.  Home being that place where you are taken in and relished for the part you play in the unfolding of shared life.

I’m home.  And the sign acts of lit faces and beauty tremble my heart with gratitude.

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