My head and heart are full.
My head is full of fluids intent on silencing my world. I’m on the second go-round of antibiotics for ear infections. So it goes. It’s brought to my heart a whole new compassion for those with hearing loss. Restaurants are brutal, as is any place where ambient noise reigns supreme. Reality feels swaddled. I’m learning new things.
And my heart? My heart is full of wonder. Love is an amazing force for healing. At my uncle’s funeral, the pain and joy that comes with family and loving was named, the holding of story was shared, and the power of healing and gratitude was passed from heart to heart. I share family with an amazing crew of varied explorers. From grandparents Keith and Helen came four children full of soul and zest and they made families and together we each hold a piece of our shared story. It’s a wonder.
Church too is a coming together of each of our stories. When we gather to name our dependence upon and grounding in the Holy, we swirl our beings into a weave of remarkable strength. Each of our bumps is held, each of our triumphs is present, and our questions and wisdom conspire to lead us into the story larger than our own in order that we might know it to be our own.
How wonder-full is that?