I recently read a Sojourners article by pastor/author Jose Humphreys III, as he reflected on his hopes for our country. His prayer was that we could continue to nurture the kind of belonging that springs not from a common ethnicity or common ancestry or even a common faith tradition, but rather from our common humanity. He wrote “Remember how you are all tethered to an ecosystem of beautiful humans, past and present, who have pursued the vision of the beloved community…May we weave a tapestry of belonging. May that become the story our country learns to tell about itself.”
It struck me that this is exactly the story that Jesus, in his own land and time, encouraged his disciples to learn to tell. Not of any specific country, but about the Kingdom of God. Jesus spent his public ministry preaching a culture of belonging. He welcomed the excluded, the outcast, the stranger and told them they had a place in God’s heart. May we follow in his way. – Pastor Annette
I have been listening for the heart of God. Not in thunder. Not in certainty. In repetition. Again. Again. Again.
The rhythm is older than language. One more. One more. One more. Not louder. Never hurried. Steady as tidewater. Persistent as spring.
I used to think God counted like we do. Enough. Complete. Finished. Instead, God keeps starting over. With another dawn. Another table. Another hand held out before anyone asks. Another name everyone else has forgotten. Another chance to come home.
The heartbeat never changes. One more. The lost one. The late one. The loud one. The lonely one. The one who has rehearsed their apology all the way home. The one who no longer believes they deserve to be found. The one standing outside the circle, Pretending not to care. One more.
I spent years afraid that God’s heart would eventually grow tired of mine. That somewhere there was a number. A limit. A door that quietly clicked shut.
Instead, I found a pulse. It never asked whether I belonged. It simply kept making its ancient reply. Again. One more. Again. One more. Until I could finally Hear my own heart answering back.
One, by Melissa Marzolf