This is a strange old season I am currently experiencing. For a couple of months in Edinburgh it felt as though I was drifting, without direction or purpose. For the past couple of weeks in Adelaide it feels as though I have been hiding, overwhelmed by the gratitude of many friends for having me back in Adelaide.
I am super grateful for the many friends who want to spend time with me – what a gift it is to be so loved – but I find I have not the capacity for more than a very limited number of close confidants in this short season in Adelaide.
I’ve not even made it to church yet, so daunting is the prospect of all the well wishing people wanting to connect with me. That feels ridiculously ungrateful of me, for the love and support of this community of faith carried me through the three years in Edinburgh.
But I am trying to be kind to myself, not only in taking the time and space I need, but in not feeling guilty for doing so. I’ve battle…
those who gather at this table have chosen to follow a story
the story of God, who loves
who, from an eternal well of love,
created all that lives – created humans for love,
and invited us into a relationship for life: full, rich, life.
The story is a story of human turning away, and returning,
of prophets calling, men and women singing,
God forgiving and restoring, again and again.
The story of this table, this meal,
is the story of Jesus, who we follow;
who was born under a special star,
inhabited by the Sacred Spirit.
Jesus looked at women and welcomed, men, and healed,
children, and delighted.
The story of Jesus is a story of love,
of peace and justice and courage.
On the night when he was betrayed –
for not all understood, or accepted –
he took the bread they were to eat, gave thanks and broke it.
He looked at his friends and said, this is my body, breaking for you
Eat, and whenever you eat, remember me.
At the end of the meal he took a cup and gave thanks.
He said, thi…