Posts Tagged ‘grace’

Practicing Presence

February 6, 2017

Mozart, our Shar-Pei, is a lover so to speak. He loves affection and attention. Ignoring him is usually not an option. He loves to be loved. Our car Frodo, on the other hand, is a one person cat for the most part. He sits on TruDee’s lap if he sits on lap at all. It only takes a look from me to cause him to flee across the room, he pretty much doesn’t want anything to do with anyone or anything except TruDee.moz-and-frodo

He will acknowledge our two dogs as long as it’s his idea and not theirs. Mozart really wants to interact with Frodo, but most of the time Frodo is not having it. I noticed the other evening Mozart scooting across the floor close to Frodo. Mozart finally stopped and simply lay his head close to Frodo and just waited.

Perhaps he learned this from our older dog Simeon, I have often referred to Simeon as my Zen master. Simeon for the most part is about presence. He doesn’t need a lot of attention or petting, he is generally content just laying or sitting near you in a, “I’m here,” presence.

I think about so many instances and situations in our culture and society, our state and nation, our government, politics, even in the church and I wonder what we might learn from such an example of Mozart and Simeon? It seems to me there is so much incivility, vitriol language, intolerance, lack of understanding, and too much talking at one another rather than listening.

I wonder, if we focused more on the practice of forgiveness and grace, a practice of a patient listening presence rather than how we are going to respond in accusation or proving another wrong and we right, if our world, our churches, and our lives might be a little more open to the common good for all? I wonder.

Take some time this week and beyond to consider how we could all spend a little more time on inward reflection on our own behavior and reactions. Take some time this week and beyond to reflect on how we all might practice patience and an intentional listening presence to understand rather than to be right.

Mozart’s attempt at practicing presence did not result in a new best of friends scenario, but perhaps it will lead to a more understanding and friendly relationship between two who must live in the world together peaceably and gracefully. Practice patience. Practice presence. Practice Love, Kindness, and Humility.

It is one of the many of the ways we seek to be mindful of the Spirit and one another here at the Hill, where you are one of the community.  Here where there is always an open door, a safe space, a warm welcome, and a place at the table. Not Your Ordinary Church. Until next week, God bless, and know you are never alone.

Peace and Light…and Presence for Your Journey!

Pastor Kent


What Now?

November 7, 2016

Most likely by the time you read this writing you will either have already voted, as I have, or the election will be over. I write this on Monday November 7, the day before the election of our next President and many representatives, senators, and judges. On the evening of Tuesday November 8 emotions will continue to run high, either with hope and relief or concern and disappointment, even, perhaps apathy and continued cynicism about the whole of our system of campaigns, elections, and government.

I have a friend, colleague, and mentor, Bill Selby, who shared the other day, “These are some of the most exciting times to be the church!” I believe there is truth in the statement. The church, the community of faith, and all those who long for a more civil, compassionate, just, and loving world have an incredible opportunity to be a voice and channel for healing and grace. With the election of a new president and other leadership, there will be continued challenge and opportunity to reach across aisles and tables to engage in conversation and work toward the common good for all.

I read colleague Eric Folkerth’s  writing  the other day addressing the state of mind of so many of us in our country. He described this state of mind as a kind of PTSD, post-traumatic stress disorder. I hear and listen to our own parishioners as well as other friends and colleagues, who share tears and fears about the future. There has been, according to many, an unprecedented amount of hatred, racism, sexism, Islamophobia, misogyny, homophobia, bigotry, and fear-laden vitriol language associated with this campaign season. I have likened it more than once to the continued ripping off of a scab from a wound we thought had begun to heal over the years, decades, perhaps even centuries.

With all that has boiled to the surface over the past several years, regardless of which leaders we elect, these issues are not going to go away. The hate and vitriol language will still be present whether it is blatantly out in the open or it returns to just under the surface in subversive and clandestine ways. There is going to need to be focused work on healing, conversation, civility, listening, and compassionate reaching out to those who are hurting and fearful, and to those with whom we disagree. As a country, as communities, as the church, as communities of faith, religious, and non-religious, we cannot afford to sweep these emotions and fears under the rug and hope they just disappear after our particular candidate is or is not elected. The church has to find a way to keep the struggle before us in constructive, redemptive, and justice seeking ways.

Being the church in this atmosphere is difficult work. While that is true, I agree with my friend and colleague, this is an exciting, though difficult time to be the church. We have an opportunity to be a unique and critical voice of reason and compassion in a country and world torn by fear, distrust, and anger. Too many times in days such as this the church has retreated from the difficult work of being a voice of justice, kindness, and humility in the world. Too often, the church chooses the broader way of exclusion, reflecting our fears rather than our grace. We cannot afford to shrink from the responsibility we carry set forth by the one we follow who challenges and disturbs us to “Love your enemies,” to “Turn the other cheek,” to engage others, even those with whom we passionately disagree, in ways that draw us to the table as opposed to close the table off.

I am drawn again and again to not only the words of Jesus but to those of Martin Luther King Jr., “We will either learn to live together as brothers and [sisters], or we will perish together as fools.” It is a narrow path, it is one fraught with difficulty and being uncomfortable, but it is the Way, the only Way we, we ALL of us, will find healing and mercy for our hearts and souls.

I hope you will join us this Sunday, November 13, 2016 at College Hill United Methodist Church for a worship service dedicated to keeping the difficulties before us, while offering hope, healing, and grace in this difficult time. It is one of the many ways we seek to be mindful of the Spirit and one another here at the Hill, where you are one of the community.  Here where there is always an open door, a safe space, a warm welcome, and a place at the table. Not Your Ordinary Church. Until next week, God bless, and know you are never alone.

Peace and Light on Your Journey,

Pastor Kent

A Broad Tent United Methodist Church?

October 11, 2016

I am a second generation Methodist/United Methodist clergy. My father, a United Methodist Elder, served in the Methodist/United Methodist Church for thirty three years. I was born into the Methodist/United Methodist church, was baptized in 1959 and confirmed and became a full member in 1972. My journey toward ordained ministry was similar to my father’s. I spent a good deal of time running the other way from my calling, finally entering the process toward ordination at the age of thirty-two. At this date I have been in pastoral ministry in the United Methodist Church for twenty-four years. All this simply to say, I am a lifelong Methodist/United Methodist of fifty-seven years.

I share this writing as I watch our United Methodist Denomination continue to struggle to stay united and one. I wrote a blog sometime back about the United Methodist Church’s official position on same gender relationships, and while this date’s writing may take a gentler tone, I remain firm in my views on that position.

I write this day wondering about the future of the Broad Tent United Methodist Church under which I grew up. There are many, not unlike myself, who have used that language to speak to inquiring persons as they ask questions about our denomination, as well as long time members who are on the journey to better understand who and how we are in the church. Language that speaks to the truth that we are not a creedal church, language of a Broad Tent denomination where there is room for a breadth of conservative evangelical members as well as liberal progressive members. I have heard those words from conservative evangelical and liberal progressive lay persons, clergy, and bishops. We are a Theologically Broad Tent denomination.

That being said, this writing is about two primary and current topics in our denomination. One is the bishop’s commission being created to study our current disciplinary language regarding human sexuality and in particular our church’s position on same gender relationships. If we are indeed a church that is of open door, open heart, open mind…if we are indeed a church with a theologically Broad Tent of belief and practice, I am troubled by the apparent makeup of the commission. The makeup of the commission as of this date appears to be twenty-one clergy, eight of whom are bishops, and eight lay persons. Theologically speaking I do not know the makeup of the commission. However, to have an imbalance of clergy to laity seems to me to strike at the heart of who we are as a denomination. Our Annual Conferences and our General Conference work hard at equity and equal representation. Not to mention we are creating a commission to determine a recommendation about how the church will move forward in relation to our LGBTQ members, and though I do not know the orientation of any of the suggested commission members, our LGBTQ members are not mentioned and I would assume then, not included. An unfortunate exclusion and rejection once again with LGBTQ persons on the outside looking in having to wait for someone else to decide whether they are welcome or not. Such exclusion from the commission is unjust and not in keeping with a so-called Broad Tent denomination. It grieves me and I can only imagine the pain and anger my LGBTQ friends and colleagues feel.

My other concern with our long championed notion of a Broad Tent theological denomination is in regards to a recently formed group, The Wesleyan Covenant Association. I think it is wonderful for like-minded Christians to gather together to share ideas, theologies, purpose, mission, and worship. I do that on a regular basis. I am a member of the Reconciling Ministries Network, and my affiliation with this group feeds my heart and soul whenever we gather in prayer, worship, conversation, and brainstorming ideas. My concern rests with the portion of their covenant that would appear to nullify the Broad Tent denomination we have long claimed to be.

In referencing the bishop’s commission a portion of their statement includes the following: A plan that requires traditionalists to compromise their principles and understanding of Scripture, including any form of the “local option” around ordination and marriage, will not be acceptable to the members of the Wesleyan Covenant Association, stands little chance of passing General Conference, would not definitively resolve our conflict, and would, in fact, lead to the fracturing of the church.

While I would agree with the beginning words that a plan should not compromise their principles and understanding of scripture, I would hope the same courtesy would be offered to those who embrace other understandings of Scripture which shape principles and practice. The portion of the statement that would allow for a Broad Tent, i.e. “local option” around ordination and marriage, as not acceptable, would indicate that no longer would we consider a Broad Tent understanding to be tenable. I pray this would not be the case. To lose this sense of a willingness to live in community, with Christians, United Methodists of all stripes; conservative evangelical, liberal progressive, straight and gay, to lose this community with a broad understanding of theology and practice grieves my heart and at least in my life and faith would diminish our denomination’s appeal and work in the world around us. I have served eight congregations in my twenty-four years of ministry and have cherished each and every one of those congregations, none of whose members all agreed with me, nor I with them one hundred percent. Still I am committed to the belief that diversity and a willingness to acknowledge difference and still work together participating with the Spirit in bringing the Kindom here within and among us is a gift and a grace of God.

I hold our United Methodist Denomination in The Light of prayer and the Spirit every day, all of us, because I still believe in the hope and grace of the theologically Broad Tent denomination in which I was raised and in which I serve. We are all in this together, at least that is my hope and prayer. Perhaps in 2018 we will see how it all turns out. I pray there is still a place for all of us, for my more conservative evangelical friends and colleagues, a place for me, a place for my LGBTQ friends and colleagues, a place for inclusion and grace. I pray.

May it be so. May it be soon.

Rev. Kent H. Little

An Open Letter to My Granddaughter on the Occasion of Her Birth

September 15, 2014

Dear Kadee,
It is now near a day and a half since you were born and I am struggling to find the words to write and say. I am a bit speechless and yet one day you will know as with any preacher that does not last long. I am sitting alone in the dining room of our home with a cup of coffee with only my thoughts and a picture of you before me on the table, as your Grammy is already with you. I have yet to hold you but I can already sense your warm smooth skin, your sweet fragrance, and the softness of the new born hair on your head. I already know you are the most beautiful and loved baby there is, that is Poppie talk and you’ll need to get used to it as will anyone else who happens to overhear.

This morning as I ponder the world into which you have been born I want to share some thoughts, wisdom, and other comments with you within this first letter. Our world is filled with a lot of scary things. There are wars being fought over religion and territory. There are people who claim to speak for God who commit atrocities against their fellow humankind without thought or remorse. There are people in our own country who want to retaliate in a kind of eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth mentality that only perpetuates more war and violence.

There are people in our own country, in our own government, even in our churches who would do violence to another, discriminate against them, call others names, and deny them legal, civil, and human rights for no other reason than for who they love, the color of their skin, the state of their finances, the religion they practice or lack thereof, and Kadee, in the world we live in today there are those who would deny you rights and privileges and freedoms simply because you were born a little girl.

Dearest Kadee, I know you cannot read this yet, I hope someday you do and it makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. I hope you read this when you are a young woman and say, “Poppie, really? People used to do those things to others? That is so sad and I’m glad it is not that way any longer.” I do not write these words to scare you; I would never do such a thing. I write these words to apologize. I am sorry. I am sorry we are not able to welcome you into a world in which equality and justice for all are the rule of the day. I am sorry we who have come before you continue to screw things up so badly for those who would come after us. It is not fair, but please do not be afraid.

I write this note to you on a cool September morning as the sun begins to break over the eastern horizon. This letter to you is a hope-filled promise and reassurance. As the days carry on I want you to know for all the scary stuff that is out there it is still a good world. This is a beautiful world filled with the very Presence of God, with grace and love and music and harmony, it is just that sometimes it takes a little extra effort to find it and embrace it.

There are still those who believe and fight for equality and justice and right. There are still those out there who know what it is to love unconditionally and strive to make this world a better place. I want you to know Kadee I try to be one of those persons and as of September 13th I have one more very special reason to continue the fight and promise to you to do my best to leave this world a little better than I found it, not only for you and for all those who are like you and just beginning.

Kadee, you have been born to incredible, grace-filled, loving parents, your mom and dad will immerse you in the very unconditional love of the Spirit. You will be surrounded by so many family and friends who will love you unconditionally, of that I have no doubt! That love, I pray, will nurture you into whatever kind of dreams you are able to dream, into whatever kind of magnificent woman you choose to be. But I get ahead of myself and now I am dreaming of what might be rather than what is and who you are in this moment.

I’m going to close now, precious little one, and get on with my day looking forward to that moment this afternoon when I can wrap you in my own arms, kiss your face, and hear you breathe and coo. Your Poppie will always love you, always, no matter what and there is nothing you can do about it.

One additional note Kadee, I am publishing this note to you in our church newsletter and on my blog because not only do I hope all these things for you, but I pray every day all of us, the church, our society and culture, universally will one day embrace such a world where justice will roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever flowing stream, a world where love and justice for all is the rule rather than the exception, a world where all means all. May it be so. May it be soon.

May you always have Peace and Light for your Journey,


Being Vulnerable

September 27, 2011

I tease Simeon all the time about being a “mama’s boy.” I suppose it is just that mama’s touch TruDee has when we are quietly at home. You can usually find him close to her in whatever room she finds herself. Oh, he is always excited when I come home and greets me enthusiastically but once the wagging, ear scratching, hugging, and licking are done he usually returns to the spot where she is.

He is my boy when it is time to go for a walk or a ride in the pickup; he just seems to have an intuition about those things. I suppose he just knows my routine enough or my body language and speech that when preparing for a walk or thinking about taking him for a spin he senses it and is ready at the door.

One of my favorite times he seems to invite me into his own little world is when he is laying down and I will walk by and there is softness to his look as he rolls over, feet pointed to the sky waiting for a full tummy rub.

Generally, I am told that is not a natural posture for a dog as it exposes their weakest areas and makes them vulnerable to attack and harm. Simeon knows I am not going to attack or harm him, there is a trust I believe for him in that posture. I suppose there would be those who would see it in a subordinate/master relationship and I would probably agree with that to some degree. But I choose rather to see it as a sign of trust.

There have been times when Simeon has taken up for me and shown his protective side and literally stood between me and danger protecting and defending. But I find in this posture and occasional ritual between him and me a sense of ultimate trust, a willingness of vulnerability as a sign of love and embrace.

This coming Sunday we will be continuing our series on the Eight Fold Path of Buddhism and the Teachings and Parables of Jesus. Sunday we will be celebrating World Communion Sunday and speaking on “Right View, A Stick in the Eye” dealing with forgiveness and grace. Forgiveness and grace are aspects to our faith journey that require trust and vulnerability; a willingness to open our hands and our hearts and let another in.

I will continue to honor Simeon’s trust in me when he is at his most vulnerable, and I will continue to trust his instincts when I find myself in need of his presence. Take some time this week to think about your most vulnerable times, and trust the Spirit of God is with you, most profoundly in and through those who accompany you along the Way.

It is one of the many ways we seek to be faithful to the Spirit and one another here at the Hill, where you are one of the family. Here where there is always an open door, a safe space, a warm welcome, and a place at the table.
Until next week, God bless, and know you are never alone.

It’s Time

April 16, 2011

Someone asked today, “What is your dream?” My present dreaming is shaped by recent experiences as pastor and friend. As Easter Sunday approaches in the church I am pondering new life.
Reading news headlines; DOMA, DADT, A Gay Man Beaten to Death near Philadelphia, and Proposition 8; I dream.
I dream a day when all see the denial of such rights as unjust. I dream a day when men and women, gay and straight sit down to civil discussion without condemnation to some kind of hell. I dream a day these headlines are seen as dead because new life of love and full inclusion blossoms, replacing hatred and bigotry.
I dream a day when my GLBT brothers and sisters are embraced as the grace-filled children of God they are, and their love for one another holds the same degree of esteem and right as the love between myself and the love of my life.
A civil rights issue that I dream one day lies in the past to teach us, “Never Again!” I pray those who know this love of justice for all will stand with me in our society and in our churches because I believe, “It’s Time.”

Rolling In It

December 7, 2009

     Simeon and I took off on our four mile trek again Friday afternoon. It had been some time since we had walked the north route; with harvest and hunting I had kept in town so as to avoid the trucks and the shotguns. We got to the dirt road just north of town and I turned him loose. It had been awhile since he was able to just run no longer tethered to his walking companion.
     He ran and ran and ran and ran! We were on the way back south when I noticed him noticing something along the two rut path that entered the field just on the north side of the old tail water pit. I whistled at him wondering what it was he had discovered and just about then I saw him start to lie down. I whistled again and yelled his name! It was to no avail though, down he went rolling in whatever it was he had found.
     He came out of the encounter without too much damage. I really did not see any remnants of whatever treasure he had stumbled upon, at least not until that evening. He had acquired an aroma that had not been present when we left earlier that day, though not extremely bad, he did smell more like a dog than he normally does. There is a bath in his near future.
     Simeon though I suppose is not unlike many of us. Sometimes we just have to roll in it, sometimes ignorant of the consequences, sometimes knowing full well that once we are in it is going to cause a stink, either among those around us, or for ourselves in general.
In one of Paul’s letters he speaks of knowing what he should do and not doing it and knowing what not to do and doing it anyway. I suppose it is a bit of the human struggle, sometimes it seems we just cannot help ourselves. I pray in the coming days you do not have too many of those situations that would cause a stink, and if and when you do, I pray for grace in and about for all of us.


July 2, 2009

I went out to the retaining wall along the highway in front of the church Monday afternoon to sit, to ponder, to look for God … if you will. I sat and listened to and watched the traffic go by. There is a lot of noise out there; the constant drone of the elevator, birds chirping, horns honking, and of course the traffic. It seems to come in waves a few moments of no cars then a glut of tractor-trailers, mini-vans, cars, and motorcycles.

They are all different in their own way. Some of them with business advertising on the sides, various state license plate, some with license plates designating colleges, radio stations, names, and other markers identifying the owner in a particular way.

It was interesting to note the people inside the vehicles themselves. Some were reading maps and magazines … even some of the drivers were doing that, some were singing, some focused on the road ahead and some gazing around even making eye contact with me as I sat there in the shade.

It was a good experience of connection and sometimes the lack thereof. I saw some people who knew me who waved enthusiastically, some who knew me who waved with a “I wonder why he is up to now,” look on their face, some who I knew were focused on the road ahead and had no clue they had just been pondered by the local United Methodist pastor. There were those who waved or honked and I did not have time to see if I knew them or not, and some who I know I did not know but still waved enthusiastically, but a good many of those who passed by looked straight ahead without a glance.

I think about the road of life if you will, all of us, traveling one way or another in one lane or another. I think one lane is not necessarily better than the other, though going the wrong way in the wrong lane is not particularly helpful. Of course one can carry any metaphor to one extreme or another to create a cause for conflict and disagreement. But as I sat there and pondered, wouldn’t it be nice, good, beneficial if we had some sense of connection, or at least felt some sense of respect, perhaps even responsibility for the others in the other lanes?

I must confess it was the ones who smiled and waved, whether I knew them or not, that created a stir in me and brought a smile to my face and a wave back. It is that connection that we all need to fill our souls and light our path. The author of Genesis tells us we were created to be in relationship, it is not good to be alone.

I pray this week you find that sense of connectedness in your life in whatever manner it comes along. Offer that connectedness to those you encounter be it with a simple wave and a smile or a phone call or to stop by and visit. It will lighten your step and lift your spirit.

Missed Him By That Much

June 3, 2009

   In my best Maxwell Smart voice … “Missed it by that much!” I was traveling between Dodge City and Cimarron a couple of weeks ago and saw a bicyclist traveling with what might be considered all of his worldly possession; saddle bags on the front and rear. Just behind the seat was a hand written sign that I did not catch as we passed by on our way.
   Two days later I was on my way to Salina for Annual Conference. I had decided to leave the day before I needed to be there so my Tuesday would not be so long. Just outside of Larned I saw the green bicycle again, complete with rider, saddle bags, and sign on the seat. This time I watched as I drove by … the rider was not waving his arms, or being intrusive, or drawing attention to himself other than the simple cardboard sign attached to his seat. “Hungry Please Help,” was all it said. I drove on by thinking of his sign and the heat of the day.
   When I arrived in town a few minutes later I pulled into the local Sonic and ordered a double cheeseburger, fries, and a Route 44 ice water. I left there and found the local Dillons store and purchased several of those flat foil pouches of meat; tuna, chicken, and dried beef. I picked up a loaf of bread, some fruit cups, and 3 bottles of sports drink and headed back from whence I had come.
   I found the man resting alongside the road and pulled off on the shoulder. I asked him if he would like some ice water, he was very appreciative and expressed his thanks. I then handed him the bag from Sonic and explained the contents. He smiled a sparsely toothed grin and said “Thank you very much,” and started to sit to eat. I asked him if he thought he had room for the other groceries I had purchased in this saddle bags. His whole body shook, it was unclear if it was from fatigue or from the excitement and appreciation for the food. He assured me he could and took them gladly.
    He sat down in the grass with the bags and began devouring the feast. I do not believe I have ever been in the presence of someone “that” hungry … spoke to him of the heat and and the day to which he simply nodded as he ate. I finally simply said, “God Bless you on your journey,” and pulled away back on my way to my destination.
    I felt good, I had fed a hungry one. Scripture passages came to mind, “I was hungry and you fed me,” “show hospitality to strangers,” and others. But it was many miles down the road when I realized what I had missed.
    I was not in a hurry, my destination later that afternoon and evening was about getting a sandwich myself, sitting in my hotel room, and reading preparing for Conference. I wondered to myself why I had done that, why within my call and work to feed this hungry one I did not go the extra mile? Why I had not taken the time to sit down on the ground with him? Why had I not ordered myself a sandwich too and shared a meal there in the grass? Why had I not sat down and said, “If you are comfortable, tell me your story.” “Where have you been? Where are you going?” Why had I not made myself even more available to this weary traveler?
     I realized as I drove along how much I had missed. Perhaps it was in preparation for what I was to hear at Annual Conference about Radical Hospitality. That it isn’t enough to simply bring bread “to” the hungry, but perhaps our deeper call is to break bread “with” the hungry.
And I wondered … I pondered … whether … had I stayed … if HE would have been made known to me … in the breaking of bread. I wondered … and today as with the day of my experience, I give thanks for grace.

Footprints in the Dust

March 18, 2009

Walking north of town this evening I was thinking of how dry it is. The dust, particularly along the edge of the road is a fine powder. I watched, as Simeon ran ahead of me, the plumes rose from where his paws landed creating quite a cloud of dust even along the road but especially when he ventured full bore into the wheat in the field beside us. My goodness our good green, albeit not very green, earth could use a good long drink of water!
I noticed as I walked along, the paw prints Simeon left behind, some of them from this evening, some of them from days past on our previous journeys north of town, I was a bit surprised they were still there with the Western Kansas wind and all. Alongside his paw prints were other prints from other animals that had obviously walked our path at some time previous to us. And in the midst of all those prints were human prints, shoe prints left by myself from days before. All of them pressed into the dust. As we walked along it was a bit like we were writing a story in the dust in the midst of a story that had been told days before, prints of journeys past along with new ones in the present.
I am reflective today as I walk. I am reflecting on dust… we are told in our sacred texts it is the stuff from which we are created, it is the stuff to which we will all one day return … ashes to ashes and dust to dust we hear at our final resting place. It is dust … sacred dust … dust that tells a story … dust that tells our story.
I am reflective of the footprints left behind by myself, by my companion on the way, and by the ones I have not seen but know of their presence because of the mark they have left behind. I suppose, in part, I am reflective because of current happenings in my life and the life of our church, I am reflective of the footprints of life that have been left on my heart and soul of those who have gone on before me; those who have made me, for better or worse, who as well as whose I am. I am reflective of my own footprints, my own life, and wonder about the impressions I have made on those who I have helped make who and whose they are.
In all this life reflection I am drawn to a song by a Christian singer who died some years back. He sang a song about the baptism of a baby and in the chorus to that song he spoke of “footsteps” in our lives and his hope that in “every footprint that you leave, there’d be a drop of grace.” I like that, it is good medicine on a reflective walk this evening.
As I watch the dust cloud known as Simeon bolt down the road in front of me I give thanks for the company, for the dust, for the footprints on and of my life, mostly though, I give thanks for grace and pray within the footprints of my life there would be at least one drop.