There she sat<\/p>\n
on a bar stool<\/p>\n
next to a small caf\u00e9 table<\/p>\n
lights bright<\/p>\n
room quiet<\/p>\n
except for her breath<\/p>\n
shared through words<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I don\u2019t remember what<\/p>\n
she preached<\/p>\n
The passage slips my mind<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
But the room was full<\/p>\n
The eyes of the women<\/p>\n
in attendance were fixed<\/p>\n
Mesmerized<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I think they sensed it<\/p>\n
as much as she did<\/p>\n
Something shifted in her that night<\/p>\n
That long dreaded overflow of anxiety<\/p>\n
to speak before others<\/p>\n
turned into a grace<\/p>\n
to be present with others<\/p>\n
to speak into others<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
A perfectly practiced and timed<\/p>\n
twenty-minute sermon<\/p>\n
turned into a thirty-seven minute<\/p>\n
kick off your sandals<\/p>\n
saunter on holy ground<\/p>\n
movement through verse<\/p>\n
thought<\/p>\n
and perspective<\/p>\n
punctuated with perfectly timed silence and<\/p>\n
words spoken at the pace of Grace<\/p>\n
resting upon and within<\/p>\n
the hearts of those present<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
There was no familiar, fear-filled<\/p>\n
feeling of nausea<\/p>\n
within her<\/p>\n
Only a transcendent deep peace<\/p>\n
a profound calm<\/p>\n
that she was exactly who she was to be<\/p>\n
if only in that moment<\/p>\n
where the waters of the Jordan<\/p>\n
dripped gently off her limbs<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
For soon after<\/p>\n
she was led into the desert<\/p>\n
to be stripped bare of<\/p>\n
hopes<\/p>\n
dreams<\/p>\n
ego<\/p>\n
and understanding<\/p>\n
of Church<\/p>\n
and community<\/p>\n
and oppressive theology<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Her position of a backstage leader<\/p>\n
who set up chairs<\/p>\n
and tossed out<\/p>\n
lipstick-stained disposable coffee cups<\/p>\n
week after week<\/p>\n
was relegated to<\/p>\n
an outside of the building presence<\/p>\n
left to roam<\/p>\n
search<\/p>\n
wait<\/p>\n
and wait<\/p>\n
in the now for the next<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
In the desert’s now<\/p>\n
she\u2019s learning<\/p>\n
new language<\/p>\n
and gaining new perspective<\/p>\n
She no longer sees the world<\/p>\n
The Church<\/p>\n
God<\/p>\n
Or herself through conservative evangelical-colored glasses<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
In the now<\/p>\n
she understands<\/p>\n
the humbling mercy<\/p>\n
of self-awareness<\/p>\n
of un-defended-ness<\/p>\n
forged in the indifference<\/p>\n
of fierce landscapes<\/p>\n
along the enduring journey<\/p>\n
such becoming requires<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
It is a journey of death<\/p>\n
that leads to life<\/p>\n
Once taken by Jesus<\/p>\n
through the streets of Jerusalem<\/p>\n
and up the hill of Golgotha<\/p>\n
to the pinnacle<\/p>\n
where steel and wood<\/p>\n
pierced bone and blood<\/p>\n
to punctuate the<\/p>\n
Divine\u2019s words<\/p>\n
\u201cI love this world so much that\u2026<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Even in this horror<\/p>\n
I AM here<\/p>\n
Even in your horror<\/p>\n
I AM here<\/p>\n
Be patient<\/p>\n
Life is coming\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
And so, she waits<\/p>\n
in silence<\/p>\n
And waits<\/p>\n
in attentiveness<\/p>\n
And waits<\/p>\n
with nothing left to lose<\/p>\n
for a time to come<\/p>\n
when she will sit once again<\/p>\n
on a bar stool<\/p>\n
by a caf\u00e9 table<\/p>\n
kick off her sandals<\/p>\n
and unfold Word<\/p>\n
and Wonder<\/p>\n
through linguistic color, shape, and texture<\/p>\n
to cast new vision<\/p>\n
about death<\/p>\n
loss<\/p>\n
and grief<\/p>\n
so, others called to die on that<\/p>\n
grief-covered Golgotha hill may<\/p>\n
discover new life, too.[1]<\/a> [2]<\/a><\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n