The preparation of Mary, mother of Jesus. Madeline L'Engle, A Cry Like a Bell , p 7. We come here looking, all of us carrying our small lamps of hope. We come here calling out, hearing each other, retelling the story of promise. Here, we reach out to God, and become the one Body of Christ, breathing together with the Holy Spirit.
Leaves turn yellow and crimson and drop from the trees.
Soon wind and rain and snow will assault our bodies and invade our spirits. But sometimes we are called outside into the cold to hunt for what we have not clearly seen, and then we feel alive. We live in the tension of this waiting, searching time. Giver of New Life, although you call us from our comfort into newness, too often we want to stay within our habits, and we refuse the adventure that you offer. The first Sunday of each month we switch to a Communion Liturgy here.