How do we become a vessel for the Lord? How do we become containers for the grief and sin and sickness and trauma and joy and curiosity and humor all around? What do we do as magpies for the Lord*, our eyes wide looking for shiny bits from the other world, the one we know is possible? What do we do when we become obsessed with a kingdom made for the poor, when we ourselves are not poor? What do we do when we long to crack, to spill just the tiniest bit of all that we have held and accumulated so tight?
It will be a mess, there is no doubt about it. It will feel, and look, like a catastrophe. But it’s ok. I never truly wanted to be a pristine vase, high and stately on a shelf. Really, I just want to be a part of the great mosaic, my fragments cemented alongside the fortunes of all the other broken souls.
(every Tuesday my husband and I fast and pray. We are praying that white supremacy will come crumbling down. We are giving back to God the people and the burdens that we have placed on our own shoulders. We are banging on the floors when we no longer have words**. But when I have them, I will try and write down the prayers as I remember them on these days. would you like to join us?)
**thanks to my new friend Melissa for this advice