Kneadingafter the kids are asleepand the day’s tidy-up’s done,kneadingunresolved jobs anddisappointment intopositive dispersal of yeast throughdough,kneading prayer,kneading thoughtof friend in need, kneadingthe lossof this or that hope,kneading hope.And pounding,pounding heaven’s door like a breadboard,pounding grace into slackand crumbling day,pounding the gateof coming kingdom,pounding the weight of the season,the wait of the harvest,the slowness of leaven,theContinue reading “Late Night Bread”
What weighs heaviest now will soon be light; what looms most stormily passes soon. Clouds cannot linger; waves must break. Because of this, we wait. This lightness feels most dense now, but the weight of glory, light as air, will fall and smother all your Now and revel in Not Yet. We call to mindContinue reading “Lent: The Wait, the Weight 4”
So the kingdom comes in mustard-seed smallness microscopic yeast invading our flatness prehistoric treasure hid in fallow ground trees unfolding out from roots too deep to see imperceptible life defying noisy death the now-and-not-yetness of ever-active grace.