I cried today, holding the hands of two women I would never
have come to know, who would never have impacted my life, who would never have
challenged my faith, my theology and my compassion if I had never taken a risk.
I cried today, the hands of two other women on my back,
blessing me. Two more women I would
never have come to know, who would never have impacted my life, who would never
have encouraged my faith, my theology and my compassion, if I had never taken a
risk.
I cried today, a part of a circle surrounding the altar I
would never have come to, to receive bread and wine, experience celebrations of
life and of death, where I was challenged and comforted, if I had never taken a
risk.
I cried today, passing around a rain stick poked with nails
attaching six word stories about the journeys taken these past four years, hand
to hand, the sound of rain, the sound of voices, the sound of faith passed from
one to another with sorrow, with joy, all stories of taking a risk.
I cried today, marking the beginning of an ending that was
worthy of the risk.