Susan LaffertyWorship. In a small house group, I watch one woman sing with such joy. Tears, even.
Midlife at the time, I’ve fallen into unhealthy patterns. Critiquing content and structure. Or impatience with those leading in services and retreats.
Prideful. And forgetting priority.
Losing focus of the One we worship.
We heard it repeated. Often. “Being in the center of God’s will is the safest place to be.”
Well, yes.
But safest can be interpreted in different ways.
We were living in a city where Taliban congregated and proliferated.
One political party’s slogan read “Sell your televisions and buy guns.” As they sought to overthrow the ruling party by force.
Safest was not the first word that came to mind.
Sun beat down on flat roofs in long Karachi summers.
Electricity failed. Lines melted. Disconnecting and falling in the street.
The interior of our home was an oven. Climbing over 100 degrees at times.
We read of people dying in Chicago one summer. Why? Fans combined with heat above a certain temperature in their apartments turned those spaces into convection ovens.
Oh. We were getting cooked.
