The organ shrieks as we enter the sanctuary. Dissonant. Avant garde notes bouncing off ancient stone floors. Filling the arched ceilings.
Discordant.
Disconcerting.
Seemingly out of place with the luminous stained glass and stately wooden pews.

The organ shrieks as we enter the sanctuary. Dissonant. Avant garde notes bouncing off ancient stone floors. Filling the arched ceilings.
Discordant.
Disconcerting.
Seemingly out of place with the luminous stained glass and stately wooden pews.
In the midst of the move, fears slip in. Without permission. A thin thread of doubt weaves its way through my mind. Second guesses undermine trust.
Trust in the One who leads us.
“Be sober-minded, be alert,” Peter says (1 Peter 5:8). Somedays I’m catching my breath and need this reminder. Front and center.
The simple Indonesian rice bowl broke.
It was a “free with purchase of dish detergent” blue and white china bowl. So common and ordinary. A reminder of my childhood.
But it slipped from my hands, hit the marble countertop in our Delhi flat and broke in two. The last straw in a long day, week, month…year.
And I broke.
Ordinary, simple vessel on the floor in pieces.