Susan LaffertyThey dropped a crate off the truck onto our driveway. We all heard the discordant scream. Loud and clear.
Our piano.
Wrapped with care, months before, during our year in the USA.
Placed in a wooden crate. Nailed shut.
Loaded into a ship container with the rest of our belongings.
“O come…” from traffic-lined streets,
and checkout counter gridlock.
“O come…” from decorating, gift-wrapping, baking, and more.
Set aside to-do lists.
Release expectations.
Embrace expectation.
Come close.
Draw near.
Worship. 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.
