Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I’ll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
I have a confession to make. I’ve been visiting hell for the last decade or so.
Sometimes I had traveling companions.
We, the collective, are slowly stepping forward after an extended reckoning period, putting one foot in front of the other as we are resurrected from the ugly underworld of wronging,
pulled along a slipstream of joy toward the righting of our lives.
So begins our sojourn … a year in the blue house.
It will be real, messy, difficult.
No doubt, we will be beautifully blessed through the living.
I am certain there will be pain at times.
We may be asked to rendezvous briefly with the wronging or the reckoning.
We will do our best to remain strong in the faith, brave, and loving in all that we do.
Moving forward as a small bit of lamplight reveals the next right step before us.
Meet us there … in that grass … in that field … as this particular year in these particular lives unfold. We’ll vulnerably offer our story, you can safely offer your’s, we’ll take communion together.