On this Monday between Pentecost and Trinity Sunday I sit on my small screened porch during early morning hours before routines or obligations must begin. There is a gentle rain....the dripping of lingering moisture in the clouds. Gentle breezes are tossling the heads of the trees. A single candle flame extends an invitation to dwell in the center of God's heart as it pulses in perfect ryhthm.
How am I to respond to the mysterious presence of the Holy Spirit? What human conditions or expectations will be adjusted or softened today? If I attend to Christ's hand adjusting the chin of my attention, what will God have me see, think and do? How will I be ignited? Will the resulting energy be propelling...or creative...or fruitful?
Yesterday's scripture and hymnody were replete with powerful words of amazing potential for the community of God's Children, the Church. The readings told of rushing wind and tongues of fire that infused the community with the power of passionate spiritual communication. The scene was dramatically different from the one I am experiencing this morning....No rushing wind no shower of fire in these moments.
Yet I utter again in my prayer... "Come Holy Spirit!"
When we speak words of authentic love...or truth...or wisdom...those are the moments when the miracle of God's Word is in harmony with our breath...our voice. We can't strategize or choreograph these moments. They are given to us. As we pray and obey the nudges provided in that alignment with Christ, we may become more effective instruments of God's Song of wholeness. This is the song that gathers the whole world back together into One.
Come, Holy Spirit, Come!
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