KINGDOM

This is the Kingdom.

A brother with a burden for women; a sister with a burden for men.

This is the Kingdom.

Potluck dinner around a table.

This is the Kingdom.

Singing spontaneously without instruments, just voices.

This is the Kingdom.

A slow-speaking brother, but when he prays, his words bubble out like a quick-flowing mountain brook.

This is the Kingdom.

When he stops singing the room erupts in claps and silence, both.

This is the Kingdom.

And when he tells his story, tears drip down Sister’s face, our hearts gasp, and yet he does not speak with any hint of anger.

This is the Kingdom.

He prays the American church awake, back on its feet.

This is the Kingdom.

Let me not forget this I whisper to the Spirit.

Our stories are vastly different: ten siblings, a once child soldier in Sierra Leone now a pastor, one who makes fine art, one who takes care of women, ones who open their new home in servant hospitality, the girl-child in her jammies, the brother who needs a job, the sister exploring her gifts, and on, and on, for always.

This is the Kingdom.