Emerging from the congregation yesterday, the Bible limped to the atar. The woman carrying it as part of the procession had a limp. Not a generative one, but rather the result of a pulled muscle or a strained back. She limped up the three steps and reached with both arms as far as she could to tenuously place the word of God on the corner of the altar.
As I approached the intention to preach the word of God, I could not help but understand fully that all of us limp as we deliver the Bible. We emerge from our lives, from our tensions, from our pain and happiness with words for our spirit. The scriptures are best understood through a limp, humble and honest, worn and pulled.
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