puddles of love

 "We are little pots,

even the grandest, most magnificent of us.

We can't contain the downpour of your love.

And the overflow,

puddling on the ground about us,

mingles with our own senseless tears

of greed and loss and need."

There are the first lines of L. William Countryman's poem "Pots and Potter"

from his latest book, "Lovesongs and Reproaches: Passionate Conversations with God."

It reminds me of a section of this Sunday's gospel story from Luke.

Jesus tells a parable about people at a banquet jostling for the best seat at the table,

only to be told that they would have to move,

because that particular seat was "saved" for someone special.

That's always an awkward moment. And who hasn't experienced it?

Aren't we the silliest creatures?
Trying to finagle a way to be seen, heard, and known,

by those who were never designed to meet our deepest needs.

For all along God is pouring his love

down upon us to the point that it's producing puddles at our feet.

May we remember to put away our umbrellas in order to breathe in deeply of

this neverending downpour of love.

p.s. Get the book! this is just a taste of the riches you'll find between the covers.

Roberta Hiday