Ten Thousand Umbrellas

Good morning, you, there with your coffee cup.

Oh, how I love you.

You breathe my name in your prayers, on days when I cannot pray at all.  So many of you have told me, “There hasn’t been a day, Tricia.  Not a day has passed when I haven’t prayed for your family,”

or “I have prayed constantly this week, Tricia.  I have not stopped,”

or “We are still here, in this with you.”

In my mind, I picture you: an army marching through the storm, carrying ten thousand umbrellas.  The storm is every kind of scary: the clouds loom, the wind blows, the sky is gray and threatening.

You walk with me, shoulder to shoulder, your umbrellas held fiercely high.  And the storm has not swept me away.

I am humbled, my friends, by your faithfulness, your longevity, your willingness to remember.

I know I’m not the only one in a storm.  I carry an umbrella for you, too.  With you.

This morning, I raise mine alongside yours: Cheers to sunshine.

Big, splashy sticker on this day

It is December 26. This is my New Year’s Day.

In my spirit, another year is complete.

We finished dozens of anniversaries, great and small. My heart is indescribably free on this day.

There is a big, splashy sticker glittering in the box of this day on the calendar in my mind.

Today is a new day. A new year.

January 1, you’ve got nothing over this day.

Communion with Emmanuel

I struggle to direct my thoughts during Communion.

It’s such a profound, holy moment, kind of high pressure.  Think on the right things.  Engage.  Be here.  I mean, whether you believe the bread and wine are symbolic or literal, it’s the body and blood of Christ.  That’s a big deal.

Recently, my mind followed this train of thought to a new discovery.

also spelled Emmanuel,
means God with us.
Derived from Communio,
sharing in common,
An especially close relationship.
Wine.  Juice.
Bread.  Wafer.
With the people around me,
With the believers everywhere,
To my King,
and from His heart to mine,
I breathe and hear these words:

“I am in this with you.”