Response to Moses

I believe that this week liturgical art is my personal favorite. Maybe it was because Phil Renfrow, an architect, ran up to me after service and said, “Before I read the description in the bulletin, I thought you had created The Sydney Opera House with Dolly Parton as the conductor!”

Henry and I skipped coffee hour for something a little stronger at Starbucks. I had a meeting and sent Henry on his way home. I think we both wanted to spend time on the couch, resting after celebrating Shannon and Will’s upcoming nuptials. Their parents hit it off smashingly. We followed up with cooing over Jed’s pictures on Sarah’s cell phone. I guess it probably was a good idea not to bring him to the party after all.

When I made it home from my meeting, Henry told me that Moses had an accident. Apparently you shouldn’t transport him in your shirt pocket. Seems he lost his head, well, upper torso, while crossing 7th Street. He said that once he realized Moses was missing half his body, he ran back to retrace his steps. He found Moses in the middle of the street. One of his match stick arms was missing. I haven’t heard of any cars catching on fire in the last 24 hours. Let’s hope the humidity will prevent the march from lighting.

This morning I went over to meet with Amy. She said that everyone was very weepy yesterday, more so than usual. I made it through without shedding any tears. I saved them until I got home. Always the encourager, Henry asked me if I had been listening to the sermon. I am wading in the water.

After he said that, I could see myself almost waist high. My hands rest comfortably on top, elbows slightly bent. I have no idea what my promise land will be, but I think that one step might include a reception to my art, with a few bottles of wine from Proof. The date is tentatively set for Thursday, October 30th. Mark your calendars. All are welcome.