On my first endeavor as a vendor, I watch. With scenes from yesterday’s Black Friday reports still fresh in mind, I watch.
Everyone is searching. Some for that one perfect gem. Others will pick up anything. They’re searching for a deal; searching for a gift; searching for a treasure; searching for a lift – something to make them full.
Full of excitement; full of joy; full of satisfaction. Full, somehow. Somehow, full.
The empty eyes search. They re-search. The empty hands reach. They touch. They clutch. They spend. And then, they begin again.
The eyes of my seven-year-old tell a different story, though. They open wide as she remembers what day tomorrow is – Sunday. She realizes we will be absent from church.
“What if it’s communion day!? We have to take communion!”
Her mind begins to search.
“We’ll get some bread. And some juice. I’ll break it up…and, and, we’ll use the coffee creamer containers for the juice. I’ll wash them out. Make sure you save them! Don’t throw them out! And I’ll serve communion for us. I’ll give a lesson for everyone. It will be on Matthew. How about that, Mom?”
Her eyes begin to search. They search for approval.
“Forgiveness. Yes. Ok, Mia. You can lead our church service tomorrow. That will be nice. We all need some forgiveness around here.”
Desperation amid desperation. One for the world. Another for grace. And the wisdom of a child teaches her teacher once again. She is his body, given for me today.
“Mustard is a humble plant…a modest little bush. What a beautiful garden image of how the kingdom of God takes over the world – a small, subtle, humble invasion of goodness and grace.” ~Shane Claiborne
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