Watching the water trickle down the front window, listening to Christmas music while Sal makes his delicious blackberry crepe. Despite his best effort, and I'm sure it was an excellent espresso pour, I've still not acquired that taste.
I was just saying to Heather that food is a spiritual discipline. The community that eats together has, at least, stories about eating together. My guess is they'll have stories about much else as well.
I found this community because of rain. More accurately, because of a sermon about rain. I had just moved back to LA four years ago. From lessons learned the painful way, I knew that one of the first things I wanted to secure was a spiritual community. So I went looking for familiar faces at Crosswalk church in Redlands. Figured there would be some PUC alumni there to connect with.
The sermon was about rain. Samir said we often see rain as punctuation between sunny times. We experience rain as something that happens in between, an ordeal to be endured, and if possible, accelerated. The quicker we get through the rain, the sooner we can dance with sun again. But what if rain has it's own value? What if there are joys only rain can bring? Have you never danced in the rain?
Am I hearing this guy right? I've heard this before, but not in an Adventist church. Not from the front. He probably mis-spoke. I'll keep listening for a retraction.
Never came. He kept getting deeper and deeper, 'til we're neck-deep in a puddle of truth, and I'm sitting on the edge of my seat wondering who is this man that dares to love rain?
After the sermon, I introduced myself and thanked him for conveying those words. He asked me where I went to church and I said I hadn't found that yet. Then he said to me, "go to Hollywood; Ryan Bell is doing great work over there and he needs some help..."
Happy to spend today with Sal, then Dennis, then Leslie, Cecilia, Martin and Scott, while the sky over Los Angeles weeps gentle tears of joy, and the sun shines elsewhere, an ellipsis between rains.
Goodnight, Beautiful...
Goodnight Strender
A poem by Langston Hughes, "April Rain Song"
ReplyDeleteLet the rain kiss you
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops
Let the rain sing you a lullaby
The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk
The rain makes running pools in the gutter
The rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night
And I love the rain.
thanks for the great poem, Scott. Sorry about not making it to Tribe. Cowan and I had talked about getting together at 2pm. Turned into a 5:20 that didn't get done until 7 something.
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