MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA, USA. We were learning the story of God's call to Moses the day our preteens added their prayers to the canvas. "Take off your shoes," God said, "for you're standing on holy ground." The kids enjoyed walking around the large canvas surveying the art work of the others who had already painted over their prayers as they thought about what they would create themselves. One boy said to me, "I'm trying to decide whether to pray for a new video game or something else." An interesting prayer request, I thought. A few minutes later he sought me out and said, "I decided to pray for resurrection." "A new video game?" I asked. "No, resurrection for my dad," he said. The boy's dad had died a year earlier. The canvas was an invitation to articulate the thoughts on his heart. It was a structure, a form, a way to speak to God. I felt the impulse to take off my own shoes.
Monday, December 19, 2011
Standing on Holy ground
TAKE OFF YOUR SHOES Reflection by Rev. Kris Tostengard Michel, Bethlehem Lutheran Church
MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA, USA. We were learning the story of God's call to Moses the day our preteens added their prayers to the canvas. "Take off your shoes," God said, "for you're standing on holy ground." The kids enjoyed walking around the large canvas surveying the art work of the others who had already painted over their prayers as they thought about what they would create themselves. One boy said to me, "I'm trying to decide whether to pray for a new video game or something else." An interesting prayer request, I thought. A few minutes later he sought me out and said, "I decided to pray for resurrection." "A new video game?" I asked. "No, resurrection for my dad," he said. The boy's dad had died a year earlier. The canvas was an invitation to articulate the thoughts on his heart. It was a structure, a form, a way to speak to God. I felt the impulse to take off my own shoes.
MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA, USA. We were learning the story of God's call to Moses the day our preteens added their prayers to the canvas. "Take off your shoes," God said, "for you're standing on holy ground." The kids enjoyed walking around the large canvas surveying the art work of the others who had already painted over their prayers as they thought about what they would create themselves. One boy said to me, "I'm trying to decide whether to pray for a new video game or something else." An interesting prayer request, I thought. A few minutes later he sought me out and said, "I decided to pray for resurrection." "A new video game?" I asked. "No, resurrection for my dad," he said. The boy's dad had died a year earlier. The canvas was an invitation to articulate the thoughts on his heart. It was a structure, a form, a way to speak to God. I felt the impulse to take off my own shoes.
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