Grace at the margins

He walked slowly in the crowd.

Each person designated

to call for help and hope

and she touched the hem.

He told stories of seeds and lilies,

each person wanting more;

gathering to hear and ask

for heavenly wholeness.

He shared his quiet space

his moment with his Dad

and thousands crowded near

with fish and bread he fed them.

He stood before Pilate

his heart beating fast

and thronging him his people

egged on, called, ‘Crucify!’

Pierced hands and feet

and failing organs,

jostling for room they scoffed,

‘Get yourself down from there!’

The tomb empty and cold,

he stood in the garden.

Just one waited alone

He called her,  “Mary.”

We scorn him now at greater cost.

He stands in our midst to help.

He never will condemn

for love is only love.

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margins are a great place sometimes because it is where change happens fastest but it is also a horrible place when we are stuck in them and grace is the moment when we can see that someone cares.

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