Today was one of those Sundays where no sermon could fully be formulated until the wee hours of Sunday morning. Then, when it came, I wrote about abundance – the text was about how Jesus came to give life and give it abundantly. I asked the congregation what abundance is to them. After church one of the ladies said to me, “my answer is, ‘my life.’
So then I took my after-church-nap and when I woke up I was thinking about that.
What is abundance to me?
Time with my children
Time in the sun
Time to write
Time to laugh
Time to talk to friends
Time to follow the leadings of the Spirit in my life
Time to read
Time to remember
Time to walk
Time to pray
Time to think about ideas
When scarcity feels far away.
To be loved
By my tribe
Abundance is meaningful, joyful work.
Abundance is Jesus – the Jesus I know and love – the Jesus of justice and grace and hope for the poor, the marginalized, the worried, the worn-down.
Abundance is my little sunroom where I write – I have a little desk here and an old lamp, some beloved bookshelves filled plum full with gorgeous books, a map of Norway pinned to my wall, post-it notes of quotes and poems scattered around, twinkles lights on the ceiling; and my treadmill – for when I need to get my body moving because my mind has stopped moving.
Abundance is the wind in the chimes outside
The geese honking at each other in the cornfield
How my son brushed his hair out of his eyes to smile at me as he walked by just now
And my husband clinking pots and pans around in the kitchen now as he is making supper.
Abundance every which way in this life of mine. My cup runneth over.
Thank you, thank you, thank you God.
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