Transitions

I escaped from suburbia last night! Number Two Son plays in two bands and last night one played at the Cavern on lower Greenville. It's been awhile since I've been in nightclubs and I had to make the transition to a different set of traditions: I took a nap to prepare for the 11pm downbeat; prepared to carry only cash, keys and driver's license (and camera as the other world mom); find parking where you don't get towed; pay a cover fee and get a hand stamp; get carded (he was kind enough to look); and stake your ground on the floor. My escort, Number One Son gave me the lecture about giving up your ground - it seems that I was moving aside too easily when people started coming in to hear the band. I enjoyed hearing the band play, and I was glad Number Two Son invited us to come. This morning I'm making the transition back to another world, my 8am downbeat called work: washing the smoke from my hair, the stamp from my hand, and the cobwebs from my head.

My prayer for the congregation?

Dear God, help us to remember that each community has a set of traditions. We have a set of traditions that over the years has formed a rhythm that can induce a setting of reverence, anticipation of worship, and a calming in our souls. We see the stained glass and the cross, hear the sounds of the music and familiar texts, touch the Bible and the wooden pews, and we know instantly where we are. Remind us, that these are traditions that man has created to aid in our worship, and you only require that we draw near to you and feed your sheep, as you continue to feed us through the taste of the bread and the wine. Help us to remember that not everyone knows instantly the traditions of our faith. Not everyone is automatically drawn into worship by our rhythms. Some follow the beat of a different drummer. Help us to blend the two beats into a chorus of praise in your name. Help us to transition all of our worlds into your world. Amen.