Holy and Held
A short offering for the quietly hungry
The well-learned, holy, and proper are well represented. They don’t need me much.
The angry and hostile… often carrying real wounds and honest pain… have plenty of honorable spokespeople too.
But the left out.
The never embraced.
The confused and quiet.
The unsure and tangled up.
The open but never poured into.
The longing, but fine enough to be left alone.
The un-desperate but needy still.
The wondering and ignored.
The assumed.
The left alone.
They could use a proxy. They could use someone to hold their space.
May I represent them. May I raise their voice to the rafters for a moment. May I name them as holy and held.
The ones who are mostly confused by it all. But oh so curious. If only there was space for sacred exploration. If only there was a place for them.
The ones who would love to have the conversation but have no idea where or to whom to turn.
The packed away.
The ignored for too long.
The spiritually hungry but with no ticket to the buffet.
The ones with baggy eyes and wrung out hearts, wondering what it’s all for. What it’s all about.
They are me and I am they.