rhythm

I am sitting here at midnight when I have the threat of waking up five hours from now haunting me, suffering from what I can only inaccurately call whiplash and an ear twitch, and all I can think about is sitting on mismatched chairs in a circle. Some chairs were rocking pew chairs with small slots underneath that I could not quite fit my heels into. Some were heavy metallic rusted office chairs that were difficult to move. Some were lounging green lawn chairs that sloped back, perfect for getting a tan. And some still were the steps of an old run down house or the edge of a rundown checkerboard table. The air was thick and sticky and the mosquitoes were relentless. The blinding fluorescent light beaming from a second story window created unatural rays on the gravel covered in orange peels from a 1st grader's dinner. A stray dog named Lady cautiously roamed around in search of food but resisting any attention. A large tree hovered over and blocked some of the light so that the intensely bright green of the leaves looked soft and sticky to the touch. And people of all ages, ethnicities, social staus, jobs, and life stages sat around and listened to the word of God fill the air and harmonisouly dance with the sirens and dump trucks roaring past. They were in rhythm, we were in rhythm- it was a beautiful song. So I sit here with this full rich complete image of Jesus in my mind and I start to hope and pray and worry- when the people that I meet and converse with everyday be able to hear this rhythm? Will they be able to see the fluorescent light on the gravel? Will they be able to smell the orange peels and swat mosquitoes? Will they be able to catch just a small glimpse of this powerful image of Jesus in my eyes?