Litany of the chainsaw

VRMMMM.

The incessant roar fills our ears morning, midday and sometimes into the night.

VRMMMM.

Again we seek freedom from the storms that rage around us, this time threatening to bury us beneath the broken limbs, trees and our own roof.

VRMMMM.

Already we are starved for the freedom to gather and hug. We miss our families, our church family. We long to be back with our social groups; we hunger to worship with others.

Even as those chainsaws re-opened our driveways and road, we are reminded of trips, travel, visits and celebrations that have been forfeited in the past year.

Yes, we have been freed to return to the grocery store for supplies but is there fear in walking those isles? Am I safe? Am I safe? Am I safe?

VRMMMM.

The incessant roar fills our ears because neighbor works beside neighbor. One checking in upon another; being checked in on. Batteries shared. The gospel lived out.

Over the past 50 weeks we have made major discoveries as to how to be community in the midst, the joy of getting off the spinning wheel, the delight of family time and perhaps even a new, four-legged family member.

VRMMMM.

The chainsaw tells the story of fear and brokenness. The chainsaw also tells the story of hope for the future.

Friends in the incessant VRMMMM hear 'things will get better'.

Pastor Leah

{A compilation of your hearts and thoughts and imagination.}