My weekend was spent with teenagers at church.  It was fabulous.  I mean, they were teenagers–there was texting and talk about boys/girls and running around and some screaming (okay we may have encouraged those last two).  But it was fabulous.  And it was beautiful and holy. Sometimes the holy sounds like teens running in the dark.

it is thin space
hallowed ground
filled not with hushed voices
or shuffling steps
nor traversed by reverent pilgrims
murmuring solemn prayers
but enlivened with
joy filled labor,
traversed by busy feet,
and hallowed by voices
loud and soft, joyful and tear-laden
thin space
being worn
by holy work

written June 2008

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