Flickr photo by spapaxcreative commons
Sometimes I feel so overwhelmed to find myself in ever-enlarging, ever-linking and merging circles of the family of God, that I’m afraid to speak for the blubbering tears that might come out.

So Friday night, as I grabbed Todd’s hand and pulled him toward the doors of the Charlotte Convention Center, I tried not to make eye contact with anyone, sure that the sight of God in one more face would turn me into a less mascara-ed, smaller haired version of Tammy Faye.

I’d made the trip to Charlotte for two nights in a row because I thought it’d be fun to take part in my denomination’s national assembly. But by the end of the second service, my eyes had taken in about as much beautiful community and worship and joy as these peepers could hold.

This circle of God’s family was led by smart women and beautiful men, (and vice versa!) young and old, black and white, the mildly musically talented, and the man singing opera behind me Friday night. (Whoa dude, that’s quite a joyful noise!)

And if that wasn’t enough, I had come to Charlotte already brimming with gratitude.

In the past few weeks, I’ve discovered more about the faith of people all around me, including you sweet people, my old and new friends. I’ve felt welcomed into circles of Episcopalians and Methodists, Catholics and Baptists, Quakers and Presbyterians, circles of every hue in Christ’s crayon box.

I can feel these circles merging and morphing, changing and dancing, just like the circle Karen Dresser depicts in her art.

I can’t help thinking of Psalm 133.

How good and pleasant it is
when God’s people live together in unity! It is like precious oil poured on the head,
running down on the beard,
running down on Aaron’s beard,
down on the collar of his robe. It is as if the dew of Hermon
were falling on Mount Zion.
For there the LORD bestows his blessing,
even life forevermore.
Psalm 133:1-3, Today’s New International Version

Precious indeed! Thank you for being part of my circle.Have a wonder-full Monday, y’all!

Love, Becky