Lately I've been thinking about how God works through us, and how absurd, really, it is that He trusts us to take care of one another at all. I feel like Professor Trelawney from Harry Potter. I'm mostly wrong, mostly silly, mostly laughable in my attempts to follow the Holy Spirit or participate in the kingdom of God in any way. But occasionally I am overcome, and love comes sputtering out in spite of my personal hysteria. And when it happens I almost never recognize it for what it is. I usually shake my head and go back to shuffling down the hallway, muttering to myself and trying to remember what I was looking for.
But don't worry; I haven't taken to drinking the cooking sherry yet ...
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