Gatherings at the Little House: Thursday's Reflection

During the last few days our home has been filled with Spirit. The

Spirit of laughter and new friendships. The Spirit of connection. The Spirit of response to our true callings and essence. The Spirit of blessing as one leaves our midst, but remains in our hearts. 

Most days our Little House is quiet. True, I meet my spiritual direction clients here and the walls absorb our reflections. True, our grandson Peter sometimes is here after school, chatting about his day, teasing his Papa about this and that. And now with the windows open we hear the neighborhood children enjoying outside play, but inside our house we move through our days with quiet contentment, tending to our tasks and our pleasures. 

How good it has been these last few days to fill the house with lively conversation and a welcoming sense of community. Sunday evening ten of us gathered for an informal potluck supper, and Tuesday morning the women of Opening to Spirit, a monthly group I have led focused on spiritual practice, assembled to offer blessings to one of our participants before she leaves on a big adventure. And that afternoon the women in my writing group met, each one in our usual living room spot, as if huddled around a campfire, to share our latest efforts. 

 I loved preparing for each of these circles of Spirit. 

I welcomed each guest in my heart even before the doorbell rang or someone crossed the threshold. And I thought about the often-quoted verse, "Where ever two or more are gathered in My name, there I am with them." (Matthew 18:20)

                 As I lay the fork near the plate,
                 let me remember this is Your table, not mine.
                 As I set the water glasses down
                 and fold the napkins, let me be reminded
                 that every setting at this table
                 is Yours, not mine.

                 Each one who will partake of this meal
                 is a particular someone You love, a someone
                 You have made and whom You sustain.
                 In You nothing and no one is forgotten.
                 How vast and providential is the memory
                 with which You keep us all. 
                                            from "Setting the Table"
                                            Being Home, A Book of Meditations
                                            Gunilla Norris

The house has returned to quiet now, but the gifts of fellowship and communion remain. I feel nurtured and fed, even as we have offered food to others. I feel the Presence of Spirit. 

An Invitation
When do you feel Spirit's presence? I would love to know.