Invited

So when God invited me to His choir practice, I said yes.

He carried me like an infant in His enormous arms.

I usually feel like a newborn when I’m with Him, helpless and soft.

He took me to this room on the other side of town,

Mostly stone and earthy wood. A cricket chirped outside.

Dimmish lights. I could tell the acoustics would be good.

When the room filled with music, my heart inflated.

God held me against his massive chest, and sound

Thrummed through my body. I shuttered and shook.

I breathed pure song.

I’ve always liked to imagine what it would feel like to be a baby

In someone else’s strong, brave arms.

The way my daughter puts her face into the crook of my shoulder,

The way my son feigns sleep so that I will carry him in from the car.

I looked around the room at all these warm glowing faces

And bright white robes—

Robes of light and righteousness and glory,

And I wondered,

“Who does all the laundry?”