Not the leftover pizza I ate 4 days ago before going to church. A homeless shelter that also provides meals in Philadelphia.
I recall after a morning of reorganizing the storage warehouse that really was the size of a garage except a higher ceiling, we headed back upstairs where we led a worship service.
I recall the excitement in the room, the joy flowing around, the expression of thanks to God. More than I sadly see in a lot of churches today. People who have little except the clothes they wear, incomparably rich in love, freely giving it out.
Father, teach me to love, and be loved. Teach me the way of being vulnerable, of opening my gates to let traffic in and out. Teach me to open windows so that your Spirit comes in, stirring things around. Teach me to open doors and let people in. Teach me to look beyond myself to others who also open their doors to invite me in. Teach me to love and be loved.