living our part

my toddler is in time-out
for smacking a boy on the head.
the boy adds "bbrr" power to a truck
while big sister hides behind the comfy chair
where mommy nurses baby.
another baby naps.
it's Church in a nursery.

my voice is starting to crack
for singing to the hard-of-hearing.
my husband hands a song book
to an old friend who enters the room
where another old friend is rising to speak.
one gentleman naps.
it's Church in a nursing home.

my bottom is hurting
for sitting on a jagged walnut hull.
by brother-in-law plays the guitar he built
so we can sing a few choruses
and then have prayer time.
do ants even nap?
it's Church in the back yard.

my vision is blurry
for squinting at the contact lens in my palm.
dan talks around his toothbrush
of conversations with friends
and our prayers and God's answers.
our three boys nap.
it's Church in the bathroom.

everywhere, in every way, those who claim the Name
are the Church.

because we're not Home yet.