Thank you for that, Theodore. Way too long a story, but part of why I want to connect: over a decade ago I started visiting a new church in downtown Asheville that described itself as a ministry with the poor and homeless. Not to them, but with them. In one of the early services, a woman came in and lay down in a pew, fell asleep, and started snoring loudly. The young pastor didn't ignore her. "One of the hardest things to do when you're on the streets," he observed "is get a good night's sleep. Isn't it wonderful that she can do that here." Suddenly she wasn't interrupting what we were doing--she was the reason we were doing what we were doing. Experiences like that encourage me to look for beauty in the most unexpected places, even the broken ones, even in myself.

I haven't done much with that congregation since the start of Covid, which disrupted many of their activities, but I have just started going back this spring. Your poetry captured so much of what I see and feel when I'm there. Take care.