A Precious Soul
This morning, I got to see my pastor preach from a hammock.
He swung back and forth, rocked by the fall breeze, sipping apple cider.
Or at least, his soul did.
Red and yellow leaves fluttered and danced around his soul, which was at rest.
His soul was in a hammock, while his weak and pain-filled body, ravaged from cancer, sat supported on a goldenrod chair in front of a microphone and a room full of people of varied emotions.
Agothos, ἀγαθός, ή, όν, he says.
“God is agothos.” He says, with a weak voice, during what is likely his last sermon.
“God is good. He is good in nature.”
His voice, frail and fragile, deliver words of deep rest that thunder in the room.
“God’s character is 100% good. He takes evil and arranges it for good.”
Last week, he visited hospice.
This week, my eyes are fixed on a man…
View original post 106 more words