He makes the common Holy

I've heard more than once that it depends not on our ability, but on our availability.
Usually, that seems trite.
Tonight, it seems true.
Meeting in the Parish hall, with masking tape on the lights above our heads and wheels under the legs of the communion table, I saw the common and was reminded of the Holy.
Availability seems all I have to offer and it seems like a bit of a cop out.
Yet what I have I give him . . . give my heart.
So I am doing my best to not get in the way, to not make things happen of my own accord, to not stir the pot.
These are the ramblings of availability, seeking assignment.
These are the ponderings of faith in the winter, when it takes intentionality to go out into the cold, for surely no one would exit the warmth of their home just for the sheer fun of it.