Dear Church,

I tried to alert you to what you were missing.
Your curiosity, at least, made some of you turn around and look, check your pockets even, to see what of value you had dropped.
But perhaps you could not miss that which you never truly believed you needed.
Now you are the ones who are missing.
And as one who holds out this treasure, I am filled with sadness, pity and compassion, for you.

I tried to tell you who you are missing.
Deep down, I believe some of you have noticed the void in your midst.
But your programme of possibilities is thrown, rug like, over her puzzling space.
Fully occupied by other valuable and precious causes,
Whilst sweeping her, and others, once more from your view.

I tried to tell you it’s you who are missing.
Missing more than you can ask for or imagine.
Missing belonging, missing beloved-ness,
Missing a blessing that has nothing to do with ease.
Grace that will find its way to bless another, regardless.

This post was inspired by a book I read recently by Micha Boyett, (author, speaker and, like me, a parent of a child with Down syndrome)
The book is called ‘Blessed are the rest of us: How Limits and Longings Make Us Whole’ and I found myself profoundly moved and challenged by it.
Thank you, Micha.