Quare Fremueunt Gentes.
Why this tumult among nations?
This useless murmuring among peoples?
Why these futile plots, why this arrogance among the nations?
But as they were praying, the house where the disciples were was rocked.
I hear only a wind through the rafters sighing.
A sparrow flies across the porch on it’s way by the church tightly locked.
They were filled with the Holy Spirit. Is He here in this wind with the passing tractor vying?
They went out to proclaim the word of God so boldly.
I just sit and feel a presence.
Are our actions mere words, our deeds carried out so coldly?
Thoughts flying from His essence?
The moment passes. It always does. No permanence it contains.
But a tiny sliver of belief, hope and love remains.