I have answered this question many times in my life…Who do you say that I am? And while there are a few elements in common over the years, I am equally grateful to know that there is no limit…that there remains the impossibility of containing; that more remains than I can possibly hope for or imagine. I will never cease to find that incredibly enticing and an absolute thrill.

When the question presented itself again last Sunday during the Gospel Reading for the feast of Saints Peter and Paul, I thought I’d give it a go again, as I am here and now.

Who Do You Say…

You are my rising
over, again, and once more;
You are the hummingbird,
sensed, only sideways seen, reason for awe;
You are strength of the wind
that blesses with lilac and hyacinth,
pine, earth, and the crash of the sea;

You are the just ripe, right today, plum,
shared with those who hunger;
the call of justice for those straining to hear it;
you are the refreshment of laughter and drink,
the salvation of story and someone to listen;
You are the way that beckons us; the now
of love from which we can not be parted;

You…

You are Word and the fullness of Silence;
the notes that remain as balm for the rafters
after the music has opened and welcomed
the weary inside its fold.
You are wisdom of experience, truth, and grace; you
are invitation, journey, unending Mystery;
You are Home.

Kimberly M. King