Counting chickens

Clergy used to be paid in chickens and eggs (and other such things).  I*m back to figuring out what I will be when I arrive, much less where I will be when I arrive. God knows.  Of course God knows.  And pay?  Cups of coffee and an occasional chicken.  My friend says God holds up placards for me.  Yep.  It*s been a multi-placarded week.  I*m not sure how many placards I will need.  Probably a few more.  Almost certainly a few more.

I*m not much for labels.

I do believe Child of God

Is plenty good enough.

Yet

Yet

I still wonder

When I will ever arrive.

If

I will ever arrive.

And

If I do,

Where will I be?

I wonder

How to market myself.

After all

I*m not much for labels.

I wonder

If anyone will ever find me

Other than

By word of mouth.

I wonder if the practice

Of offering something

Hot to drink

A discerning heart

Will net anything more

Than the occasional chicken.

I wonder if anyone

Will know me

As God does.

I wonder if God is the only one

Who needs no explanation

And I can simply rest here

Awhile,

Count the occasional chicken

And

Wait.

Simply wait.