You are welcome here.
What door has God shut?
Not the one that opens one heart toward another.
What grace has God denied?
Not the grace which receives each other whole,
sees each other truly.
You are wanted here.
What place has God withheld?
Not the place of shelter, of recognition.
You are valued here.
What hope has God reclaimed?
Not the promise of life, of new beginnings.
You are welcome here.
God, the host, never changes from love to love.
And we, in God, do not see
each other in need,
without making space
for slow and patient revelation.
God’s image seen in seed
and hope of spring,
in the mirror smudged with dirt and chipped at its edge –
the rock rubbed and polished
to an original shine,
that the light within can resurface
to cast its beam.
Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
July 2020
‘Jesus entered Jericho and was passing through. A man was there by the name of Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax collector and was wealthy. He wanted to see who Jesus was, but because he was short he could not see over the crowd. So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore-fig tree to see him, since Jesus was coming that way.
When Jesus reached the spot, he looked up and said to him, “Zacchaeus, come down immediately. I must stay at your house today.” So he came down at once and welcomed him gladly.
All the people saw this and began to mutter, “He has gone to be the guest of a sinner.”
But Zacchaeus stood up and said to the Lord, “Look, Lord! Here and now I give half of my possessions to the poor, and if I have cheated anybody out of anything, I will pay back four times the amount.”
Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house, because this man, too, is a son of Abraham.’
Luke 19:1-9
Living Tree Poetry 