The Lean Before Law

I sat in that pulpit forty years. Forty years of voices, of songs, of questions in the back rows.

I thought goodness came from the words I spoke. But the building on Faith Lane remembers better.

It remembers the chair someone left behind, the coffee urn that never went cold. It remembers the Thursday food pantry, and the name we never wrote down.

Before I ever called it law, something in me leaned to catch the falling. That lean — that is the law.