Come in, friend, I am so glad it is you, it is such a relief to see you.
The house is a mess and I have not washed up. Sorry about that.
If anyone had been coming I would have had to make an effort, capital “E” but with you I can be real. I do not need to put on a face, you do not mind my early morning un-ness.
But now, please sit by the fire with me. Join me in a cup of tea and bread and butter while we talk.
Oh, yes, my Bible is here. Sure, let us look up some verses.
(Funny, my unwellness has lifted.)
Is this what it was like on the road to Emmaus, learning verse by verse, here a little, there a little, and sometimes drawing great gulps of air?
(Funny, I could tackle the washing up now.)
The modern thing is to ‘surf the internet’ to bring the ends of the earth together but you have a way of surfing the Scripture and bringing the ends of all things together. The Bible lives and breathes and pulses when you bring it together like that.
(Funny, I feel alive now, too.)
You know, it is ironic; I invited friends and neighbours to be here this morning and I was crying because none of them could come. They had more important things to do. Yet you make friendship so easy, so natural.
You stood at the door and knocked, and when I opened it you came in and took tea with me, just as you said you would in Revelation 3:20. Please have another piece of bread, it’s a pull-apart loaf, you know. Oh, there’s the doorbell. Please excuse me one moment.
Come in, my dear and meet a friend of mine … well, he was here a minute ago …
I looked around the empty room.
My friend looked at me as though I were ill … or hallucinating …or something.
It did not seem worthwhile to point to the piece of broken bread he had left on his plate.
Elizabeth Price