I sit here in a busy coffee shop,
hearing muddled conversations all around me.
People talking about this and that,
seriousness in voices,
I then look forward and see the busy street in front of me.
Vehicles flying by,
in a hurry to get somewhere.
So much to do,
to many places to go,
but do You, God, even get a glancing thought?
Or maybe its,
Anything and everything accept You.
So much going on,
so many distractions,
so much worry,
and yet You wait;
waiting for Your children to snap out of their busy daze.
I wish I could just wave my hand and stop the busyness,
so people could listen to You.
But would they?
May I never be too busy to listen for You.
The Pastor -|—