Come into this circle of community. Come into this sacred space. Be not tentative. Bring your whole self! Bring the joy that makes your heart sing. Bring your kindness and your compassion. Bring also your sorrow, your pain. Bring your brokenness and your disappointments....

Come in. Come into this place which we make holy by our presence. Come in with all your vulnerabilities and strengths, fears and anxieties, loves and hopes. For here you need not hide, nor pretend, nor be anything other than who you are and are called to be....

Come down off the ladder. Wash out that paintbrush. Shake the sand out of your shoes. Get up off your muddy knees, and give the garden a morning off. Fold up the newspaper. Turn off the coffeepot. Close up your calendar, already filled with dates, and times, and people, and places that claim you.

Come, all you who seek truth, abide in love, and honor peace, enter into this house with thanksgiving; come into these gates with praise. Enter into this sacred space, all you who hunger for righteousness. Through these doors, all footsteps lead to the source of our being, where we shall be filled.

As we gather together this morning, May we learn to recognize and affirm The pieces of possibility -- The bits of good -- we bring. May we encourage rather than control; Love rather than possess; Enable rather than envy....

Note: This call to worship was written to be preceded by the first three sentences of "Wild Geese" by Mary Oliver (Singing the Living Tradition #490). As we enter into worship, put away the pressures of the world that ask us to perform, to take up masks, to put on brave fronts. Silence the voices...

Amid all the noise in our lives, we take this moment to sit in silence -- to give thanks for another day; to give thanks for all those in our lives who have brought us warmth and love; to give thanks for the gift of life. We know we are on our pilgrimage here but a brief moment in time....