Let us place ourselves in the presence of Divine Mystery, as I read a poem by Sudka Kristmukti from India. It is called “More than Enough.”
“Something is better than nothing,” I say to myself.
Still another voice persists [and questions]:
“Will my gift, which appears so meager, count amidst this sea of other offerings?”
I ache with doubt.
And yet I saw how my leaking faucet filled a bucket last night- one drop at a time.
More isn’t always the most, and less isn’t always the least.
Approachability. Availability. Dependability.
Listening ears. Understanding heart.
Words of encouragement,
Being present when it matters most.
Selflessness and the gift of self.
If the smallest act of even one life becomes significant enough,
It might just make a world of difference.
The endless possibilities lie with the One
Who can use the whole of what we think is merely a mite, a part.
Here and now, if we simply present
Whatever we are, whatever we can, whatever we have,
Somehow it will be more than enough,
More than worthwhile.
Something is better than nothing.
And nothing is worse than nothing at all.
(Adapted from Sudha Khristmukti, Alive Now, September/October, 2009.)
