Tribute Poem for our 26 year Ministry at NLF by Emily Hazel

One of the great highlights of our celebration last week was this incredible poem by a beautiful and gifted poet in our church. It is so fashioned and shaped and nuanced to our journey at NLF I was in awe. It is evident from the poem that Emily has been watching and listening and personally experiencing the journey as well. With deep gratitude I say thank you to Emily. UNDER THESE GREEN LEAVES by Emily Ruth Hazel Dedicated to Pastors Pete and Geri Scazzero ~ Presented September 27, 2013 ~ Queens, New York City TWENTY-SIX YEARS to arrive at this day. Another doorway: after all the transformations you have ushered us through, now we frame this space for you. What started growing years ago in a sidewalk crack in Queens has taken hold—its roots now reaching deep, uplifting even concrete. The ministry you planted has become a canopy of shade and shelter. Only God could have imagined these generous branches, how wide they would spread. Under these green leaves, the next generation is emerging out of this fertile ground. In the beginning, you stood alone at the edge of what you knew as waves redefined their boundaries and brought you to your knees. You waded in and walked out your convictions with courage. Letting God revise your stories, you’ve inspired us to offer up our own imperfect journeys. We have learned from you how to recognize the God who comes to us disguised as a choir director, keeping us in tune with the Spirit; as an electrician, untwisting our thinking, untangling communication wires; as a surgeon, carefully opening our hearts that we may be healed. You have taught us to work with purpose, whatever we do, and to savor the taste of Sabbath; to listen and to honestly express our flammable, fragile feelings without trespassing upon the dignity of others. You have shown us how to move beyond the walls between us and within us. You have given us language for living, handed us tools to build bridges across Queens Boulevard, all those lanes of international traffic. For inviting us into the conversation of your lives; for realigning the spines of so many families, one couple at a time; for shepherding us toward those still waters that are still waiting for us to rest beside them, ready to reflect us back to ourselves— we will always be grateful to you. May you be filled at God’s table of abundance as you have filled us like hand-rolled cannoli. May you be blessed for multiplying your family recipe for loving well; for kneading new rhythms into our daily bread; for serving this locally grown community your wild-caught wisdom. We have taped your words inside our medicine cabinets, and morning by morning, we are refreshed by remembering. May you too be washed by holy words hidden within the ordinary moments of the day as you are renewed when you wake to the smell of ocean breezes in the summer. May you leave your doors propped open and let the wind of the Spirit blow through you, carrying seeds of new life to every corner of the world. May God be your trusted travel agent and may peace be your companion, quiet in the backseat, when you are on the right road, though you may never know where you are going. May you always be willing to stop and ask for directions, even if the answer is simply, Go south. As you keep climbing, may grace be the only rock on which you stand. And in the silence of the desert, may cactus flowers surprise you like a sunset breaking into bloom. May you be welcomed everywhere your travels take you; may you linger in doorways like this one long enough to be embraced. And as the word goes forth, may you pause to be present here in this bright moment, God leading you, and us, into the next.