A small group knocks at my door. They call me to follow them.
Am I needed where they are going? Or do I need to be with them?
Lord, are you in their midst?
I keep my door shut against intruders. My work, alone in this room, thus narrows.
Surely it is you who knocks. And yet I cower, afraid of what I will find when I answer.
Soften me, Lord. Let me fear not my fellows nor my duties.