March 2025 Monthly Letter

Dear Reconcilers,

This month’s letter is from contributing writer, Lloyd Briggie and the accompanying poem is by Sam Walter Foss.  

I’m privileged to work at a Macy’s fulfillment center with colleagues from various countries having ten different languages and dialects. 

Occasionally I’ve introduced my perspective that “everyone is a child of God, limited edition.” 

Scriptures inform us that we are all created in the image of God, male and female. Indeed, everyone is hardwired for love, both receiving and sharing, for God is love. 

I love seeing everyone in my world, and the world, through the lens of Jesus, reconciled to God! Noting that “God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them,” I see and treat everyone as reconciled, “persona grata” – accepted and welcomed. 2 Corinthians 5:14-6:2 [NIV] 

At the death of Jesus, the temple curtain of separation tore. Alienation with God ended. The Father seemed to say, “Come home where you belong into my family. In Jesus you are accepted.” 

It’s like the prodigal son, lost, separated and shamefaced walking up the path to home and falling into the arms of his exuberant endearing father, persona grata. 

I delight in simply making kind, accepting eye contact in the spirit of God’s grace.  

Lloyd Briggie is an Elder Emeritus of Grace Communion International. He and his wife Marcia reside in Lafayette, TN and do weekly jail ministry.

House by the Side of the Road
By Sam Walter Foss (1858-1911)

There are hermit souls that live withdrawn
In the place of their self-content;
There are souls like stars, that dwell apart,
In a fellowless firmament;
There are pioneer souls that blaze the paths
Where highways never ran-
But let me live by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

Let me live in a house by the side of the road
Where the race of men go by-
The men who are good and the men who are bad,
As good and as bad as I.
I would not sit in the scorner’s seat
Nor hurl the cynic’s ban-
Let me live in a house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

I see from my house by the side of the road
By the side of the highway of life,
The men who press with the ardor of hope,
The men who are faint with the strife,
But I turn not away from their smiles and tears,
Both parts of an infinite plan-
Let me live in a house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

I know there are brook-gladdened meadows ahead,
And mountains of wearisome height;
That the road passes on through the long afternoon
And stretches away to the night.
And still I rejoice when the travelers rejoice
And weep with the strangers that moan,
Nor live in my house by the side of the road
Like a man who dwells alone.

Let me live in my house by the side of the road,
Where the race of men go by-
They are good, they are bad, they are weak,
they are strong,
Wise, foolish – so am I.
Then why should I sit in the scorner’s seat,
Or hurl the cynic’s ban?
Let me live in my house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.