Spirit/Wind

A favorite image of the Spirit for me comes towards the end of the movie How To Make An American Quilt. Some folks would call it a chick flick, but not so. It is a wonderful story of how love has entered and changed the lives of several women who are part of a quilting circle. They share their stories with Finn, granddaughter and great-niece of two of the women. Finn is finishing writing her dissertation—after having abandoned a few along the way. The finished document is on the desk when a wind storm begins, blowing the pages through the window and about the town. The wind disturbs the well-laid plans and static relationships of the women. Through its power and disruption it brings about reconciliation and recommitment for several of the women.

While all metaphors and analogies fall short of the reality, I like this image of the Spirit/Wind because it reminds me that my well-laid plans are often meant for the purpose of keeping relationships and life static. When I have everything neatly arranged in a satisfactory fashion, suddenly God’s Spirit blows in through the window disrupting my neat order and plans. I am faced with God’s creating power. I am invited to enter into that whirlwind of power to allow God to stir up grace within me and about me.

Sometimes I welcome that Spirit/Wind, but sometimes, I confess, I resist it. And that is when its power is most needed to stir me from complacency or resignation, to move me towards the mystery of a future lived fully in God’s grace.

I invite you to see where God’s Spirit/Wind blows through the windows of your life to draw you out of whatever holds you in complacency or resignation, and move you into the fullness of God’s grace.

John 3:8: The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”

Good Thing/Bad Thing

Several years ago, we started doing a recap of our day by lifting up one good thing, and one bad or not-so-good thing. Sometimes we try to sneak by with an “oh, it was all good, or okay,” but on the whole we try to honor it. This practice helps us put voice to our experiences. It helps us to clarify them.

Usually the good thing is fairly simple and straightforward. I confess that I don’t always put a whole lot of detail into the not-so-good thing in particular. I don’t think an adolescent should have to deal with all the worries of an adult, but I do think it is good for them to be aware that adults deal with worries. I do sometimes bring up something where “I blew it.” I’m not perfect, and sometimes I cause the not-so-good thing. I need to be honest and admit it.

This practice is akin to a spiritual discipline called Examination of Conscience. Where have I loved as Christ loves? Where have I not acted in a loving way? Where have I heard God in the moments of the day? Where have I shut my ears, and my heart? Where have I seen Christ in the least of these? Where have I averted my eyes?

Good thing today? I witnessed students really wrestle with a tough predicament in one’s internship and heard as they offered genuine wisdom and insight.

Not-so-good thing today? I’m getting bogged down in details that fog my vision and make it difficult for me to see and hope clearly.

Really good thing? That even on days when I blow it, or find hope difficult, God meets me in the moments of my days, and holds me in the darkness of night, offering me healing grace.

Psalm 63:5-7

My soul is satisfied as with a rich feast, and my mouth praises you with joyful lips when I think of you on my bed, and meditate on you in the watches of the night; for you have been my help, and in the shadow of your wings I sing for joy.

The Runaway Heart

Several years ago, a Bible study for children used a little book called The Runaway Heart. I can’t find it anymore but I think it’s a good “story” for us all. It goes something like this:

The heart was doing its work of pumping blood around the body when it looked around and thought, “I am the most important part of this body. Without me, the body can’t live. And they don’t even realize it. Look at the rest of them, thinking they are so important. I think I will just run away.”

So the heart ran away. It rolled down a hill, enjoying its freedom and thinking about how much the others would miss it when they realized it was gone. That would show them! Without eyes to see where it was going, the heart ran into a big rock and couldn’t go any further. It sat there pumping for all its might, but no blood was coming into it to be filled with oxygen and pumped out to anywhere else.

It just sat there beating, flub-flub, flub-flub. As it sat, it wished that it could see where it was, or hear any sounds. It wished it had the lungs close by for company. It wished it had hands to feel its pulse beat. It wished it had a voice to call for help, but it just sat there beating, feeling lonely, and to tell the truth a whole lot silly for having run away in the first place.

Suddenly gentle hands came and picked up the runaway heart, cleaning off the dirt, and placed it back where it belonged. The heart flubbed for joy; blood was flowing through it again. It was back in the body, doing it’s important work so that the rest of the parts of the body could do what they did best.

Each part of the body has its function. Each function is important. Without each part, the whole body would not be able to do its work well. As Paul tells us, that is the case with the Body of Christ as well. Each of us in the church has a gift, a function. They are all important, vital even. It doesn’t matter if that part is big and flashy, or small and behind the scenes. It takes all the parts to make the whole Body!

I give thanks for all of you and the work you do to make the whole body of Christ Crossman function. I give thanks that Christ Crossman is a part of the whole Body of Christ, serving in our place. I give thanks for Dulin, and Galloway, and Calloway and Mt Olivet and all the other parts of the Body of Christ for doing their work for the Body in their own place.

What is the work, the gift you are called to do in the Body?

Mindfulness

I’ve been thinking about mindfulness. This has been vital in how I have been able to get my weight more under control. I have to think about what I will be eating, not only as I eat but as I plan my day. When I get lax about it, then it becomes easier for me to pick up food on the run. That’s when I get into trouble. And over the Christmas to New Year’s time frame, there were all kinds of goodies sitting around that just kept calling to me. So it’s back to mindfulness.

It’s not just in relation to food that this is important for me. There are so many areas of my life that get out of control when I am not mindful about them. I tend to be an “out of sight, out of mind” kind of person. If something is out of my view for any length of time, it is very easy for me to forget about it. I “lose” things this way, only to be rediscovered later often when I no longer need them or have already replaced them. This happens to me even in my relationship with God. I get so busy that I “forget” to take time to strengthen the relationship so other things begin to take precedence in actual practice.

Well aware of this tendency, God through Moses asked the people to “recite [these words] to your children and talk about them when you are at home and when you are away, when you lie down and when you rise. Bind them as a sign on your hand, fix them as an emblem on your forehead, and write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.” [Deut. 6:7-9]

So to help us remember, every morning Maxwell and I read the Upper Room devotional at breakfast. What are some of the ways that you seek to be mindful about your relationship with God?

Deuteronomy 6:4-6

Hear, O Israel: The Lord is our God, the Lord alone. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might. Keep these words that I am commanding you today in your heart.

The Grass Withers

A friend of mine mused recently whether 2010 has just been a colossal waste of time. Several other friends immediately reminded him of what he has accomplished this year—the renovation of what was almost a decrepit house into a wonderful, sturdy beautiful home for his daughter and her family—and of the time he has had with his two young grandsons. He said he wasn’t thinking of it personally but in terms of civilization.

I think about this year and in some ways I know what he was talking about. We have witnessed quite a lot that is disturbing. The list would vary depending what side of the aisle one occupies politically, but there has been enough disturbing news to fill many lists. And on the personal side, I look at the pile of medical reports and insurance forms that indicates a bit of our journey this year. It can be almost enough to make me cry, “Do over!” or “Let’s get to 2011 fast!”

I would prefer to look back at a year and tally up all that has been wonderful—there has been joy, for sure: watching Aaliyah grow and seeing my sons mature not the least among them. As I look back, I do see the joy, I see the blossoms, but I also have become ever more aware of what Isaiah wrote, that the “constancy of people is like the flower of the field.” It withers; it fades. If I am to build my happiness, my contentment there, I will be surely disappointed. Isaiah goes on to say, “The grass withers, the flower fades; but the word of our God will stand forever.” This is a guiding principle. Here I can put my trust and hope. “On Christ the solid rock I stand; all other ground is sinking sand.”

Where do you put your trust and hope?

The Gifts of Christmas

When I was a little girl, I was always really excited about Christmas. On Christmas Eve, I would lay awake in bed listening closely to hear Santa’s sleigh bells. Living in south Texas, we didn’t have a fireplace, but I knew that Santa would come in to the house however he could. We left out milk and sugar cookies for him on the piano bench. In the morning, there would only be a bit of milk left in the glass and just crumbs on the plate, stockings full of fruit and candy along with a special gift from Santa for each of us.

When I was twelve, my grandparents were in a car accident on Christmas Day, while heading to our Christmas evening dinner. Granddaddy died. Ever after that, Christmas always had a bit of a sad touch to it as well. I tried to assuage that sadness by concentrating on the gifts—choosing just the perfect gifts for everyone, and anticipating the gifts I would receive. I found, however, that the feeling of emptiness grew.

As I have reflected on this over the years, I have realized that the gifts don’t really matter to me. I do enjoy seeing others open their gifts. I enjoy their delightedness when I open the ones they gave me. What I appreciate the most is being with those I love—family and close friends—and knowing that in an amazing gift of love God chose to come and live with us in order to bring us life.

So on Christmas morning this year, in the midst of the presents, I will give thanks for my family around me, for my family who lives in other states, for those who I will not see again until the Day of Resurrection, and for friends who fill my life with love. I pray that you may know joy from this gift of God whose love is so full that the Father and the Son and the Spirit all encompass us with ever-flowing grace and mercy.

When My Boat Rides Low

A mentor of mine had a really helpful image to me: I sit in a small boat in water that has mines under the surface. When my boat floats gently on the surface, it doesn’t bump into the mines and all is smooth, but sometimes for whatever reason my boat rides low in the water and tends to bump into the mines which rock my boat and increase the chance of bumping into more mines.

There are days I wake up and don’t know why I feel out of sorts, or maybe I at least vaguely know, but my ability to deal with stress and anxiety is reduced. I tend to be more snappish and pass on my anxiety to others, which increases the volatility in the relationship. Do you know that feeling?

So what do I do? What is my responsibility? I could say to others, “This is how I feel. I should be able to express my feelings. Just deal with it.” Or I could say to myself, “Oo, this is how I am feeling. I need to rein in my words and actions especially today so that I don’t add to the stress and anxiety going around.” And of course, that can be harder to do when my boat is riding low in the water.

Our society has encouraged us to “express ourselves,” not to hold back on giving voice to our emotions, but I don’t see that it has made us any better adjusted. I see anger, frustration and resentment increasing rather than the opposite. It is important to be aware of how we feel, but I don’t believe it is necessary to express all of those feelings aloud, or even silently with actions. I believe it is more important to decide what my guiding principle will be, and stick with it, even when it is difficult. I would say that a good guiding principle is what Jesus said is the second greatest commandment—the first being to love the Lord our God with all our heart, our soul, and our mind—is to love our neighbor as ourself. He didn’t say that this is easy; and it has little to do with feelings or emotions. It is a choice to make so that when my boat rides low and gets rocked by the mines, I have something else to lean on that is more steady and trustworthy than just my feelings and emotions.

What do you think?

The Desert Blooms

Can you imagine it? The desert—the wilderness. No life apparent as far as one can see. Don’t we know that wilderness at times? Haven’t we lived there—where everything is dry and barren? We look for life, for water, always walking to the edge of the next dune, only to find more dryness, more barrenness.

As I think of some of those times in my life, I know the smell of the dryness, the heat—or maybe, it’s that sense of eternal cold, when I will never feel warm again, the feeling that this is what will always be, that there is no way out.

I knew that feeling when I felt so completely alone my first semester in seminary. I knew that feeling during the years when our infertility seemed overwhelming. I have known that feeling during the years of dealing with a son’s rebellion. I know that feeling now in moments when hope seems to fail.

Where are or where have been places in your life that have been dry and barren, where there seems to be no way towards life?

 As you look at this picture, hold the images of those places in your life where hope seems to fail. As we sit or walk in the wilderness, we can hardly imagine anything else, where any hope can shine into the darkness.

And yet, we hear startling words of hope from Isaiah. The same prophet who has spent chapter after chapter telling of the devastation that is coming, painting images of barren wilderness, suddenly offers the people, and us, a new image—the dessert blooms--

a desert that rejoices with life. He tells us that the deaf will hear, the blind will see, the lame shall not just walk, but shall leap like a deer. The burning sand will become like a pool of refreshing water. The trackless wastes will be transformed into a highway, a holy way for God’s people.

We hear this not only from Isaiah, but also from Matthew. John the Baptist sits in prison, and hears of Jesus. He sends a question: are you he—the one for whom we wait, or do we have to keep waiting? Jesus sends this word back: "Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them.” Almost the very words of Isaiah. The desert shall be transformed. The dry barren wastes will blossom with hope and life.

And it is still happening today. As we move on through Advent, this season of preparation, we hear refrains of hope where there was none. Mary in anticipation sings:

“My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty. He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever.”

The barrenness of the desert gives way as God turns everything upside down. Springs gush forth in the wilderness. The lowly are lifted up. The blind see. The lame walk. The hopeless dare to hope. The highway of our God becomes our way where we had seen none.

Can you imagine it? The desert—the wilderness—blossoming with life as far as we can see. Do we have eyes to see? Do we have ears to hear of the deeds of our God? Do we have hearts to expect it? Do we have lips to speak the good news?

Wait for it, James says. Be patient and wait so that we can see that the coming of the Lord is near. See… Do you see how God comes even into the desert? Do you see how the waters of our God flow in the wilderness? Look. Listen. 

Isaiah 35:1-10

Matthew 11:2-11

A Guiding Principle

  I have tended for years to act almost as a human pretzel, bending myself constantly in order to accommodate others. Now in terms of hospitality, and making room for the stranger, flexibility is a good thing, but I have learned that in other situations, especially chronic ones, it leads to anger.

  While saying "no" when in all actuality a "yes" is not impossible may feel bad, a little too self-centered, I have been developing a guiding principle along the lines of this: “your lack of planning does not become "my" emergency.”

  For years, I have stepped in to prevent failure by my boys, and others. I have discovered that this is not helpful, and in fact over time is actually harmful--to them, and to me. So this morning when my younger son was working to finish up a project for class today, I helped by making his lunch (his job), but when he realized that some things were not going to be finished in time, he said, "unless you could take me to school." And I said, "no." This is not an unwieldy project that cannot be carried on the bus. This was not something that he did not know about until the last minute. He has known and he has been working on it, but not as diligently as needed. So we rolled up the poster board and secured it with rubber bands for the bus trip. My guess is that he has done enough work to turn it in, and maybe will have the opportunity to fine-tune it during the day even. I will gladly take him to school when a project is larger than can be carried on the bus, especially with prior planning. Could I have taken him? Yes, it was not impossible, but this way he is learning that he needs to get his own work done in the proper time and not rely on others to carry him through.

  Yesterday morning, I gave my older son a ride to the Metro to get to his job. As we pulled up, he said, "oh, there goes my train." Unsaid, but still conveyed was a question about me taking him all the way to work. My answer was, "oh, too bad." In reality another train comes in 10 minutes. Could I have taken him to work? Well, it wasn't impossible though it was highly inconvenient, but if I continue to step into the gap, he is not going to learn to be responsible and accountable for his own actions.

  Believe it or not, this has been difficult work for me. It's not about only doing things when they are convenient for me, or don't cause me stress. It's about helping my boys and myself take responsibility for our own actions.

  What guiding principles help you when faced with difficult situations?

Irritations

Have you ever found yourself wondering why other people get so steamed so easily that they honk at the car in front of them right at the moment the light turns green? The other day Jen and I went to lunch to talk about planning for church. On the way, a driver (of a Honda Civic, I’m mortified to say) honked at everyone almost all the way. A van turned into the street to make a u-turn, another mini-van followed so closely that the u-turn could not be easily accomplished. Our lane was effectively blocked, and the Civic driver kept honking—as if that would really help the matter. As soon as the lane cleared, the driver zigged and zagged around cars—and actually made it to the light at Seven Corners just ahead of us, which made me smile in self-righteous piety.

It’s easy for me to scoff at the absurd behavior, until I get to see it in myself. Andrew drove my car last night for an errand. This morning, I opened the door to find my seat moved all the way back, and leaning as far possible. At first, I found it irritating because I would have to reset everything to be right for me, but then I heard a car horn honking at another driver at the light, I suddenly saw how even this small irritation is a part of the same continuum as those drivers. I remembered the childhood lesson that anytime I point my finger at someone, there are three other fingers pointing back at me.

Oh, to pause, take a deep breath, and let it out releasing the silly irritations that get to me so that I can find the joy that God finds in those who irritate me. And in this joy may I find expectant waiting this Advent season.

Romans 12:3

For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of yourself more highly than you ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned.

A surprise visitor for T-day

Just after we finished eating, and I was cleaning up in the kitchen, Andrew went outside and came back in with Aaliyah! What a pleasant surprise. She was here for about 2 and 1/2 hours, then her mommy picked her up. Not walking yet, but cruising well. She ate some cherry crisp with vanilla ice cream, a bit of turkey, and then applesauce.

Thanksgiving

On this Thanksgiving day, I am mindful of how much I have to be thankful for, so many blessings and gifts: my family, my vocation in ministry, my baptism, my health, this congregation, working with the wonderful faithful leadership at Christ Crossman, and on.

I’m sure you can come up with a list of things for which to be thankful today as well.

When Paul wrote to the Thessalonians, he told them to “give thanks in all circumstances.” There’s a big difference in being thankful for things, and giving thanks in all circumstances. I am not thankful for Jeff’s cancer. I am not thankful for war. I am not thankful for griefs. I am not thankful for these things, but I am learning to give thanks in the midst of these things. It’s not even that I am thankful in spite of these things. I am learning that God is with me always, and that I can be with God always. When I open my heart, my soul, to the ever-flowing grace of God in Jesus Christ, there is so much more room within me to experience true gratitude—to receive with true humility.

This day, as we give thanks for all the blessings we know, I pray that we will also be able to give thanks in all the circumstances of our lives, so that we will know more fully the joy of being in a living, loving relationship with the One who has made us, who redeems, and who calls us into the future.

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.

What Prayer Does

Sometimes we have a tendency to treat prayer as an almost magical incantation that will bring about our heart’s desire, or keep something bad from happening. When I listened at The Nexus to a conversation between Two Really Smart Guys, an atheist who’s a mathematician and a Christian who’s a physicist, I was struck by what was a primary goal of the atheist: to avoid suffering. Granted, he didn’t want just to avoid suffering for himself; he also wanted to eliminate suffering for others. He talked about how prayer doesn’t work because it doesn’t result in what one asks for.

To me, that is completely the wrong way of looking at prayer. Prayer is not about giving us our desires or wishes or even filling our needs. It’s about being in living relationship with God. When I spend time in prayer, I am drawn into a deeper relationship. My focus changes from being about my needs and desires to wanting what God wants.

Throughout Jeff’s treatment, my prayer has been for the best that is possible in God’s eyes. I do not know what healing or curing would be best, so I leave it in God’s hands.

As of the latest CT scan, there is no visible evidence of anything growing. This is good. He is recovering from the debilitating effects of the chemotherapy. He plans to be back to teaching around Thanksgiving. This is all good and I give thanks. I also continue to pray that when (as we have been told it will) the CA re-emerges, we will be strengthened for the journey by all of God’s loving grace.

We Honor Those Who Have Served

Mickey Morris enlisted in the Navy during his senior year of high school. He was only seventeen years old but he wanted to serve his nation. Before he finished basic training World War II ended. He was stationed first on Kodiak Island in Alaska. Actually, the Navy somehow lost track of him, so he wasn’t receiving his pay. While he was able to eat in the mess and had his uniforms to wear, he did not have money for anything else. The Navy had to contact his mother in Alabama to find out where he was. Fortunately, they found him and brought his pay up to date.

Then he was stationed on Okinawa. While the war was officially over, there were still Japanese soldiers who had not yet heard the news and continued to fight. Mickey was honorably discharged from the Navy on the day before his 21^st birthday.

I give thanks for those like Mickey, my father, who have been willing to place their lives on the line for the sake of others. 

Today we remember all who have served in the various branches of the military throughout our nation’s history. We remember those who have been willing to place their lives in danger to help bring about peace. May we honor their service by living our lives with justice and mercy for all. Blessed are the peacemakers for they will be called children of God. [Mt 6:9]

Prayers for a young friend and his family

A young adult friend and his family are hurting badly. He had come home from college because of a severe depression. Earlier this week, he tried to hurt himself. He is now in in-patient treatment. Please remember him, his parents and siblings in your prayers.

Milestones

This week we have celebrated a couple of milestones. On Monday, Maxwell turned 14. That day, fourteen years ago, was filled with joy and with fear. After about seventeen hours of hard labor, he was born but he wasn’t breathing. The cord was wrapped around his neck 3 times. The neonatologist and NICU nurse were in the room with us waiting. I remember that I prayed, and cried without tears. His first minute Apgar was a 2. They worked quickly. The labor nurse was the only one who spoke, saying, “He has such long eyelashes.” His 5 minute Apgar was a 9. When he began crying, that’s when the tears came, along with the first verse of “Amazing Grace.”

Also on Monday, Andrew bought a used car. Watching him receive the keys from the seller was such a joy. He drove all of us to Maxwell’s birthday dinner. I am amazed at how much he has grown up lately. He’s working full-time, making sure he gets up and out when he needs to. He’s a good dad for his daughter. Sure, he will still ask for help sometimes, thank goodness. I don’t want to feel totally outgrown!

The song, “Sunrise, Sunset,” from Fiddler on the Roof, has been playing in my head this week. One moment, they are babies; the next, it seems, they are driving away on their own. Like Mary, Jesus’ mother, I treasure the memories in my heart, and give thanks as I watch my boys grow in wisdom along with their years.

I can only imagine that God looks at each one of us, treasuring the moments of wisdom and growth. While I don’t want to anthropomorphize God into merely a super human being, I do believe that for God relationship is very important. The whole purpose of Creation, in my way of thinking, is for there to be “more” relationship. God has so much love, is so much love that the impetus is for more creation to receive that love.

Listen

I confess that it is so easy for me to get worked up. Over the years I have found that my tongue can move far more quickly to speech than it should. Do you know what I mean? Do you ever find yourself saying something that you regretted almost as soon as it was out of your mouth -- words that hurt; words that bind; words that do not build another up or offer encouragement?

Great advice over the years has been that slow count – 1, 2, 3, 4 …9, 10. It is helpful but sometimes it’s not enough. Quick words without enough thought can lead to more quick words, which can lead to increasing irritation and anger.

James’ advice is to be quick, yes, but quick to listen. Taking time to listen can teach us a great deal. Listening--without getting our next speech ready. Listening—to hear what lies behind or underneath the words. Listening—to the depths of another’s heart. Listening—to how God’s Spirit is moving in and through us to be a witness of grace.

Be quick to listen, and then slow to speak. When I am impassioned, or angered, my words can come out like barbs. When I take time to listen, and then ponder what I hear before my words take shape, there is more space to allow God to dwell in the silence and in the words.

Oh, to be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slower yet to anger. It is seldom that anger is truly righteous anger. When I feel the anger begin to rise, or rush to burst forth, the best thing I can do is to say out loud, “I need to go think,” “I need to cool down,” “I’ll be back and then we can talk.” Physiologically, when anxiety and anger begin to take over, our higher functions of reasoning begin to be overpowered by our more primitive instincts. Taking time to cool down allows the adrenaline levels to lower, which helps us think more clearly, and which allows us to hear God’s Spirit at work within us.

Questions

My father gave me a great gift.  Daddy always said that questions are important. “If you don’t ask,” he would say, “you have only one answer.” At other times he would say, “If I stop asking questions, I’ll stop growing, and I’ll be dead.” In many ways, my father had a very simple faith and yet he never discouraged me in asking questions. Driving home from church as a kid, I would start talking about something in the sermon or from our Sunday School lesson and ask questions.

Becky’s professor of systematic theology, Dr. Beverly Mitchell, is my partner in facilitating one of the groups of seminary interns. She says, “I serve a God who can handle the questions.” I figure if I am asking questions and honestly seeking answers then I am staying in relationship. I think God honors that. I don’t have to have all the answers sewn up into a neat package. I don’t have to understand it all. Sometimes I feel like I need certitude, especially when things are shifting around me, but some of the greatest growth comes for me when someone asks a question that shakes me, that makes me stop and think. It helps me think about what is most important.

What is most important is that I give thanks for the questions. I especially give thanks that our God is big enough, vast enough, to provide mystery and allow our imaginations to play. This God who in some awesome way is Three-in-One enters into the dialogue and helps to open me up to keep growing in loving relationship with God and others.

Worries

“What? Me worry?” Mad Magazine’s Alfred E. Neuman would say. Bobby McFerrin sang, “Don’t worry, be happy.” Pumba & Timon sang, “Hakuna matata,” in The Lion King.“ That’s Swahili for “no worries for the rest of life.”

Oh, that might be nice if I could just turn off the worry machine, but I’m afraid that just doesn’t work. I have concerns. I have a lot of details that need looking after. So I have worries. Normal household worries. Normal parent worries. Normal job worries. Add to those now, worries about health, about chemo outcomes. Will or when will this metastasized cancer pop up again in Jeff?

When Jesus told his disciples not to worry, I don’t think he meant a kind of amnesiac version of not worrying. He ended the whole thing by saying, “strive first for the kingdom of God and God’s righteousness…” God knows that we have concerns over the details of our lives. These concerns are not unimportant, but the question becomes--do these concerns take over our lives so that we have no attention left for what is most important?

It can be especially hard when I wake in the middle of the night with my brain whirring 1000 mph, when the worries and details seem overwhelming. That’s when I can “turn my eyes upon Jesus.” If I can keep my eyes turned to Jesus, then all else will find a way into balance, the worries and details need not overwhelm me. They can assume their appropriate place of being a part of living a life of God-graced purpose.

And so, instead of saying, "What? Me worry?" I pray, "Lord Jesus Christ, son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner." Instead of singing, "Don't worry, be happy," I sing, "The Lord is my light, my light and salvation. In God I trust, in God I trust." Instead of humming, "Hakuna matata," I mouth the words, "Turn your eyes upon Jesus. Look full in his wonderful face..."

Happy would-have-been-83rd birthday, Daddy!

 Thanks be to God for my father who was born 83 years ago today. He died in 1992 at the age of 64. We miss him very much.

This was Mickey Morris when he was a young sailor.This was a double exposure taken when he was stationed on Kodiak Island.

Here he was a young lad.

My daddy with me at my cousin Joan's wedding in August, 1974.