How Superwoman Flies

As a kid I really liked hearing, “it’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s Superman!” And everyone would be pointing upward to see him fly over. Just the other day, I wrote to a friend, “I've always known that I'm not a superwoman, but there's something in me that makes me keep trying to act like one. I can’t fly without assistance.”

I think I have discovered how superwoman flies. We look up as she flies overhead seemingly without effort, but what we don’t see are all the hands that are raised up helping to hold her up—you know, like in those trust exercises, being passed along overhead on the upraised hands of the group.

Finally last week, two friends in particular with their questions helped me come face to face with this truth—I cannot fly alone. And thus with trepidation I have opened the way to see all those hands that have been there all along.

Forgive me if I’ve been slow. And know that I am so grateful, more than I can ever really express.

I wrote these words last week before Jeff entered the Halquist Center. Ever since then, as Jeff grew steadily weaker and now that he has died, I am learning ever more deeply their truth. I have been overwhelmed with how many there are whose hands are holding me up—some from places and people I knew would be there, but some from entirely unexpected sources.

If ever you see me acting as if I can fly alone, remind me (gently) of the hands that hold me, acting as God’s own hands.

Galatians 6:2-3

Bear one another’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ. For if those who are nothing think they are something, they deceive themselves.

Too Blunt Perhaps

I am coming to realize that I am a bit too blunt right now. You see, I deal day in and day out, every hour of every day, with a certain reality. I am up close and personal in living with someone going through his last days on earth.

As a pastor for over 30 years, I have walked this path with many others, but now it is a different journey. Perhaps my familiarity with the journey as a pastor has made a difference as to how I walk it in my own life, but it is not the same.

Part of the bluntness comes perhaps from ever-present awareness. There’s a sense that since it’s the number one thing on my mind, “isn’t it number one on yours as well”? or, “how can you NOT be aware of it?” And thus, I say it without using any sugar-coating or euphemisms: my husband is going to die. That is the blunt truth. In reality, it is the truth of all our lives, for not one of us is immortal. We WILL have “an illness unto death,” whether that be a momentary illness caused by an accident or one that lasts for years. It’s just that now we cannot avoid the knowledge. It stares at us; it stares at me all the time. It dares me to avoid it. It creeps around corners to surprise me just when I take a moment to dream of something else. It wags its finger in front of my eyes, just to say “here I am, this truth you cannot ignore.”

And so, I tend to be too blunt. If I have made you uncomfortable, I apologize. I inadvertently brought tears to a dear friend on Sunday forgetting that she is not living with the reality every day.

Even in my bluntness, there is one thing I would like to convey: there is hope, not despair. There is sadness and grief, but not despair, for I am not alone. I walk through a shadowed valley, but not alone for my God is with me.

Psalm 23:4

Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff—they comfort me.

What Shapes My Life

Years ago when I was in college, I heard someone giving a talk on relationships say something like, “If you feel you cannot live without this person, then that is not a healthy relationship.” I have discovered over the years, that this is really true.

This was brought to mind this morning as I went to get my second cuppa at a little past 6. Jeff is not yet awake. He has always been an early riser. And as happens so often these days, I wonder briefly about the changes happening now, and what will happen; about how much of my life—our lives—have been shaped by Jeff’s patterns. For better or worse, our lives are changing; the patterns are constantly shifting these days. Jeff, over the years, as a judging type on the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator with a great need for routine, has given the rest of us a gift. The other three of us have a greater tendency towards spontaneity, which can often mean that structure is lacking. He has helped insure that we go to bed early enough in order to meet the day well rested and prepared.

As my mind flits briefly to that place in the future, I feel grief and a bit of fear of what will be, and what will not be. For nearly 33 years, my life has been shaped by this man, as his has been shaped by me. What will the shape of my life be like in the days, years to come?

What about another shaping influence in my life—an even more important one? Have I allowed the Triune God to shape my life as much?  When this earthly partner’s shape is no longer at my side, will I find that I am still shaped by this much more lasting companion or have I allowed the other to hold greater sway in my life?

And so my mind goes to the truth of that talk so long ago. I know that while I will deeply miss my partner in life, I have another that will comfort me, counsel me, guide me and shape me.

Romans 12:2

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect.

Words and Images Fall Short

I have started reading two books, about different topics, but they raise a similar refrain as they begin. The first is Entertaining the Triune Mystery: God, Science, and the Space Between by Jeffrey C Pugh. The second is Why? By Adam Hamilton. The first is obviously going to be an exploration of science and faith. The second looks at those age-old questions about God and suffering, pain and evil.

The refrain that I “hear” in these books is that too often we fall into the trap of trying to limit God to the words and images that we use to describe God. Pugh says that “the images of God we have been struggling with for millennia can be images that can never capture the totality of the One who stands at the boundaries of thought (p. 6).” Hamilton says, “Our disappointment with God in the face of suffering or tragedy or injustice typically stems from our assumptions about how God is supposed to work in our world. When God does not meet our expectations, we are disappointed, disillusioned, and confused (location 75 on Kindle version).”

The sense that I got from both is how God is immensely beyond my scope of understanding. All I can grasp is a mere drop in the bucket, and what I can describe is even less than that drop. In this I can best sing with the writer of Psalm 8: “When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars that you have established; what are human beings that you are mindful of them, mortals that you care for them?” The vastness of all creation that began everywhere at once (as I learned from astronomer Jennifer Wiseman) dwarfs not just me, but all humanity. And yet…and yet…as vastly beyond creation as God is, one drop I have grasped is that God is not only aware of me, but also cares deeply about me.

In this time of journeying with Jeff through the end of life, I am grateful for this drop of knowledge. I am even more grateful that God is far beyond all I can possibly imagine or dream, let alone describe. And thus I stand in awe.

Pity Party

I was feeling a tad sorry for myself this evening. Jeff needed some inpatient pain therapy so I took him over around 2:30 p.m. and in the process forgot an appointment that I had with my coach. The repairman for the gas dryer was supposed to come between 1 & 5, so Becky came to work on her computer at our house to let him in. I noticed that the AC wasn’t cooling well. The air handler was blowing but the condenser fan wasn’t working so I put in a call for a repairman. I got home from taking Jeff around 4:30. The dryer repairman still hadn’t come, nor had the HVAC people. I was hot, tired and feeling cranky.

Shortly after 5, the dryer guy called to find our address. The scheduler had entered our address wrong and his GPS had him in Alexandria off of Seminary Road. Then he had to negotiate traffic heading west. Charles normally gets off at 3:30, but continued working until after 6 to take care of the customers, including me.

At 8:16 the HVAC guy called and said he was on his way. He arrived at 8:30, finishing up a little after 9. Two hours earlier his dad called to say he was taking him mom to the hospital, but he didn’t know why. Cole continued with what he needed to do which meant being at my house instead of the hospital with his mom.

Sometimes, often-times, when I have a pity party, I forget about what others are going through. Tonight, thank you God, that some reminders were afforded me with the awareness that I am not the only one facing difficulties. In my rush to say “Woe is me!” may I not forget that someone else needs a hand at least as much as I do.

Romans 12:15

Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.

For Falls Church City Memorial Day Service

My friend Scott Howson's photo of the National Cemetery in Fredericksburg, VA.

Today I offer the Invocation and Blessing at the Falls Church City Memorial Day Service.


INVOCATION

Holy and Living God, known by many names:

Send forth the breath of your Spirit upon us this day when we remember all those who have given their lives in the service of their nation, defending others from tyranny and terrorism, enabling us to live, move and worship freely.

Hear our prayers as we honor their memory.

Receive our thanks for your powerful gifts of life.

Empower us not only to keep peace, but to make peace in this world that knows so much strife.

In your name, O Creating God, we pray this day and always. Amen.

BLESSING FOR DEPARTED VETERANS

Bless, O Lord, all those who have served in the armed forces of our nation, who have given selflessly of their years in order to protect and defend.

Bless especially those who have died in this service.  May we honor their memories and their sacrifice by living lives of worth and value.

Bless also those who returned to serve at home in other ways, and have since died. May we give thanks for their gifts.

Bless those whose memories of war have haunted them and their loved ones. May they find peace and healing in your presence.

Bless those who serve this day far from home and loved ones. May they know of our honor for them.

Bless us as we honor those who gave their utmost for our nation. May our lives be worthy of their sacrifice.

In your blessed and blessing Name, we pray, O Lord of all. Amen.

Guiding Principles

I have mentioned guiding principles before. It can be tough to actually say what one’s guiding principles are. Often we simply adopt what we have been taught or what we have experienced, but until they go through the crucible of our own reasoning and experience they will be like hand-me-down clothes that may or may not fit us well. This past week, I encountered some things that struck me as guiding principles, if not of the person who sent or posted them, then of the person who wrote them.

Judy Brown sent me these three aspects of humility from Dallas Willard:

1.     Never pretend we are or are not somebody other than who we are

2.    Never presume that we deserve anything or that anybody else deserves anything

3.    Never push to make things happen. Act and let go of the results.

A friend of mine posted this on Facebook: “Tip from leadership class: When presented with a problem/issue Accept it, change it or move on.”

These two reminded me of The Serenity Prayer penned by Reinhold Neibuhr in the 1930s: “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.”

In a way, all of these represent guiding principles that can help keep a person centered and grounded.

Here are some stabs at my guiding principles:

·      Don’t call people names.

·      Every person deserves to be treated with respect, even if I don’t like them.

·      God desires what is best for each person, and I certainly don’t know what that best is.

·      Take time to think it through. Don’t react on the spot.

·      Regardless of status in the eyes of the world, each person is equally created in the image of God, which means not holding them higher or lower in regard than myself.

·      Your lack of planning does not become my emergency.

·      I choose to love.

Matthew 6:33

But strive first for the kingdom of God and God’s righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.

Staying Calm in the Midst of Drama

There are people who get caught up in “drama,” and there are people who seem to be calm no matter what the circumstance. When I was growing up in the far west end of Richmond, our across the street neighbor—Skeebo--was known for his calm demeanor. Once when the neighbors were gathered at their house for a cookout, and it began to rain, they attempted to grill the steaks in the utility room in the basement. Needless to say, the fire did not stay well contained. All Skeebo said was “Marion, it’s on fire,” just as though he was saying, “Marion, we’re out of ice,” and then he poured his drink on the fire.

Well, I’m not sure I could have stayed so calm in the face of fire in my utility room, and I can count more than plenty of times when I have lost my cool, but I am doing better. In my Extraordinary Leadership Seminar based on Bowen Family Systems, I have been learning about managing my own anxiety so that I don’t add fuel to the fire, as it were. An added benefit is that in addition to staying calmer myself, I can help calm the anxiety or agitation in the situation.

If I am going to stay calm, then I need to be centered and have some guiding principles. These keep my life focused more on responding rather than reacting. It can be really hard to stay calm in the face of someone’s panic or rant. There is a natural tendency to want to rant back or go along with the panicking, but in the long run that does not help, so I try to draw a deep breath and consider what will be most helpful. Sometimes asking a question helps; sometimes simply being there calms the water; and sometimes stepping outside and away is needed. All in all, I think our world could stand more reasoned response over gut reacting.

Luke 8:24

They went to him and woke him up, shouting, “Master, Master, we are perishing!” And he woke up and rebuked the wind and the raging waves; they ceased, and there was a calm.

Don't Forget to Breathe

“Don’t forget to breathe,” my dentist Dr. Rachel Valltos said to me as she was injecting novocaine preparatory to replacing two fillings in a tooth. “It’s a natural reaction to hold your breath, but it tenses your muscles and can make it hurt even more.” Then she talked about how some of her patients use breathing techniques in place of receiving novocaine to block the pain.

Some days I do feel like I’m holding my breath, tensing up, waiting… waiting for what? for something to happen, usually something somewhat dire.

When Jesus appeared to the disciples inside that locked upper room, they were in a sense holding their breath. Their leader had been crucified by the authorities, and they might be next. The door was locked to keep others out, but Jesus ignored the locked door. And he breathed on them: his breath—the breath of Spirit—the breath that brooded over the void in the beginning of creation—his breath that breathed new life into those defeated and fearful disciples.

I know some of the things against which I hold my breath in anticipation. How much better a way it is to meet them and face them filled with life-giving oxygen, with life-giving Spirit. In your life there may be things that cause you to hold your breath. Jesus says to you, “Receive the Holy Spirit,” as he breathes on you his life-giving breath.

Don’t forget to breathe—breathe in peace—breathe in Spirit—breathe in power.

John 20:21-22

Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit.

The Horns of a Dilemma

Ooooh, this has been one of those weeks where the feelings and the reasonings can be at loggerheads. I awoke on Monday morning to the news that Osama bin Laden had been shot and killed, and buried at sea. All in the flash of a moment, I felt relief that the search was over, anxiety that vengeful reprisals would begin anew and understanding why the burial at sea had taken place so quickly.

I scanned the early morning photos of spontaneous celebrations in front of the White House and at Ground Zero. I was amazed at, but then not surprised by the youth of those who gathered. Surely many of them were only in elementary school for 9/11. That means that the bulk of their lives has been lived under the cloud of terrorism and war. After this catharsis, maybe some will dedicate their lives to living justly even in the face of terror.

I heard snatches of TV news programs as Jeff watched—some commentators were irate that US taxpayers’ dollars went to Pakistan whose government “surely knew” were bin Laden was holed up. And as usual, the greatest bulk of airtime was given over to our “peeping-Tom” voyeurism of seeing how 9/11 victims’ families were reacting. I was thankful when he turned the TV off.

On Facebook, I have read a whole gamut of reactions—from elation to dismay, along with many prayers for peace. Some called this a “murder;” others called it a “fair dog-fight.” Some called it justice; others a continuation of killing that leads to more killing. One friend quoted Jimi Hendrix: ‎"When the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world will know peace." Another quoted Ezekiel 33:11.

All I can say “thank God” that real, final justice is left in God’s hands. I certainly wouldn’t know how to “vote” on this one. All I know is that the only possible changes I can make are in myself, so how do I live to make God’s reign of justice and mercy evident? And how do I live in the face of those who hate me so that they can still see God’s love for them reflected in my life? These are not soft “bleeding-heart,” “hippie” questions but very tough decisions on how to live.

Ezekiel 33:11

Say to them, As I live, says the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from their ways and live; turn back, turn back from your evil ways; for why will you die, O house of Israel?

The Push and Pull of Compassion

Do you remember the pushmi-pullyu, the gazelle-unicorn or the two-headed llama in Dr Dolittle? I realized today I have a push/pull reaction to compassion these days. I went to an Arlington District Clergy meeting yesterday morning. I encountered colleagues there who were very caring, wanting to know how Jeff is doing, and how I am doing. After a far too brief word, all I wanted to do was sidle away from them. I sat on a row by myself when normally I would have sat with friends.

The push/pull is that I deeply appreciate the genuine caring and yet the intensity is sometimes too great for me. The push/pull is also that I need to let folks know about what’s going on and yet I want to withdraw.

I give thanks for friends and colleagues who care, who rejoice when I rejoice, who weep when I weep. I also give thanks for and ask for understanding for when I might seem brusque and unappreciative of compassion offered. I am not unappreciative. It’s just that at any particular moment I might need folks to just sit and let me sit. And I pray that I can offer that same gift to others when even a gentle hug, nudge or question might simply be too much.

Romans 12:15

Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.

One Thing

Last week in visiting Lillian who is recovering well from a stroke, she told me that her physical therapist, in releasing her from PT, told her to keep her mind on one thing at a time, and she should be able to accomplish each task. Then Lillian said with that hint of a dry smile she has that it’s hard to think about only one thing at a time.

I usually pride myself on my ability to multi-task. I get lots of things done that way. Lately, however, I been questioning this “ability.” How well do I really get things done? I have been much more mindful when I drive to focus on the task at hand. [See PR & news reports do make a difference.] And don’t I want someone to focus on me when with me rather than attending to other things—like talking on a cell phone?

Which makes me think of my need to focus on the one thing that is most needful—the love of Christ. With single-minded focus and obedience, he emptied himself and went to the cross—all for love, that we might be set free. So today, on this most Holy Thursday, whether at home, at work, or in worship (at 7:30 p.m.), the love of Christ is our focus. When we keep our mind on this one thing, then all things will be accomplished well.

Matthew 6:33

But strive first for the kingdom of God and God’s righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.

Grudge into gratitude

These days I would rather not let the frustrations bother me. I would rather be able to do each task with a true smile on my lips, and gratitude in my heart for being able to serve even in a small way, but I often find a grudge there instead.

I give thanks for companions along the way who are a witness to me in dealing with those pesky frustrations—some small, some quite large. Jen has been such an inspiration to me these last several years. She takes what she reads and hears and reflects on, and it becomes a part of her life.

This past week as she had to deal with one thing after another, so many that they became not just a molehill or a series of molehills, but nearly a mountain, in the midst of it all she sang “I sing because I’m happy, I sing because I’m free…” Granted at moments that song may have been more like a prayer of desperation, but the singing of it was also a hymn of praise, and a declaration of trust in God.

And so, with that witness before me, I will seek to turn my frustrations into an opportunity to sing praise, and grudges into gratitude.

Buy Less?

How often do I make something more complicated by trying to parse the details? For years I have been trying to improve our family’s “green-ness.” Three years ago, we bought a Civic hybrid. I would love to have solar panels on our house, especially since it faces the south. We got rid of the grass in front of the house to reduce the necessity of mowing.

This morning, I glanced at an article in the Post titled “Go green without spending green,” an interview with Jeffrey Hollender, founder of Seventh Generation cleaning products. The single most important thing in going green, he says, is to buy less stuff. That elicits a hand slap to the forehead: DUH!

Thinking “green” when we need to buy new things, make replacements, etc., is important, but buying more to add to the already massive collections in our homes and waste sites is not helpful in the end.

That way of thinking also applies to other areas of my life. What actions can go a long way without requiring massive planning and adding in lots of additional responsibilities? During Lent, we often give up something as a discipline but end up adding other things to take its place. Maybe the kind of fast that is needed is really learning to do with less—less things, less activities, less scheduling, less rushing. Anyway, this is giving me something to think about during these days when what I need to learn is how to let go—let go of worry, fear, anxiety.

"Pinch a bit of skin"

When we are kids, most of us are told that we shouldn’t point at others. It’s not polite. We may even have learned that whenever we point our finger at someone, there are three pointing right back at us.

Quite often what we don’t like in someone else is something we actually don’t like in ourselves; it’s just that we seldom realize it. Only today I listened as one person described another as not being able to see from any perspective but their own. As I heard this, I thought that the description actually fit the speaker quite well too. Then, as I smiled in a bit of smug superiority, I thought it can describe me at times.  Oooh. Caught.

I have a physiological analogy for this in my life. Several years ago, I kept smelling something that seemed a bit off. I thought it was the smell of stale smoke wherever I went, but then I discovered what it really was. It was a symptom of dehydration. I was dehydrated. So now, when I start to wrinkle my nose in distaste at a smell, I actually pinch of bit of my skin together to see if I getting dehydrated again.

In other aspects of life, I also need to “pinch a bit of my skin.” Before I jump to judgment on someone else, I need to examine myself and find where I err or fall short.

Matthew 7:3-4

Why do you see the speck in your neighbor’s eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye? Or how can you say to your neighbor, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ while the log is in your own eye?

The Heartbeat of God

During the days immediately after 9/11/01, one song kept resonating through my mind. It was a Taizé song that repeats: “The Lord is my light, my light and salvation. In God I trust. In God I trust.” Singing that over and over calmed my spirit in those days of such fear.

When I am suffused with joy, the words and tune of “Bless the Lord, my soul, and bless God’s holy name. Bless the Lord, my soul, who leads me into life” (Jacques Berthier), well up within me.

When I was in college, the young man I dated for several years seemed uncomfortable when I would break into a snatch of song. He would say, “Life is not a musical.” That’s when I realized that my life is indeed a musical. Music expresses what I feel, what I think; music teaches me; music calms me; music excites me. I learn best when words go to music.

Later when I read The Magician’s Nephew, originally the 5^th book in The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis, I found an important image. Aslan the great Lion, Son of the Emperor over the sea, sings all of Narnia into creation. In music, I find my deepest connection with my Lord. It is as though in music I am connected with the heartbeat of the One who set all of Creation into motion, who infuses it with saving grace, who calls to it from the telos, the “end” or goal, as it were.

And so, I invite you to sing a hymn of promise of that telos with me:

In our end is our beginning, in our time, infinity;

in our doubt there is believing; in our life, eternity.

In our death, a resurrection; at the last, a victory,

unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see. (Natalie Sleeth)

Colossians 3:16

Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; teach and admonish one another in all wisdom; and with gratitude in your hearts sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God.

Centering Prayer

This past Sunday evening we had the first of our Lenten Centering Prayer Series. Someone said it was like doing yoga. I was reminded of my first real experiences with centering prayer in the summer of 1980. Jeff and I were freshly graduated from seminary serving our first congregations. Our new friend Jim introduced us to a monthly ecumenical study group that met at Holy Cross Abbey in Berryville.

We would begin at 2 p.m. with the monks’ regular afternoon prayer in the Chapel, and then move into the chapter room or library. Father Edward and Father Andrew would welcome us, and invite us into twenty minutes of centering prayer. Wow! Was that hard at first!  Think of it: twenty minutes of intentional silence, not speaking, not even silently; twenty minutes of silence shortly after lunch, in the summer, in a non-air-conditioned room with the windows open.

We each had our own word, usually a name for God, to help keep us centered on God. When we found our thoughts wandering, that word repeatedly silently, with our breathing would bring us back to the center of listening to God. After our time of centering prayer, we would then vigorously discuss the book we were reading for that year.

The monks of Holy Cross Abbey gave me a real gift by teaching me that prayer comes in many shapes—some very structured like the prayers of their ordered services; some free flowing as in spontaneous prayer; some silent and nourishing. All of it is a way of speaking with and, more importantly, listening to God. The more time I spend with my Maker, the more I will look and sound like my Maker.

Smudged Crosses

On Wednesday, as I traversed the halls of the massive Johns Hopkins hospital I kept seeing people with black crosses smudged on their foreheads. I wondered what others in the crowd thought as they saw them.

I thought about many things: first--that we are made from the dust and to dust we shall return. We are mortal. None of us will get out of this life alive. No matter how much we love it, no matter how much we cling, we will die. That might sound like a morbid thought, but I don’t think so. The reality is that we are mortal. Knowing that our life here on earth is not limitless makes it that much more precious.

Second—I thought about how thankful I am for the congregation with whom I serve in ministry—for all the times we have worshiped our Lord together. I am so thankful that this is a community of faith that is so faithful and loving. I am so thankful for Becky and others to willingly take up the mantle when I am not able to be present. I thought about the Young @ Heart folks with their smudged crosses at noon.

Third—as I was exiting the elevator in the lobby of the Weinberg Center, I saw the nurse practitioner from Jeff’s surgeon’s practice. We had seen her earlier in the day, but now on her forehead, she bore that black cross-shaped smudge, and I was glad for that quiet witness.

Fourth—as I sat in the congregation Wednesday night and heard the scriptures of Ash Wednesday read, I thought about how difficult it can be for us to go out into the world bearing our smudged crosses, proclaiming not only our mortality, and our repentance, but also our allegiance to the One who made us and redeems us.

I give thanks for you and for your prayers. Jeff is recovering from surgery. They were not able to remove the cancer, though they removed part of the colon, leaving him with an ileostomy. Chemo will follow. Jeff is in fairly good spirits. He is thankful for the gift of life, but even more for the gift of God’s redeeming love in Christ.

Joel 2:12-13

Yet even now, says the Lord, return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning; rend your hearts and not your clothing. Return to the Lord, your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love, and relents from punishing.

Sighs Too Deep for Words

Last year, in a seminar I attended, I shared about Jeff’s then upcoming liver surgery, and said I didn’t know how to pray about it. One woman heard that as if I said I didn’t know how to pray, or that I was so emotional I couldn’t pray. She proceeded to instruct me in how to pray and how to let others pray for me. I appreciated the thought but what I meant was that in my limited perspective I truly did not know what to pray for. I cannot see all possibilities. I do not know truly what is best so that is when I especially rely on the Spirit. When my words fail, I simply pray for the best that is possible in God’s view and then let the Spirit intercede for me.

I am in that place once again. Jeff will have surgery once again, this time on his colon. My spirit is heavy; it is weak. I give thanks for the prayers of others. And I rely on the Spirit to intercede for him, for me. God sees all possibilities. God knows what is the best possibility, so all I can do is simply place it all before, within our Lord, the One who made heaven and earth--all creation, the One who shaped us out of the dust of the earth and breathed life into us, the One whose love for us is so boundless that this One came among us to live our life, share our grief, die for us and rise to new life for us. With sighs too deep for words I stand before this God who is Three-in-One and in my weakness, I find living breath.

Romans 8:26

Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words. 

A Interesting Perspective on Retirement

An interesting perspective on retirement was shared with me recently. A good friend when faced with a diagnosis of cancer found that he was sad and angry that he would not be able to enjoy his well-deserved retirement. After all, he had put in many years and much commitment into his career as a Family Practice physician. Wasn’t his retirement supposed to be his reward?

As he sought to chastise God for this disappointment, he said God had a different word for him. God told him that he had been given gifts to be used for God’s purposes, and that God would let him know when he would no longer need to use those gifts, and it had nothing to do with retirement.  My friend seemed to find peace in this new perspective. He knew that he would not necessarily work forever, but that his God-given gifts were not just for use in his career. They were to be used in God’s service. It was not a work for later rewards, but a use of his gifts for Christ’s kingdom.

We get so caught up in the world’s ways of looking at quid pro quo and rewards that we forget our God has a different economy. What would it be like for us to look at the gifts we have been given in such a totally fresh way? How much more pleasure could we find in serving in God’s kingdom in this way? How can we look at what we do as a way of using our gifts of healing and service rather than earning a reward or just a living?