Sunday, July 21, 2013

Sixty seconds? Just a minute!


I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;

    your works are wonderful,
    I know that full well. --Psalm 139:14


One of the many wonderful pages to which I subscribe on Facebook offered this Sabbath activity: 


"Take one minute and ponder the wonder of you."

What a great idea. As pastors everywhere offered lectionary sermons today on Mary and Martha (Luke 10:38-42), many of us have stopped and thought about how busy busy busy our lives have become, and where-- or when-- could we ever find time to simply spend time in Sabbath, in restful presence of the Lord?

Hmm. How about . . . now. Take just one minute (or more) and ponder the creation that is you and no one else

Start there. Think about the fact that there is no one just like you, and never will be. You are unique among all the humans ever created. 

* * * * *
Look at your hand. Notice the lines that crisscross your palm. Slowly bend and straighten your fingers and feel-- really feel the muscles working together. Don't focus on the pain or stiffness that may come with age (there, I said it), but on the way the palm muscles fold as the back-of-the-hand muscles stretch.

Your fingerprints. One of a kind. No one else has ever had those exact whorls and swirls that identify you. Years ago, I cut my middle finger quite badly, and the scar is still evident-- but the fingerprint remains. 

A palm reader could tell you about your lifeline and your heart line-- each special and unique (and I am pretty sure each palm reader's analysis is special and unique, as well)! The secrets of each one of our identities, carefully enswathed in the palms of our hands. 

Pretty amazing, eh?

* * * * *
Your legs. Your feet. The way those bones and muscles operate, allowing us to walk and to skip and to run (and sometimes, to fall flat-- but to get up again)! Every element of your body, in perfect design.

Oh, sure, there are times the design seems less-than-perfect. And I have no explanation to offer. So ponder for a moment the "real" you, the essence of who you are. The indomitable expression of your true self that goes beyond any physical appearance. Some would say . . . your soul

And a beauty it is, too. Designed to love, perfected in creation by the Almighty. Even if you have an identical twin, no one has your smile, your laugh, your sense of humor.

No one.

* * * * *
Take a look at your hair. Straight or curly, blonde, black, blue or grey-- or missing-- the Almighty took inventory of every hair on your head-- he cares that much!

And if you are at all like me . . . there will be days when there is very little about my hair that makes me happy. God, it's so humid today-- my hair just goes flat! Lord, when did all those grey ones show up? Ack!!

And I will walk outside, and a gentle breeze will grab one of those droopy, grey strands and move it around a little, and on my best days, that breeze will remind me of the Spirit that blows where it will, loves me no matter what kind of hair day I am having. (You, too.)

* * * * *
And your face. Your beautiful, perfect face. Maybe it bears the lines that tell of a life well-lived: lines from tears wept in heartache or loss, creases from spending time in laughter with good friends. Maybe, over the years, acne or injuries have left their mark. Still-- you are beautiful, inside and out

Perfect.

People look at a newborn baby and exclaim, "Oh she looks just like Aunt Martha!" "He has his father's nose-- and those ears! Just like his dad at that age!"

Or not.

Truth is, you do have your Father's eyes. And his sense of humor. And that nose-- well, your heavenly Father designed it, for sure. So yes, you even have your Father's (or Mother's) nose.

And no matter how much it resembles someone else's-- it's all yours. You are a unique, wonderful, perfect creation. Unlike any other, ever.

And the same is true for every person you will ever meet, regardless of race, or religion, or gender-- or anything else. Each person, deeply and wholly beloved of God.

That. Is. So. Cool.

So the next time life is beating you up (or down), stop. Take a breath-- there's another wonder-- and reflect on who you are and Whose you are. Rest in the knowledge that you are God's own beloved.



Gracious, ever-creating God, thank you for each person, for their beauty and uniqueness. Help me, Lord, to love and appreciate myself-- and each Child of yours-- for the wondrous, fearfully made creation we are. Amen

Friday, July 12, 2013

All better now.

The heavens declare the glory of God, 
the skies proclaim the work of his hands. 
Day after day they pour forth speech; 
night after night they reveal knowledge. 
--Psalm 19:1-2


I have had one of those days. Not a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. More like a mediocre, lackluster, when-will-the-tides-ever-turn day. It started early, and was long in letting up.

My wonderful cat Maizie was going through her entire repertoire of annoying things designed to make me get up and feed her. Sitting on my chest. Bumping her teeth on the gooseneck lamp and making a really lovely sound. Licking the plastic bag in the bathroom trash can. Gah! A mom can only take so much.

Megan's cats joined in. Feeding them all (yes, there are now four for a couple more weeks) is a circus, anyway. This morning-- ack! I couldn't get it down fast enough, and there was yowling and prowling and rolling around on the floor. (The cats, not me.)

And "somebody" apparently was unsure she would get her fair share, so she ate really really fast-- and promptly upchucked on the window sill. Ugh!

I tried to psych myself up to take a walk. I really needed it. I decided for a change to drive down to the Metroparks and walk along the river. It should be interesting, I thought, in light of all the rains we have had.

I suppose it was fine. But there were lots of speeding bicyclists and road crews making noise. And my twisted ankle from a few weeks ago started barking again. Instead of three or four miles, I barely made it one-and-a-half. Grr.

Oh, and speaking of noise-- the neighbors continued with the power-washing and power-mowing and power-tooling. So many grinding, grating noises to make me want to close the windows-- but then I would lose the cool breezes. 

Sheesh.

So it went, for a good deal of the day. I just felt-- cranky. Off kilter.

Then tonight I was out running an evening errand, just before sundown. And suddenly, all the junk just washed away.

There were mare's tails and mackerel scales, contrails and puffy clouds, all tinged in various shades of gold and purple and pink and even mauve. Divine brush strokes highlighting the western sky.

No, wait-- that's not right. It wasn't just the western sky; it was the entire contour of the heavenly realm. Every direction, every corner tinged with color and light-- and of course, all just for me

All I had to do was open my eyes to see.

All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well. (Julian of Norwich)

I didn't need a rainbow to see the promise of God. There it was, laid out before me, brilliant and perfect in the evening light.

Thank God for happy endings.

Saturday, July 6, 2013

Shake it off. . . .

“The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few." --Luke 10:2
(Full passage: Luke 10:1-11)

In case you hadn't noticed, Jesus loves a good metaphor. Sometimes, given the way our lives barely resemble those of his original audience-- or even the audience of a hundred years ago-- we need to slow down and look at what Jesus is saying between the lines (or sometimes, right in front of our faces, but while we are so busy looking for a deeper meaning we miss it!).

So here's Jesus, sending his disciples out two-by-two. And he compares the mission field to a harvest. Plentiful harvest, he says. Few workers for the harvest. 

Some people read that and decide it means we really need to get on it, already, and work really really hard and fast to save these souls. And yes, I think that may be a part of it. But let's look a little closer at this harvest metaphor.

Jesus does not tell his disciples that the whole field is ripe and in need of immediate pickin'. This is important, because from here, he goes on to explain how his followers are to determine the "ripeness" of the fruit.

Go to a house, he says, and offer peace. If the peace is returned, if hospitality is offered, then stay. Stay and enjoy the fellowship. And as you fellowship with one another, as you develop relationship, teach what Jesus has taught you. Offer love, healing-- hope. If you are feeling welcomed, stay awhile. 

On the other hand-- if you are not greeted in love, move on. Shake the dust from your robes and move on. 

Perhaps this fruit is not yet ripe. This is not the only tree in the orchard.

But here's something else: In both cases, with those who welcome and those who do not, Jesus' message to be delivered is the same. 

"The Kingdom of God is at hand."

I think some people use this as a threat. Repent now, or God's a-gonna get you. But that's not what I hear. (I could be wrong, but in this case, it's a chance I will take.)

The Kingdom, or Reign of God is at hand. Our God is a God of love. So the love of God is passing nearby. In the person of these disciples-- and in you and in me-- the message of "Love God, love one another" is made flesh. For those whose lives are ripe for belief and those who are still a little green and hard, perhaps a bit sour yet.

Everyone hears the message. We plant seeds for a future harvest. There may be no yield-- ever-- in our lifetime. But we plant and we plant and we plant, offering the message of a loving King to all who have ears. We never know when those ears may be ready to actually hear the message. (Works better still if we are living the message instead of just speaking it.)

And here's another thing I think is important about this harvest imagery:

One bad apple will not spoil the entire harvest.

One surly greeting should not deter us (for long) from continuing to offer the love of Christ with our very lives. 

And for those still struggling to believe-- one person whose message of "love" seems off-base or insensitive or excluding or ugly should not cause you to color all who follow Jesus with the same brush stroke. 

Harvest time. Much work to be done. And let's try not to bruise the fruit in the process.

Lord, you have loved us with an endless, perfect love. Help is, in our humanity, to offer the best love we can manage-- a kind word, a sandwich, perhaps a pair of shoes-- to all who cross our paths. Amen