Monday Eye-Opener: Pinholes

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Sometimes the most ordinary situations allow us to show the love of Christ to our friends, families and neighbors. Inner promptings let us know how we can serve others. We set aside our personal agendas to buy lunch for a homeless person, visit a friend in the hospital or even bring in the neighbor’s trash barrels.  

Yesterday in church, our pastor quoted Oswald Chambers:

 

“If I obey Jesus Christ in the seemingly random circumstances of life, they become pinholes through which I see the face of God.” — Oswald Chambers.

When I worked at a faith-based shelter for women and children, our

director described our job as being “the hands and feet of Jesus.” Every meal we served, every intake we completed, every laugh we shared may have been someone’s first glimpse of God’s love. Maybe our random acts of kindness are part of our own search for God.

 

“And you will seek Me and find Me when you search for Me with all your heart.” Jeremiah 29:13

 

I’m reminded that I don’t have to wait for dramatic events in order to be the hands and feet of Jesus. What really matters is that I give my whole heart to God in my everyday life. 

 

This week, as we rush through the usual work deadlines, appointments and errands, let’s pause long enough to recognize those “pinholes through which I see the face of God.” 

 

 

A New Thing

Before I sat down to write, I knew it had been a long time since my last post in this blog. But I was surprised when I saw that my most recent post was nearly two years ago! Like the last post, I am writing today as temperatures drop and winter approaches. As I cut back some of our shrubs and flowering vines, the backyard is beginning to look barren. In fact, the past two years have seemed barren, with never-ending reports of COVID-19 lockdowns, surges and new strains. 

I turned 60 this year, which means I am considered “senior” in some circles. The occasional senior discount is always welcome! But I can’t help noticing the stereotypes that persist about people over 60. Even in some churches, it’s not unheard of to see a maximum cutoff age of 45 for ordained ministry. In many ways, the world tells us that after a “certain age,” we are barren — not just regarding our ability to bear children, but our ability to contribute and inspire. 

 

I beg to differ. I’ve lost count of the number of older people God uses in the Bible. There’s Noah, Moses, Sarah and Elizabeth. Hannah cried out to the Lord and gave birth to Samuel. Naomi lost her sons and Ruth lost her husband in an age when no husband or sons meant no future. But both women carried on with faith and grit and found new hope. Barrenness is not a life sentence in the Lord’s eyes.

“…the LORD remembered her plea, and in due time she gave birth to a son. She named him Samuel, for she said, ‘I asked the LORD for him.’” 1 Samuel

 1:19-20 (NLT)

“The LORD kept his word and did for Sarah exactly what he had promised.” Genesis 21:1 (NLT)

“Then the women of the town said to Naomi, “Praise the LORD, who has now provided a redeemer for your family! May this child be famous in Israel. May he restore your youth and care for you in your old age. For he is the son of your daughter-in-law who loves you and has been better to you than seven sons!” Ruth 4:14-15 (NLT)

 

But barrenness doesn’t always refer to childlessness. We can experience many kinds of dry spells that make life seem like a wasteland. We long to conceive and give birth to something new. We cry out to God and wonder if our cries are heard. 

 

At times during the past two years, I felt adrift in a spiritual wasteland. I believed that something new was waiting to be born, and I rushed here and there trying to make it happen. I busied myself with church work, becoming a Deacon and eventually Deacon Moderator. The work blessed me richly, but I still felt depleted and sad. Then I immersed myself in Zen Buddhism, where I met lovely people but still felt spiritually and creatively exhausted.

 

Things began to turn around this summer and fall. I was intrigued by a sign announcing that a new church was holding worship services about a block from our house. “Love God. Love people,” the sign said. Then a couple of weeks ago, I was waiting for a city bus, heading home after doing errands. A young man sat next to me and began talking about Jesus and the Bible. 

 

“I hope you and your husband will open that book,” he said. We did. And I finally started attending the new church. It’s tiny — 30 people at most — but growing.

 

At my new church, we are studying the book of Ruth. I am reminded that God uses our circumstances to achieve His purpose for our lives. Like Ruth and Naomi, we can feel lost and even bitter. We work and wonder if we are still part of God’s plan. 

Image by ollis-picture via Pixabay

 

But God still has a purpose for me. I see hints of it with every “coincidence” and prompting. Where I once saw bewilderment and disappointment, I now sense a creative stirring. A quickening. A new story waiting to be born.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)

“Forget the former things;

do not dwell on the past.

See, I am doing a new thing!

Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?

I am making a way in the wilderness

and streams in the wasteland.” Isaiah 43:18-19 (NIV)

 

How about you? When have you experienced barrenness and cried out to God? What are the wombs that God has opened in your life? What new thing is waiting to be born?

When Winter Comes Early

“Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.” Luke 12:27 (ESV)

Our first snowfall cam a bit early this year. In many ways, the year 2020 has seemed liked an endless winter. During the COVID-19 lockdown in the spring, I was grateful for the refreshing beauty of our Idaho garden. Throughout the summer, I wanted to hold onto the colors and fragrances of the roses, mock orange, day lilies and — most of all — the purple lilac.

 

Purple lilac is the state flower of my native state, New Hampshire, and its sweet fragrance always triggers fond childhood memories. This year, the memories were especially poignant as my mom moved into a nursing home after a heart attack in July. The restrictions of COVID-19 made visits few and far between. I spent many afternoons sitting in our backyard, talking to my mom on the phone while looking at our beloved flowering shrubs and vines. 

When my mom passed away in October, the dwindling daylight hours matched my darkened state of mind. Grief became a heavy blanket that threatened to smother me. I desperately looked for a sign of hope. 

I found that sign in our lilac shrub, which holds springtime in its branches, even when winter comes early! You see, lilacs begin to form next year’s flower buds soon after they finish blooming. If you look closely, you can see these buds at the ends of the branches. 

It’s like seeing next spring in the middle of winter! I love that about plants — when the landscape looks dead and dreary, good things are already happening. 

“The flowers appear on the earth, the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.” Song of Solomon 2:12 (ESV)

Just as we can picture buds forming in the dead of winter, we can have faith that new beginnings are already underway. Grief, disappointment and other difficult passages bring winter’s chill into our lives. But hope has a way of sneaking up on us, even if we can’t see it at the moment. I see next year’s lilac buds and remember new life, resurrection, unexpected joy. 

Amen.

The Whole of Creation

“God created us 

to praise, reverence, and serve God 

and in this way to save our souls. 

God created all of the rest of creation 

to help us achieve the purpose for which 

God created us.”

St. Ignatius of Loyola

 

I read this quotation this week in an online retreat offered by Creighton University. My spiritual director recommended the retreat a few weeks ago, after I mentioned that I couldn’t seem to find a spiritual practice that was a good fit for my life. I’m so glad she did!

This quotation sparked a sense of wonder and gratitude for my relationship with God’s creation. I was struck by the different ways we can interpret the statement that God created the rest of creation to help us achieve God’s purpose for our lives. I have always been uncomfortable with the idea that creation — animals, plants, natural resources — should be at humanity’s beck and call. 

“The LORD God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it.“ Genesis 2:15

 

What if we recall our role as caretakers of the Garden? What if we read and take to heart the Bible verses that proclaim God’s love for all creation? 

 

“I now establish my covenant with you and with your descendants after you and with every living creature that was with you—the birds, the livestock and all the wild animals, all those that came out of the ark with you—every living creature on earth.” Genesis 9:9-10

 

“But ask the animals, and they will teach you,

or the birds in the sky, and they will tell you;

or speak to the earth, and it will teach you,

or let the fish in the sea inform you. 

Which of all these does not know

that the hand of the Lord has done this?” Job 12:7-9

 

“You will go out in joy

and be led forth in peace;

the mountains and hills

will burst into song before you,

and all the trees of the field

will clap their hands.” Isaiah 55:12

 

Perhaps, as St. Ignatius wrote, the rest of creation helps us when we see ourselves as part of the whole of creation. Maybe the earth, as the verse in Job tells us, really is waiting to teach us. For example, what if instead of exploiting natural resources, we learn to act as caretakers? 

 

“For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse.” Romans 1:20

 

If we are “without excuse,” then we are able — with God’s help — to use our resources to nourish and heal. Then we can indeed join every living creature, the mountains, hills and trees, in praise and joy. We will clearly see the ways in which the rest of creation can help us.

 

 

 

Our Own Worst Enemy?

As I read my Bible-in-a-year chapters the other day, I was struck by a couple of verses in Psalm 69. With online Easter worship still fresh in my mind, the verses reminded me of the power of Christ’s love, sacrifice and resurrection.

We’ve been living through strange and frightening times with this pandemic. As we shelter in place, it’s easy to feel besieged — by loneliness, boredom, fear, viruses. Our fears loom large after yet another sleepless night.

“Those who hate me without reason outnumber the hairs of my head; many are my enemies without cause, those who seek to destroy me. I am forced to restore what I did not steal.”
Ps 69:4

Yet when we feel overwhelmed by it all, we remember the love that led One to “restore what He did did not steal.” We can loosen our grip, even if it’s just a little at first. As my 12-step program teaches, we can surrender to our higher power “just for today.”

“Do not let the floodwaters engulf me or the depths swallow me up or the pit close its mouth over me.” Ps 69:15

But can’t our own thoughts behave like enemies? We worry about loved ones, opinions of others, even the next Presidential election. I know that when I’m tired or overwhelmed, my own thoughts seem to “engulf me” or “swallow me up.” Can you relate?

“Grace and peace be yours in abundance through the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord.” 2 Peter 1:2

“We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.” 2 Corinthians 10:5

Whether a threat is external or internal, God’s grace and peace never change. We are the ones who come and go, who hold tightly to our fears. But the more we seek knowledge of God, the more we can recognize God’s grace and peace.

Grateful for the One who paid what He did not owe, restored what He did not steal.

I hope this post finds you well!

He Has Set My Feet in a Spacious Place

Call it what you will: “shelter in place,” “lockdown,” “stay at home,” “self-quarantine.” Our individual worlds have become smaller due to a microscopic but deadly enemy. Shopping trips have dwindled to nervous visits to the grocery store, complete with face masks and social distancing. Hugs between friends are forbidden. Even medical appointments are postponed as hospitals and clinics are overwhelmed with COVID-19 concerns. We wonder, is there any way out?

I’ve been participating in a Bible-in-a-year study this year, and was struck by one of today’s readings, Psalm 31. At first, the Psalm impressed me as a fine example of King David’s laments. But I didn’t really identify with it on a personal level, since I am not persecuted or running for my life. 

Or am I? After reading the Psalm several times, one verse jumped out:

“You have not given me into the hands of the enemy but have set my feet in a spacious place.” Psalm 31:8 (NIV) 

I took another look at the word “enemy,” and thought of the coronavirus. But then I looked looked inward. Aren’t there enemies that attack us from within? Fear, boredom, resentment and greed can devour us from the inside out. Don’t we need God to deliver us from these enemies, too? 

“A spacious place.” Now more than ever, we crave space to travel freely. We’d love to browse through our favorite bookstore or eat in our favorite restaurant. Yet there’s also too much space between us, as visits with friends and colleagues are relegated to FaceTime and Zoom. But God can draw hearts closer in spite of social distancing, and give us a broader perspective while we’re sheltering in place.

I love this translation, too:

“You have not handed me over to my enemies but have set me in a safe place.” (NLT)

Whether it’s more space or less space, we look to God for a safe place — a place that transcends circumstances. We feel less isolated and resentful. We begin to notice opportunities for compassion for others as well as ourselves. 

“You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you.” Isaiah 26:3 (NIV)

“And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:7 (NIV)

“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD forever.” Psalm 23:6 (ESV)

There’s no getting around it: we still dream of get-togethers with loved ones, birthday parties for kids. We long for the day when we won’t have to say, “stay safe!” In the meantime, however, God enlarges our vision and reworks our plans. Knowing that we can rely on God’s goodness and mercy, we find respite in that safe and spacious place within. 

Tarnished Silver Lining?

I had big plans for the COVID-19 stay-at-home period. I would stay positive and savor the renewed sense of fellowship and caring I was witnessing in our community. Neighbors ran errands (and still do!) for their at-risk neighbors. Stores offered cure-side delivery and set aside shopping hours for elderly and high-risk customers. Brightly colored, encouraging chalk art appeared on local sidewalks. 

In short, we counted our blessings and noted how staying apart was drawing us closer. It was easy to find a silver lining to this dangerous time. 

But now, that silver lining has tarnished. Terror seeps in as the death toll continues to rise. On the news, we see field hospitals in New York’s Central Park. We hear reports of thousands of deaths in nursing homes — more than we previously realized. We worry obsessively about vulnerable loved ones. We miss seeing friends at the coffee shop, church or the gym. We carry out the surreal tasks of making protective masks, rationing toilet paper and wondering if the grocery shelves will be stocked today. In fact, it’s been weeks since I’ve set foot in a store.

How do I “stay positive” when each day looks less and less like the life I took for granted? The truth is, I can’t. None of us can, and we don’t have to because we can’t hold it together indefinitely.

We’re in good company, in fact. Even faith heroes of the Bible had moments when all they could do was wring their hands and sit with their pain. King David said it well, many times:

“My heart is afflicted, and withered like grass;

I even forget to eat my bread.” Psalm 102:4

“I am worn out from my groaning.

All night long I flood my bed with weeping

and drench my couch with tears.” Psalm 6:6

Then we are reminded that we are not alone:

“Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.” 1 Peter 5:7

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” John 14:27

Sometimes all we can do is lean on the One who can carry all our burdens. We still can’t see beyond the next report of confirmed COVID-19 cases. We still don’t know when we’ll be able to browse in a bookstore or celebrate a friend’s birthday in person. 

All we can do is take God’s word for it — that we are loved with a love that is bigger than we can comprehend. Somehow that love keeps us hanging on,  giving us eyes to see our present day sacrifices as acts of love. 

So we get out of bed another day, still bewildered by the statistics and warnings that bombard us. Who wouldn’t be? 

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30

I’ve often relied on this verse when my soul needs rest and refreshment. But today, I am struck by the words, “learn from me.” During a time of sheltering in place and social distancing, I certainly have the time and space to sit at His feet and listen, as did Martha’s sister Mary:

“She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said.” Luke 10:39

For now, I will take Jesus up on His offer, not just to find rest, but to learn from Him. Maybe the lessons will come during prayer, or quiet moments in the garden, or even in the midst of worry. 

“I will give you rest.”

We sure need it.

On Returning to the Doctor’s Office

“But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared,  he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit” Titus 3:4-5 (NIV)

Neither my 82-year-old mom nor I wanted to be at the wound clinic this morning. More than a year ago, my mom began treatments at the clinic for a stubborn wound on her ankle — a wound that still hasn’t healed. The doctors and nurses tried a variety of treatments, from simple to experimental. I learned how to change dressings. Sometimes the dressing changes were painful and nearly broke my heart. Hope alternated with self-doubt and even shame. After all, it had been over a year. Surely we must be doing something wrong?

“Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.” Hebrews 4:16 (NIV)

Lord, where are you in this?

This past October — tired and stressed from many months of treatments and disappointment — my mom decided to take a break from the clinic visits. The clinic staff were very understanding and told us they would be there if we needed them. At home, I continued to change the bandages. At times the wound appeared to improve, while other times it grew larger. Finally, my husband John wisely urged us to make an appointment at the wound clinic. 

“Hello, ladies!” my mom and I heard as we walked up to the check-in desk at the clinic this morning. “How have you been?” What a difference a kind word and smile can make! I felt my blood pressure decrease about 30 points as we chatted with the receptionist. But in the waiting room, we still nervously expected to be scolded for taking so long to make an appointment.

“Do not withhold your mercy from me, Lord;

may your love and faithfulness always protect me.” Psalm 40:11 (NIV)

Lord, give us strength and be with us.

“Judith?” A smiling medical assistant held the door open and waited as my mom stood up at her walker and got her bearings. “It’s so good to see you!”

Nurses lovingly attended to my mom’s ankle. They gently joked with her. And reassured me.

“Don’t worry. We totally understand how tiring all those appointments got to be.”

The doctor came in and explained that non-healing wounds are common and that there was no reason to feel that we had failed. He explained various choices in treatments, from aggressive to minimal maintenance. We’ll decide and let him know next week.

“There’s no wrong answer,” the doctor said. “And you can always change your mind.”

“Every time you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing.” — Mother Teresa

“She had suffered a great deal under the care of many doctors and had spent all she had, yet instead of getting better she grew worse. When she heard about Jesus, she came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak, because she thought, “If I just touch his clothes, I will be healed.” Mark 5:26-28

Later that afternoon, I peeked in my mom’s room as she took a nap. She looked more relaxed than she had in years. 

True, the venous ulcer my mom’s ankle has not healed. But I know that Jesus healed my mom’s wounded spirit when she reached out for help. 

We often hear of people being the “hands and feet” of Jesus. Many times this happens as we go about our everyday lives and jobs. “The kindness and love of God our Savior” had indeed “appeared” at the clinic this morning.  And it made all the difference.

He Knows How I Feel

It had been a stressful day, to put it mildly. I felt lost. Small. And so tired. On days like this, I often forget to eat a meal — usually lunch. I ate half my breakfast and tossed out the rest when I was sure no one was looking. When it was time for my evening prayer and devotions, I honestly couldn’t remember if I had eaten lunch or not. And you know what? I was even too tired for the Lord.

But this year,  I had renewed my commitment to my spiritual practice, and my spiritual director had encouraged me to stick with it, even when I did not feel like it. So I begrudgingly picked up my iPad and opened to the Daily Lectionary readings that I had bookmarked. Who knows? Maybe something will click.

“My heart is blighted and withered like grass; I forget to eat my food.” Psalm 102:4

Okay, so maybe one Person saw me throw away my half-eaten oatmeal and toast. 

God has these gentle ways of showing us that He sees. He hears. He knows how we feel. 

This moment of recognition gave new life to the assurance that “you are not alone.” King David knew this and praised God for it in the Psalms.

“In the day of my trouble I call on you, for you will answer me.” Psalm 82:6

“O LORD my God, I cried to you for help, and you have healed me.” Psalm 30:2

Hagar, Sarah’s slave, found “God Who Sees Me” — El Roi — after fleeing mistreatment from Sarah. 

"She gave this name to the LORD who spoke to her: “You are the God who sees me,” for she said, “I have now seen the One who sees me.”" Genesis 16:13

God sees you, too. He wants you to know and believe that you are not alone. The first step is to show up. Do you have a regular spiritual practice? When you devote that time and attention to the Lord, you will recognize God’s loving presence and guidance in your life. 

He is waiting to delight and surprise you — and remind you that you are His beloved child.

Be blessed!

Star Word 2020: Sure

My favorite day of the year at church is the day we choose our Star Words for the new year. We celebrate Epiphany — the commemoration of the visit of the Magi to the Christ child — by discovering and following our own stars. As we walk up the center aisle to take communion, we choose from dozens of cut-out paper stars, that lie face down on a table. We like to say that the words choose us as much as we choose the words. In past years, my words have intrigued me, inspired me and even scared me.

This year, my Star Word is “sure.” When I returned to my seat and read my word this morning, I immediately found it empowering and challenging. Like many of my fellow worshipers, I grabbed my phone and did a little research.

Here’s what Merriam Webster has to say:

Sure — 1) marked by or given to feelings of confident certainty
             2) characterized by a lack of wavering or hesitation

Hmm. This seems to speak to my tendency toward indecisiveness. At times, I take forever to make a decision. Maybe a nudge toward more readily stepping out in faith?

I like these related words: assured, positive, certain, confident.

“Faith makes us sure of what we hope for and gives us proof of what we cannot see.” Hebrews 11:1 (ESV)

“Therefore, brethren, be even more diligent to make your call and election sure, for if you do these things you will never stumble;” 2 Peter 1:10 (NKJV)

“Sure” feels like a confirmation as I go through a period of discernment. This fall, I stepped out of my comfort zone and taught an adult Sunday school class. I took my novice vows with the Order of Ecumenical Franciscans. I was nominated to be a deacon at church. And I’m sensing a tug toward deeper ministry.

“Sure” feels like a prompting, a what-are-you-waiting-for call. Time to focus on that inner work. A renewed commitment to 12-step work, spiritual practices, prayer.  

One thing I’m sure of is my admiration for the ministry of Compassion International.

The holiday season has come and gone, but you can still make a child’s day very special through Compassion International. You can sponsor a child for $38 a month. There are also many ways you can help children with a one-time donation, including critical needs, disaster relief and the unsponsored children’s fund. 

What word has chosen you this year? I pray that you experience a year of unexpected joys and a neverending sense of God’s presence!