When I was a child I was afraid of the deep water. When someone said, “we’re going to the deep end” of the pool, I was immediately full of fear. These days, I live in the deep water. Sometimes it’s fun. Sometimes it’s scary. I’ve finally learned that no matter the circumstance (scary, fun or otherwise!) … Read more About
Nudges of your Spirit come in the wee hours. Perhaps, Lord, someone you love is reaching for your hand of grace. We are seen. Even in the wee hours. Reaching into the dark spaces of grief and uncertainty of pain. Come now, Holy Spirit, come. Come now with your mercy into the wee hours of our lives.
Where suffering has interrupted the days of a focused life; Lord have mercy. When grief grips our souls and tugs against the pursuit of healing; Lord have mercy. For the past that returns unwanted, for the futures we dare to dream; Lord have mercy. Bring your arms of grace around our trembling bodies. Offer your blanket of peace to cover the places of our lives left out in the cold unattended.
Lead us to our simple prayers: Help! Mercy! Come quickly Lord Jesus to help us! Remind us again that your love persists In the wee hours In the waking hours In all hours.
For you, Holy God, created us and placed us in time on earth Where your grace is never offered too early, and never arrives too late. We find our peace in the arms of the resurrected Christ holding us all again. One miracle moment at a time. Bring rest. Restore our breathing. Bring peace. Let your love lead us back to sleep. Amen.
I confess to praying for snow. It is selfish and I know not everyone needs or wants it. I need the falling mystery that changes everything overnight. I welcome the joy of overwhelming delight; the invitation to play. I hope for it every winter and even in the quiet of the night, I sometimes pray, “Lord, if we can experience the snow, please bring it.” This morning we woke up to beautiful snow. How absolutely wonderful! A gift.
I realize now that I was waiting for it…the snow. Perhaps even this particular snow on the 3rd of January 2022. The “word” for this year came a few weeks ago and was confirmed as we listened and let the days pass through the new year. The year of Peace.
Jan 3 2022
Lord, we embrace the peace you give: Peace in your timing; it is perfect, we trust you. Peace in our life’s work; it is meaningful, we need it. Peace with our pace; not ahead of you and never too far behind. Peace in our serving; for your glory and never our own. Peace in our location; for wherever you are and wherever you send us, is where we need to be. Peace in our friendships; may they bless and encourage; sharpen and never harm. Peace in our joy; let it come from deep wells of your grace, unhindered by circumstance. Peace in our whole being; for how you created us is enough. We are formed in your image.
Gracious Creator,give us Peace in our grounding of you for though the mountains fall and the earth shakes though our spirits mourn and our hearts break though our laughter is fleeting, our joy is unending For in all of this: – you are forever and ever our God. You do not leave or forsake. You are steadfast and trustworthy. You bring possibilities out of our impossibles. You redeem what we thought could never be. You pick us up, dust us off and call us beloved. You are the author and finisher of our faith. Our Savior. In you and through you, we find and hold our Peace.
Welcome to the year of Peace. Whatever comes, we are confident of God’s holy presence with us.
I learned the practice from a friend several years ago. When prayer is needed and it’s all you can do, light a candle and let it burn. Let it be a sign and a reminder to hold that person or situation in prayer as you go about your space. Trust God to hear your spirit and love to cover the gaps.
There is a candle burning in my space today. It’s for those I love who suffer, and those who are fulfilling dreams. For leaders trying to navigate an unknown future and healthcare professionals offering healing in whatever way they can. It’s for those whose past haunts them and for those courageously walking the path of recovery step by step. The candle burns with prayers for hope, healing, strength and joy. The candle burns with love. If it is all I am able to give, I trust God that it is enough. Light a candle. Pray. God will move mountains at just the right time and place to reveal the presence of Christ among us.
My neighbor’s front porch was the space I didn’t ever want to be without. She would be sitting in the swing, and I would make the walk across the street. In the country this is a short journey. It was long enough to stop my rushing; short enough to always be just a few minutes away. My hill was steeper than hers, but I walked downhill first, then up her drive and climbed the steps to land safely on the swing beside her.
There we shared the stuff of life. We laughed. We cried. We made fun of life and dared the disappointments to unravel us. We spoke of holy things but remained solidly grounded in our lives on earth; we didn’t attempt to ascend further. Her kitchen was my wonderland but the swing on her front porch was my safe and sacred space. Maybe for her too.
Bear one another’s burdens and thus fulfill the law of Christ. – Galatians 6:2
Today is her birthday. Her long life on earth ended 15 years ago and our porch visits a few years before her death. We took our conversations up in other places; I learned it was not the porch I cherished so much; it was her. I remember every day and every visit with much gratitude! I still draw from the conversations and laughter we enjoyed – the way you do when a true friend steps into your heart. The blessing never stops giving. Even when they are not physically with you, your heart holds them close just the same.
You don’t have to have a front porch to experience the gift of true friendship. It may be rare, but it is available: to both offer and receive. In a season where the wonder and tinsel are showing up in many places, don’t forget to find your sacred space in the comfort of a trusted friend. Sometimes just a conversation makes much of life fall reasonably into place, at least for a little while.
God, thank you for the friends that share the journey. Thank you for the ways you keep making your presence with us known on earth.
Thanksgiving Eve, 2021. When the small town you landed in way back when, turns into a little city where everyone wants to live, the holidays change too. Live music outside the grocery store, people milling about everywhere and an abundance of everything….except rosemary! There is a sense that everyone is preparing with anticipation that “gathering” is fully back. It is almost as if everyone is praying that we are all “OK” as we gather. I get it. Being with friends and family in this season is a huge gift! A lot of life has happened in the past 20 months. No one and no family is exactly the same. It’s OK for us just to name it.
The grace of bridging the past with a still unfolding future is not an ordinary move. It’s different. People have been through things. Grief has entered our lives in waves we’ve not before experienced. Joys have been greater; sorrows have been deeper. We are still trying to sort out what our “normal” will be; all the while holding our hands wide open to what we have yet to see.
We are preparing (actually, I did no preparing) to walk/run the Turkey Trot in the morning. It is a favorite way to begin the day and support our local food bank. I love beginning Thanksgiving Day with the community and for a great cause. It makes the feast even better.
I pulled my grandmother’s stitched wisdom from where it hangs and placed it on the kitchen counter today. I don’t want to miss it as I prepare to celebrate this Thanksgiving. Her signature is on the back: dated 1968, along with her address label from Gracey, KY. Grandma Lester’s wisdom is something we all may need as we gather on Thanksgiving Day 2021. In some strange way, I wonder if she stitched it so we would be faced with seeing it many years later. Perhaps even before hosting friends and family at our tables.
Whatever you have prepared for Thanksgiving Day – it is enough. Whoever gathers at your table will be blessed by your love, whether it is with one or with fifty. The house doesn’t have to be spotless. The food will be good, however little or much. The setting doesn’t have to be any more than is naturally there. What does matter, is how much love is present. This is why people come to the feast.
God, please bless our tables with your grace. Let our love for the people gathered be the most important gift we bring. Fill the empty chairs with your presence so any grief is met with your love and comfort. Season our conversations with the wisdom of your spirit. Help us to hear one another with compassion and curiosity. Remind us, Lord, of all the ways you have been so faithful and present with us! However you stir us in this season of gratitude, we thank you. We trust you, Lord, and we love you. Amen.
“Is it raining?” “No…the leaves are falling.” How beautiful is the sound of falling leaves and all that the woods speak as we walk along the path.
The prophet, Malachi, writes about God’s interactions with the people of Israel. The people have grown weary of dealing with evil and seeing wickedness prosper. They complain and God responds:
“You have spoken arrogantly against me,” says the Lord. “Yet you ask, ‘What have we said against you?’ “You have said, ‘It is futile to serve God. What do we gain by carrying out his requirements and going about like mourners before the Lord Almighty? But now we call the arrogant blessed. Certainly evildoers prosper, and even when they put God to the test, they get away with it.’”
Then those who feared the Lord talked with each other, and the Lord listened and heard. A scroll of remembrance was written in his presence concerning those who feared the Lord and honored his name. “On the day when I act,” says the Lord Almighty, “they will be my treasured possession. I will spare them, just as a father has compassion and spares his son who serves him. And you will again see the distinction between the righteous and the wicked, between those who serve God and those who do not. – Malachi 3:13-18
When we are surrounded by reports of awful acts in the world or standing face to face with insults and language that attempts to reduce us to dirt, it helps to simply stop and listen to the one who created us. What I love in this brief glimpse into Malachi’s story, is that there are some people among the Israelite crowd that choose to do something different than stay in their weariness and complaint. They talked to each other. They remembered God’s character and faithfulness. They chose to trust God and stay on the path of holiness. And God noticed.
We don’t always feel like God’s treasured possession, but that IS who we are called to be. As messy or weary as we may feel on any given day – what we ARE is God’s treasured possession. As strong and powerful as we may think we are on any given day – what we ARE is God’s treasured possession. These are truths we embrace, receive and acknowledge because they remind us of who God is and who God created us to be. We don’t have to manufacture this; it IS because of God’s presence in our lives.
As you start your Monday morning, may you know that the path of righteousness leads to fullness of life for you. Remember the One who created you and guides you in the way you are to walk through this day. You are God’s treasured possession and no circumstance or person, nor any power operating in this world can take that away. Be loved!
How has God reminded you that you are loved and treasured? Write it down. Remember it in times that weariness is present. God is with you.
Prayer: Lord, lead our paths in ways that honor you. We trust you and we love you. Amen.
I love the way fall arrives. Every day there is a change, some signal that transition is happening. We anticipate the beauty that will come. We delight in the changes that we enjoy. We sigh (and maybe complain a little) about things we don’t embrace so easily: like an hour less of daylight!
Creation tries to teach us to receive it all, and trust that something right and amazing is unfolding. If I stop at the stream long enough I will see things falling away. Hedge apples drop to the ground. Leaves turn colors and float to some landing place. All the while, something new emerges. The deer is in pursuit, focused for the season. The squirrels prepare for winter, gathering up all they will need. Frost sneaks in the early morning hours and covers the earth, preparing for the winter on its way. All waiting for a child’s spirit to notice.
Perhaps God speaks in these transitions. Reassuring us that we are not alone in any season. Reminding us that way leads to way. Encouraging us to trust the Creator to keep guiding us along the path. Walk slowly and watch. Walk softly and listen. The whispers of the Spirit arrive in many ways.
Creator God, we welcome you to reveal yourself to us today. We invite the whisper of your Spirit to stir us from our slumber. We ask for the grace of your help – giving us wisdom in moments we most need it. Bring hope into our days and fill us with your Peace. Amen.
Blessed are those who mourn,
for they will be comforted.
- Jesus in the Gospel of Matthew 5:4
Sitting on the granite tombstone of my great grandfather; it always seemed so big. On this day it was a seat that held me up when my body was overwhelmed with grief. My shivering from the freezing cold had subsided under the heaviness of my crying.
I was broken. There in the middle of the deep Golden Pond woods where no one could hear, I lay my flowers on my brother’s grave and sat on the tombstone of my ancestors. And cried. I couldn’t stop. Every breath was too deep and too hard. How would I ever be able to stop?
She walked out of the woods and straight to the flowers. The dirt still looked fresh on his grave, even though the frozen ground and flurries held the space. She smelled the flowers, as if to acknowledge their beauty. And then, she held me. She stared right at me, and my heaving sighs stilled. She didn’t look at me with fear as if to jump quickly away if I made a move. She held my eyes. Her compassion surrounded me. My tears stopped. My breath became so slow and present. She wasn’t leaving. I couldn’t move.
She kept holding my gaze. As if to say:“Why are you crying? He is not here. He has gone on. You will see him again.” Her presence was comfort for my breaking heart. Her compassion immeasurable. She lingered.
Just as quietly as she arrived, she turned and walked slowly back into the woods. It has been a long time since that moment. I still remember her compassion. When I pause to think of this kindness, I am deeply comforted. People also reached out to us during those early months of our grieving. And still…nearly 42 years later, people are still reaching out to say, “I remember”. Whether it is a word or a faded picture or a story he left on their lives; presence of spirit brings comfort.
On All Saints Day we remember the people of faith who have gone before us. In our church we will celebrate them with banners and singing and joy in worship. When we gather this Sunday, we will share Holy Communion with the shared belief that one day we will all feast together at the heavenly banquet. It is a glimpse into heaven on earth. One of our most holy days.
I got up from my great grandfather’s tombstone and stood over the dirt where my brother’s body is buried. The flowers were beautiful even though I knew the cold January air would only hold them for a little while. I walked slowly back to my car. Comforted and in peace.
I knew there would be more days of mourning, some of which would still leave me holding my stomach and heaving with tears. But this moment with God and a doe who came to visit me in my grief is also part of my story, and it never stops giving peace.
God, please bring comfort to your people who are grieving. Open our minds and spirits to receive you in whatever ways you offer your love and compassion to us today. Help us to celebrate the lives of all who have gone before us, and to honor the lingering gift of their love. Amen.
What to do when someone you love is grieving: You don’t have to have the perfect words to say. Sometimes presence is enough. Often, it is enough. Write the letter. Make the call. Stop by. Offer your hand. Give a hug. God takes care of the rest. Trust.
Answer me quickly, O LORD: my spirit fails. Do not hide your face from me or I will be like those who go down to the pit. Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul. Rescue me from my enemies, O LORD, for I hide myself in you. Teach me to do your will, for you are my God; may your good Spirit lead me on level ground. – Psalm 143:7-10
David wrote this prayer. In all seasons of his life, he had challenges. As a shepherd it was protecting a flock of sheep from the wolves and predators. As a warrior it was leading men into battle. As a person called by God, it was the sheer struggle of trusting when things were hard and discerning the way to keep being faithful. David’s enemies were often other warriors, but not only other warriors.
“Enemies” are not only in battle. Sometimes enemies are doubt and fear that paralyze; lies that swarm in our heads or through other voices around us; distractions that lure us from the primary focus of our lives. In each situation, we have access to a deeper wisdom and divine help that comes from our Creator. We need only pause long enough to seek a different perspective. A perspective that brings the wisdom of all time into view. Is this the prayer for you right now?
The LORD loves us right where we are and however we are, right now. It is a love that does not fail. We don’t earn it or buy it or bargain for it. We receive and welcome the arms of God that are reaching out for us. It is a humble and brave embrace.
Holy God, in the same way you heard David’s voice asking and trusting you for help, please hear ours. In the same way you have been faithful throughout the generations to respond as the prayers of your people rise up from wherever they are, thank you for coming near to us today. Do not let us go. Amen.
For no matter how many promises God has made, they are “yes” in Christ. And so through him the “Amen” is spoken by us to the glory of God. – II Corinthians 1:20
These words of Paul in his letter to the people of Corinth seem to jump out at me this morning. This one radical claim that all of God’s promises are “yes” in Christ is profound. I hear freedom in these words. Jesus may come to me with focus, but Jesus doesn’t come to me with chains.
He comes, instead, with an invitation to dance. He comes with an offer to spend the afternoon on the lake or taking on the adventure of visiting someone that no one wants to touch. Jesus shows up in the temple reading the prophets and then rescues the woman being shamed in the town square. He runs to the mountains and desert to get restored and then comes right back with all the love and grace people need to experience. This is a “yes” that makes sense.
If all of God’s promises are “yes” in Christ, then perhaps our desire to receive and live these promises is much closer than we imagine. Rather than a protocol, which the people already had with the Law, Jesus offers us the heart and practical “being” in the world as children of God. We’ve been invited to dance. Remember how that works? Let go of the steps and just follow the Spirit’s lead. This is an invitation we can trust.
Before I had time to set my mind on reading, the October sunrise was offering praise. I do wonder if it was some obvious way of reminding us that we’ve been invited to dance with the joy of promises being fulfilled? Just in case – I hope we can find it within our spirits today to just say “yes!”
Jesus, if you invite us to dance today, please free us up enough to say “yes” and trust however you lead. We love you! Amen.
Life in the Deep End 