I’ll go at sunrise and wait by the river give my soul a rest trust the cycle of life trust the One who created it. Others arrive too. A morning swim fishing a bit pondering the quiet of another day emerging.
A breath from earth is missing; suffering ceases. A presence in heaven is added to the chorus that never stops singing. Hearts wake up aching Hearts wake up rejoicing Our Creator holds it all.
I’ll go at sunrise and wait by the river give my soul a space to receive the sacred gift of this day. Others arrive too.
Pondering Easter Monday I wonder… How wild will resurrection be without us in control? How far will grace reach? How high will mercy rise? What unexpected justice will be revealed? How deep will the Love of a sacrificial redemptive transformative Act of God go?
Will resurrection overwhelm my bent to sin – my arrogance, the pride, an ever-evolving ego? Will resurrection move so quickly ahead of me that all I was so concerned about simply vanishes into the faithful provision of God who already knew the need before I cried out in prayer?
Does resurrection power wait for me to act? The disciples scattered at the crucifixion. The women went to the tomb not for evidence of resurrection, but to honor the dead.
Where am I going on Easter Monday? What will I find along the way? Because Christ is not waiting on me.
And yet – his hand is reaching out across eternity and all the barriers I can ever erect. Again and again, his hand appears, even with scars from the nails. I hear the invitation… “Come on now, let’s run forward together there is so much more my Father and I have to show you!
Easter Monday Resurrection unleashed Hope and Provision inviting me to come along. As Frost might say, “you come too.” Let it be.
“FOR NOTHING IS IMPOSSIBLE WITH GOD” – the angel Gabriel in the Gospel of Luke 1:37
It’s not just a story for Christmas. It’s not just a story about unexpected pregnancies. It is a story that reminds us clearly that God can and does do anything with people, creatures, and all of creation. (Luke 1 is the reading)
Elizabeth and Zechariah, along with Mary and Joseph are two couples having an unbelievable experience with the holy. Mysterious. Outside of cultural norms. Breaking with traditional expectations, and even physical capabilities. It is miraculous and yes…unbelievable. It just does not make sense.
And yet, something inside Elizabeth trusts in this impossible message. Perhaps because the dream of having a child was so deeply embedded in her that the message aroused her hope. Or maybe all hope was gone, and she simply waited for the message to become realized in her body. Something inside Mary embraced what Gabriel had to say even though she could not comprehend it all; she accepted it as real and worthy of her full embrace. And so, these two women just kept going. They kept their eyes and ears on a faithful focus and let the “impossible” unfold.
Their husbands had a different experience and in their own time and own way, they also moved forward. Much is left unsaid about this. What is communicated is clear: nothing hindered the work of God in Mary and Elizabeth. It was never about Mary or Elizabeth. It was – and is – about what God was doing and whomever and however God chose to engage people in that holy adventure.
My grandfather was a farmer who often did things differently than his peers. He had a spiritual gift of faith and spent a lot of tractor time in the fields talking and listening for God. He took risks while others judged him crazy. He made decisions that others could not understand. He simply kept his eyes and heart focused on the next faithful step. The life of my grandparents, over time, yielded a miracle. A family spread all over the world with the deep unconditional love of God embedded in our DNA. Generations later, the miracle is still unfolding; it is not finished.
I really struggle when I lose my confidence. My work and life often require me to face difficult things. Depending on the Holy Spirit to help and trusting God to guide me is a critical part of the journey for me. Mary and Elizabeth faced a lot of obstacles and challenges. And yet, at each turn God provided a way for the miracle to persist…for birth to happen…for journeys to land in just the right place at just the right time. And here we are, thousands of years later, still marveling in awe and wonder and thanksgiving and praise for the ways God ushered forth the kingdom of heaven.
Doubt and fear are common enemies that creep up on us. Questions enter the mind: Is it too late? Am I too old or too young? Not enough education or experience? Look too different or think outside what is considered “normal”? Did I miss a critical piece that cannot be redeemed or restored? I could have, should have, would have, ….etc. Fill in your own blanks. Doubt and fear are not creative, and the patterns can be detected.
That is not how God works in our lives. Nothing is impossible with God. Trust the whispers of God in your life. Hold them in your heart and remain humble for how God walks with you. Say “yes” if you are given an invitation by God! Embrace the gift if God presents one into your life. However God comes to you…let it unfold one moment at a time as you simply do the next faithful step. Including sitting still when silence and stillness is the posture you’re invited to take.
With God all things are possible. THAT is the message that persists as we see God at work in the world fulfilling all that is promised. Trust it. Embrace it. Put your hope in it.
Prayer
Lord, we struggle with so many things. You see it. You know our deepest doubts and fears. You also know what we are capable of when you are the one acting in our lives. Please help us to hear you in whatever way you reveal yourself to us. Guide our steps and make straight on our paths. Remind us, Lord, that nothing will hinder your work from being fulfilled. Redirect our ponderings to that which you have planted deep within us. Thank you for restoring our confidence and hope in YOU. Thank you for all the generations that keep sharing the story of your faithfulness. We have so much joy in your presence! Amen.
So many beginnings! Walking into new classrooms Establishing “home” wherever we’re landing Sometimes for a while Sometimes for what may seem as if it could be forever Like a plant that grows in the forest revealing more beauty with each passing season. God is watching over us.
When the tears of grief arrive inconveniently where no one knows your loss Or The memory of love brings an unexpected smile that cannot be concealed And When dreams persist and insist on not being forgotten even when you tuck them away or send them down the river with peace… God is watching over you.
While setting up a new office Learning how to navigate a road you didn’t know you would need to take Accepting a diagnosis that asks your routine to adjust; doesn’t that seem rude? Discovering what we didn’t know about each other, and now we can’t forget. Grace stands near, ready to assist. More deep breaths We will all be OK. Creator, God, is here. Pause and receive.
Lord, thank you for creating us with capacity to experience the fullness of this life. For endings and beginnings For sorrow and deep joy For love in its many forms Bringing forth beauty and blessing As if you knew all along, we’d be turning around to ask for help. Thank you. Help us to be aware of your presence among us today. Amen.
God of Peace and Mercy God of Wisdom and Grace We acknowledge you who hold all things and are in all things. Thank you for the ways you reveal your glory to us and around us. The stillness of the summer air in June The watchful eye of a hawk in the morning The love in households where people are preparing for the day; The silence in places where nature is the companion.
Rush in, Holy Spirit. Rush in Great Redeemer. Rush in to change the conversations among families and friends, work teams and leaders, strangers on the street and whomever is in our path. We welcome you, Holy God, to turn our attentions where they need to be so that we can see your mighty hand at work. We know and trust, Holy God, that you are indeed present and acting right now. Mold us into what we do not know Transform us bit by bit or all at once; we need you. We trust you completely so we yield all of ourselves… to you. Thank you, Lord, for your steady faithfulness and for not giving up on any of us.
We love you. Amen.
The path of the righteous is like the first gleam of dawn, shining ever brighter til the full light of day. But the way of the wicked is like deep darkness; they do not know what makes them stumble. – Proverbs 4:18-19
I live in this holy sacred space Silence our shared language Mystery of the morning hours Returning at night when dreams make sleep move over to the other side Leaving me with scenes to ponder.
Prayer comes breath by breath grounding me somewhere you Ask me to be. I don’t always know where you’re taking me.
Your presence is Always enough. Like the sound of the voice of Someone I love You almost need to do nothing except make me aware of your Presence.
“…in your presence there is fullness of joy and life everlasting.”
Psalm 16:11 Ash Wednesday, 2024 Vona Rose Wilson 2/14
Creator of All, you are the Light of morning you are the comfort in the dark. Thank you for the way you greet us today. We are in awe of your mighty hand – painting the sky and forests for us sending the river across the rocks hurling through the bends of current running… refusing to be stopped, living fully. We are in awe, Lord, of your strength and mercy your covenant and forgiveness your certainty and freedom. Thank you for loving us even as we try to make you into the image that we can comprehend.
We misunderstand your greatness. Please keep surprising us with your mighty hand making all things new. New in our hearts and minds New in our communities and in your world. We love you. We trust you completely. We yield the day, the week, our lives…into your hands. Amen.
A cold winter day in January with lingering snow on the ground is a good invitation for prayer. After a week of pause in yielding to nature’s course, the days may hold too much. It doesn’t all have to be crammed into Monday, or even Tuesday. Faithfulness to a day’s work is enough. The past week is not “lost”, it was provided. Playing in the snow or reading a good book, even dealing with busted pipes, it all “counts” as fullness in living.
Take the day and live it. Fully. With tears when grief is present. With laughter and all out joy if that gift is offered. With strength and mercy, compassion, and wisdom. Carefully. Fully. Humbly. As one deeply loved, even when you don’t know it.
We were sitting in the Chapel of my hometown church in Princeton, Kentucky. The casket of a community legend focused our attentions. She was a teacher in a small town. There is not a life here that is left untouched by her 90+ years. Fall flowers offered beauty and praise. And we visited. Old friends. Our stories and memories colliding in the wrinkles of our faces. Laughter. Gratitude. Surprise. Collectively we have lived many years. We hold so much from this small town.
The drive there and back is blessed by the trees of Tennessee and Kentucky. We get it all! Every color. The depth of changes. Some green lingers to remind us change is around the corner, or just a few hours down the road. A few bare limbs make clear the winter ahead. Stories shared along the way full of new life springing up from old. Mom tells the story of the first time Dick attended church with her when they were dating. We listen a little deeper.
My reading this morning includes the fifth and sixth chapter of Mark. I am struck by the power that is experienced with just a touch of Jesus. The desire and seeking of many people just to get close enough to touch him, with the hope of being healed.
55 They ran throughout that whole region and carried the sick on mats to wherever they heard he was. 56 And wherever he went—into villages, towns or countryside—they placed the sick in the marketplaces. They begged him to let them touch even the edge of his cloak, and all who touched it were healed. (Mark 6:55-16 NIV)
The halls of my hometown church hold their own memories. I ran and walked those halls with all the love and comfort a community of faith offers. Every adult, both young and old, knew my name and watched for me as part of that love. Someone was always paying attention. We were loved and we knew it, even though we didn’t know what we were experiencing.
I suppose we were like the people who ran from wherever they were to see if they could touch Jesus. Or that Jesus might see them and reach out with a touch. A touch that holds love. And healing. And hope.
It is raining this morning and the leaves will drop at the arrival of wind and colder temps. The beautiful colors will soon be replaced by the stark strength of bare limbs standing strong, clearly prepared for the coming winter. This week is a change, marked not by dates on the calendar but by the surrounding voice in creation showing us; the time has come.
I suspect there are many of us who are running towards something right now to see if we might experience just a touch of healing. My faith tells me that there are also many of us who carry the love, hope, and grace of Christ to share. Maybe our collective prayer today is simply that our paths allow us to connect, for healing to come, and for the love of Jesus to touch us again.
Lord, thank you for the many ways you offer us your love and healing touch. However we need to experience that today, help us to receive it. And if there is any way you have equipped us to share your healing with someone else, we trust you will allow our paths to connect just as it needs to be. Thank you for the grace we see in your creation’s beauty; thank you for the grace we experience in our ordinary lives.
Sing to the Lord a new song! Sing to the Lord, all the earth! Sing to the Lord! Bless his name! Share the news of his saving work every single day! Declare God’s glory among the nations; declare his wondrous works among all people because the Lord is great and so worthy of praise. He is awesome beyond all other gods because all the gods of the nations are just idols, but it is the Lord who created heaven! Greatness and grandeur are in front of him; strength and beauty are in his sanctuary. – Psalm 96:1-6
Does singing really matter? My grandfather had a habit of singing while he drove his old truck down country roads. Occasionally I had the unexpected pleasure of riding with him. I remember a song he made up and sang often: I know a little song Not too long Tulip! Tulip! That’s all gone!
He also talked about time with God while he was on the tractor, which was hours upon hours of his life. I suspect there were many songs that came from his lungs and mouth in that time.
The song we sing in faith is not about the quality of our voices or the melody that flows. It is what happens to our bodies and spirits when we lift out of our situations and circumstances and just sing. Try it. Make it up if you need to. If you were going to sing a song of God’s glory today, what would it be? What melody or words are within you of praise for God’s greatness right now?
God, I thank you for your peace that moves through our lives in all seasons. I praise you for the many ways you show us your creativity that is new every moment of the day and throughout the long night. I sing “Holy! Holy!” when no other words can say what you are stirring within me. We shout “Thank you! Hallelujah!” for your grace and mercy that is beyond our comprehension. We offer our praise and adoration today for your love that never stops reaching out and revealing itself among us. Help us to sing a new song today. Move into our moments of grief, celebration, play and work. Help us to sing of you! Amen.
When you need a little help getting that song going, God has blessed people with incredible gifts to assist. Enjoy!
Silence. Illusive. Revealing. Vulnerable. Real. I remember the silence in the house after my brothers death many years ago. It was deafening. We shuffled across the floor one moment at a time trying to figure out how to live. Just through the next hour. I was young. Life hurt. And it was so silent.
Recently at a Jesuit retreat house I enjoyed 48 hours of a silent retreat. The birds and scurrying of animals unseen offered sound. The wind blew through the trees and sang a melody every morning and again late at night. Occasionally I noticed the sound of my breath when I encountered something of beauty unexpected. It was restoring and offered much peace.
Surprisingly what lingers is the sound of dishes and silverware in the communal dining room. Sounds I have come to love. Signs of my neighbors (and mine) presence. Sounds of the basic need of food. The notes of music that say, “morning has come, let’s gather and eat, embrace the day.” Sacred.
Getting up from the table in my home I hear it again. Rinsing dishes. Dropping silverware in the sink. The clanging, tinkering, loud sound of life. I remember when that sound spoke of our grief and loneliness. There were many days we could not speak, the weight was too much. Today the clanging of dishes speaks of life. I couldn’t hear it until I stepped away and the silence revealed the blessing. A grace unexpected. A gift of silence redeemed.
May the peace of God bring blessing into the silent places of life. Providing, revealing, assisting, and offering to make something ordinary brand new.
This song was a favorite of my Aunt Bonnie and Uncle Tom. It was often a sound in our home – on the piano or the stereo. We never spoke about it except to know that after Uncle Tom’s death, it was a song we couldn’t play it in her presence.
Life in the Deep End 