The drive is the same. Nine years haven’t really changed the route other than the trees that line the interstate are much larger, hiding new developments along the way. Last week, I was driving this route again as I do every weekend. Yet, I chose to wait a few more hours, moving my leaving from Sunday evening to 5:30am on Monday morning. I knew when to leave. The birds told me with a full chorus of “Morning Has Broken”, preparing for the event that they knew would come! Each little one knew to begin their song just before daybreak.
I thought that I remembered every single detail of that June morning in 2001. I thought I remembered every color, every gold-lined cloud and the very moment when the sun appeared. I remembered it to be so overwhelming to me, so breath-taking that I pulled off of the interstate and cried … and I heard God say, “Write again. It has been too long. But this time write for me.” I thought that I remembered everything.
I realized that nine years had faded some colors, had swept away some of the gold-lined clouds from my memory, had kept me from being blinded by the beauty of sunrises. Last week, I drove into the sunrise. A light fog hovered on the tops of tall grass and gathered more densely around the rivers along the route. Each mile brought with it more beauty and more surprises, more teals and blues, more peaches and pinks in the sky. The clouds were again gold-lined. At the very place where I heard God speak to me nine years ago, the sun seemed to rise quickly and with spectacular beauty. I heard, “Remember, I am the same, then as now. Forever.”
June 18, 2001 was the day when I first heard God say “Write again.” Few know how loving that gift was to me. I had written since childhood and kept all of my writings. In the late 60’s, something changed. I took every piece of writing that I had saved and ripped them up. And I stopped writing. I had allowed anger to strip me of the one thing that I loved to do. I had shredded the one passion in my life and almost proudly replaced it with a wall of protection. No more writing … until God’s love for me said, “Enough. Write again and start with my beautiful sunrise.”
June 18, 2001 … a morning of overwhelming beauty … and overwhelming love. Last week, I had an hour’s drive on an early Monday morning. Nothing much has changed along the route except that my days have been filled with thanksgiving … and there is writing once again.
This week, I remember …
anna
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
"What Are You Doing Here?"
(Please read 1Kings 19:9, 11-13)
I don’t know why we do it, but we do. There are times when we crawl into our caves and stay for a while. Sometimes, it isn’t long enough for our eyes to grow accustomed to the dark. Other times, we spend the night there. And yes, there are those who make their cave a home. These are the caves of our uncertainties and doubts, of our frets and of our much-larger fears, and of our perceptions of inadequacies. These are the caves that we enter into when God seems to be silent. I don’t know why we do it, but we do – there are times when we choose the darkness of our caves over the light of God’s promises and presence.
We are never really at peace in the darkness. God will not leave us alone even though we might feel alone. If we truly listen, we will hear, “What are you doing here?” The question shoots straight into our dwelling places. The echoes seem to carry God’s question a bit deeper into our cave. Other words bounce off the walls of our self-imposed exile. “You know my promises for your life. You know that my strength will sustain you. You know my love for you is never-ending. You know I am forgiving. You know that I am with you always. So, what are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?” That is a good question. What am I doing here? When I find myself in a cave, all I can do is shrug my shoulders and say, “I know all of these things and yet, I have no good answer for you, Lord.”
Good question – no good answers – but GREAT NEWS. God asks us to come out of our self-imposed exile, out of our dark places and into the light. Not only that, God says “Let me help you focus again. Come to the top of the mountain. Stand out in the open. Be in my very presence. See my vision for your life from a most perfect vantage point. No obstructions. No caves.” Then comes the gentle whisper, “Abide in me, not in your cave. Trust in me.”
Holy God … Our fears and hesitations drive us into caves. Forgive us when we make a home there. Thank you for meeting us in our exile and darkness, for asking us a tough question and for loving us so much as to tell us not only to come out of our hiding place but to stand on the mountaintop in your holy presence. Your whispers to us are beacons of hope and light to lead us out again. O God, you have brought us out for ministry and service. You know that our renewal is strengthened by a freshness that can only be found in you. We give you praise this morning for your whispers to us. Amen.
anna
I don’t know why we do it, but we do. There are times when we crawl into our caves and stay for a while. Sometimes, it isn’t long enough for our eyes to grow accustomed to the dark. Other times, we spend the night there. And yes, there are those who make their cave a home. These are the caves of our uncertainties and doubts, of our frets and of our much-larger fears, and of our perceptions of inadequacies. These are the caves that we enter into when God seems to be silent. I don’t know why we do it, but we do – there are times when we choose the darkness of our caves over the light of God’s promises and presence.
We are never really at peace in the darkness. God will not leave us alone even though we might feel alone. If we truly listen, we will hear, “What are you doing here?” The question shoots straight into our dwelling places. The echoes seem to carry God’s question a bit deeper into our cave. Other words bounce off the walls of our self-imposed exile. “You know my promises for your life. You know that my strength will sustain you. You know my love for you is never-ending. You know I am forgiving. You know that I am with you always. So, what are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?” That is a good question. What am I doing here? When I find myself in a cave, all I can do is shrug my shoulders and say, “I know all of these things and yet, I have no good answer for you, Lord.”
Good question – no good answers – but GREAT NEWS. God asks us to come out of our self-imposed exile, out of our dark places and into the light. Not only that, God says “Let me help you focus again. Come to the top of the mountain. Stand out in the open. Be in my very presence. See my vision for your life from a most perfect vantage point. No obstructions. No caves.” Then comes the gentle whisper, “Abide in me, not in your cave. Trust in me.”
Holy God … Our fears and hesitations drive us into caves. Forgive us when we make a home there. Thank you for meeting us in our exile and darkness, for asking us a tough question and for loving us so much as to tell us not only to come out of our hiding place but to stand on the mountaintop in your holy presence. Your whispers to us are beacons of hope and light to lead us out again. O God, you have brought us out for ministry and service. You know that our renewal is strengthened by a freshness that can only be found in you. We give you praise this morning for your whispers to us. Amen.
anna
Sunday, June 13, 2010
"I Have Something to Say to You"
(Please read Luke 7:36 – 8:3 with all of your senses!)
Lectionary Scriptures OT 11-C
If ever there were Scriptures that needed to be read aloud and experienced with all senses, these Scriptures would be the ones! Don’t be embarrassed. Read the words with expression. Listen to the under-the-breath murmurs. Smell the aroma of food on the table and the fragrance of ointment from the jar. Feel the wetness of tears. See Jesus' feet being washed by tears and dried by hair. Pay particular attention to the body language. Feast on the Scriptures with all that is within you! Jesus is saying, “I have something to say to you.”
A Pharisee named Simon has invited friends and acquaintances for a meal. Surely there is a bit of pride to be seen on his face. After all, this man named Jesus, who was creating such a "buzz" in the area, has accepted his dinner invitation. Notice that Simon murmurs to himself at the sight of a woman, the uninvited, the sinner entering his home. The words that first leap off the page are the words of Jesus. “I have something to say to you". Surely Jesus has something to say to Simon ... and to this woman ... and to us. Jesus asks Simon a question and he answers it correctly, as any of us might have answered it. Perhaps he gives a sideways glance to his other guests when he does. Did I see smugness in Simon’s glance? Then Jesus turns the answer into words that a Pharisee doesn’t really want to hear, yet these are words that the woman needs to hear. Could she possibly have heard the word "forgiven"? Notice that after Simon answers Jesus' question, Jesus turns toward the woman, yet speaks to Simon. What body language! He speaks of all of the ways that Simon fails to show hospitality toward him and of the ways by which this woman, the "sinner", fills in the gaps for what Simon has neglected to do. Jesus’ feet are washed and dried not with water and cloth provided by the host but by tears and hair offered by the woman. The servant of the household brings no ointment for him, but the sinner in the room carries a jar of perfumed ointment solely for Jesus. Worship permeates the room.
Hear the quiet sobs. See the tears. There are many reasons for tears in this world -grief, joy, fear, pain and hope. Jesus mentions that this woman's sins (which were many) had been forgiven. Had Jesus already told her this, before she washed his feet with her tears and dried them with her hair? I wonder if her tears were the tears not of one whose face was still in the dirt of life, but the tears of one who had already heard the word "forgiven”. It seems that these were the tears of joy and hope and worship.
Jesus then has something else to say. “Your faith has saved you. Go in Peace." This is the “something” that the woman hears. The others hear words that tell them that things are no longer the same. It is not theirs to judge; it is Jesus’ to proclaim forgiveness. (Did I hear someone choke on their food at Simon’s table?).
Gracious God … You give us so much to think about. With words such as these, we can’t help but feast on your Word, feel the wet tears, hear Jesus speak to one then turn to look in another’s eyes, see hope make way for worship, even smell the aroma of forgiveness. Jesus is speaking to us, isn’t he? Forgive us when we are smug and proud; when we judge others and want little or no part of forgiveness for others. Give us the desire to welcome all to the Table. May we have the heart of Jesus so that we too might say to others, “I have something to say to you …” Amen
anna
Lectionary Scriptures OT 11-C
If ever there were Scriptures that needed to be read aloud and experienced with all senses, these Scriptures would be the ones! Don’t be embarrassed. Read the words with expression. Listen to the under-the-breath murmurs. Smell the aroma of food on the table and the fragrance of ointment from the jar. Feel the wetness of tears. See Jesus' feet being washed by tears and dried by hair. Pay particular attention to the body language. Feast on the Scriptures with all that is within you! Jesus is saying, “I have something to say to you.”
A Pharisee named Simon has invited friends and acquaintances for a meal. Surely there is a bit of pride to be seen on his face. After all, this man named Jesus, who was creating such a "buzz" in the area, has accepted his dinner invitation. Notice that Simon murmurs to himself at the sight of a woman, the uninvited, the sinner entering his home. The words that first leap off the page are the words of Jesus. “I have something to say to you". Surely Jesus has something to say to Simon ... and to this woman ... and to us. Jesus asks Simon a question and he answers it correctly, as any of us might have answered it. Perhaps he gives a sideways glance to his other guests when he does. Did I see smugness in Simon’s glance? Then Jesus turns the answer into words that a Pharisee doesn’t really want to hear, yet these are words that the woman needs to hear. Could she possibly have heard the word "forgiven"? Notice that after Simon answers Jesus' question, Jesus turns toward the woman, yet speaks to Simon. What body language! He speaks of all of the ways that Simon fails to show hospitality toward him and of the ways by which this woman, the "sinner", fills in the gaps for what Simon has neglected to do. Jesus’ feet are washed and dried not with water and cloth provided by the host but by tears and hair offered by the woman. The servant of the household brings no ointment for him, but the sinner in the room carries a jar of perfumed ointment solely for Jesus. Worship permeates the room.
Hear the quiet sobs. See the tears. There are many reasons for tears in this world -grief, joy, fear, pain and hope. Jesus mentions that this woman's sins (which were many) had been forgiven. Had Jesus already told her this, before she washed his feet with her tears and dried them with her hair? I wonder if her tears were the tears not of one whose face was still in the dirt of life, but the tears of one who had already heard the word "forgiven”. It seems that these were the tears of joy and hope and worship.
Jesus then has something else to say. “Your faith has saved you. Go in Peace." This is the “something” that the woman hears. The others hear words that tell them that things are no longer the same. It is not theirs to judge; it is Jesus’ to proclaim forgiveness. (Did I hear someone choke on their food at Simon’s table?).
Gracious God … You give us so much to think about. With words such as these, we can’t help but feast on your Word, feel the wet tears, hear Jesus speak to one then turn to look in another’s eyes, see hope make way for worship, even smell the aroma of forgiveness. Jesus is speaking to us, isn’t he? Forgive us when we are smug and proud; when we judge others and want little or no part of forgiveness for others. Give us the desire to welcome all to the Table. May we have the heart of Jesus so that we too might say to others, “I have something to say to you …” Amen
anna
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