"Just When ... "

(Please read Exodus 3:1-15)
  
Just when the young
have their hectic schedules
finalized on their calendars …

Just when baby boomers
have their lives
carefully mapped out …

Just when retirees
think that they have
indeed retired …

Just when our lives
become routine and settled …
and just when we think
that we will never
hear the voice of God,
IT HAPPENS.

Yes, just when we begin to believe
that we are who we are
and are who we will always be,
God calls our name,
not once, but twice …
commanding attention
as one might do
to a child who hasn’t listened.

Just when we put on
our well-worn bedroom slippers again,
comfortable and familiar,
we hear
“Take off your slippers.
You are standing on holy ground!”

Just when you call our names,
O Great I AM,
and as we lean upon you
to remove our slippers,
forgive our initial fears and excuses;
forgive us if the first words
from our mouths are
“B-b- but  G-G-God …
I haven’t had a pedicure yet!”

Just when our names spoken
still echo in our hearts …
just when our feet are bared,
and our favorite slippers
are tossed aside,
may our prayers be
that when called,
each of us might say,
“Here I am.”
 

"The Question"

(personal ponderings on Matthew 16:13-20)

There are those days
when my head is lowered
in the “I should haves’
or  “I could haves” but “didn’ts”.
In those days, my eyes are downcast.
He is looking directly at me.
I don’t need to look his way …
I sense in his voice, disappointment.
I can hear an occasional sigh.
Yet, his eyes don’t turn away from me.
He has seen my stumbling.
He has heard words carelessly pour out of my mouth
and he has heard my deafening silence of omission.
And yet, if I would only look up
I could see his love for me,
even as he shakes his head and whispers,
“So like Peter.  So, so like Peter.”

There are those days
when Jesus once more looks directly at me …
into my eyes.
He gently lifts my lowered head and asks,
“But what about you?  Who do you say that I am?”
All movement around me comes to a standstill.
The others near me freeze into place for a moment.
I can hear my own breathing
and even though I could turn my eyes away,
I don’t.

Others around me vie for his attention.
Hands shoot up as if they are children in a classroom.
“Pick me!  Oh, pick me!  I know the answer,” they shout.
Some are guesses … “A prophet!  Elijah!
John the Baptist!  Jeremiah!”
The others speak in words that are different from my own …
words that seem memorized,
pouring from the head and not from the heart.

There are those days
when I am asked THE QUESTION.
He waits for no answer other than mine.
In words that I barely recognize, I answer,
"You are the Messiah!  You are my LORD."
The words spill out from the seeking place in my heart.
Spilling out from his heart are words as well.
“Blessed are you.   These words did not come
from those who have memorized them
or from those who have borrowed words from others;
you have heard this from my Father!"

There are those days … actually each and every day,
when the implications of this answered question
cannot be ignored.
I have called him ‘Messiah’;
I have called him LORD;
He has called me ‘Disciple’
and placed me on a new path
paved with Solid Rock.