Prayer for Pastors during Advent

God-of-Our-Advent-Waiting ...
What a time this is for our pastors. Be with each of them as they walk through these days of Advent with those whom you have placed into their care. Give them strength to help others wait for, long for and anticipate the peace, hope, joy and love that only the arrival of Jesus into each heart and into our world can bring. Place within these pastors a sweet longing and anticipation in their own Advent waiting. Open the hearts of all so that they might hear your promises spoken through the words of your prophets of old and your servants now. Open the eyes of all souls so that they might see the Light in the darkness that grows ever-stronger as the days draw nearer to your Promise-On-Earth.

Forgive us all if we find it easier to passively await the coming of your Son. In the waiting, may your disciples lead others to place the longings of their hearts before you in prayer; may they help others prepare a place for Jesus to be born anew and may they pray that they also will make ready for such an arrival.

My childhood memories beg me to pray for something else for your servants. During the coming days, place within each of them the excitement of a child; the excitement that causes eyes to sparkle and songs to be hummed in the middle of their busiest of days; the excitement that fills each one of them with hope in your Gift to come; the excitement that brings with it a portion of sleepless anticipation.

These are your servants for sure. You have placed a call within them to love others and to share your great Love in ways that are, at times, much different than our own ways and for that I am most thankful. Love them as they love others, O God. Lead them as they lead others.   AMEN.

Hint of the Holy

I found myself outside on the balcony at the beach at 6:30am yesterday morning to watch it all unfold. The whole process lasted almost an hour, from the first faint promise of light to the glorious sunrise. There was a lone man walking in the opposite direction from the sunrise. I wanted to scream from my balcony, "TURN AROUND ... DON'T MISS THIS!" I didn't ... and he missed it.

I shared this with someone and he said, "This perspective, this sunrise, is meant for you only. It is a gift for you."

I thought that sunrises are all the same, certainly equally spectacular, perfectly timed as only God can do. But this morning, unlike yesterday

morning, those few who were walking on the beach in the cold morning air stopped and turned to watch it unfold. A small boat moving in the opposite direction turned toward the sunrise as well. And then, instead of the sunrise that I saw yesterday, there were hints of brilliance outlining the clouds and peaking through the clouds. This is surely what God does every single day, isn't it? Peaking through and into our lives, hinting at the brilliance of Holy Presence. How beautiful a thought that this happens every day, at some point in our day and in some way in our lives. So, this morning, I'm sharing the 'hint of the Holy' as a reminder to stop and turn, to look around, to see God's Presence in the most unexpected moments of our lives.

Perhaps my friend's words were right on target. How can we tell another person to stop, turn, look around, seek and receive if we first haven't received the gift of the hint of the Holy ... if we first haven't done the very same thing?

 

"Through the Eyes of Faith"

 Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.  (Hebrews 11:1)

(The words of Helen Keller)
I, who cannot see, find hundreds of things to interest me through mere touch. I feel the delicate symmetry of a leaf. I pass my hands lovingly about the smooth skin of a silver birch, or the rough shaggy bark of a pine.... I feel the delightful, velvety texture of a flower, and discover its remarkable convolutions; and something of the miracle of Nature is revealed to me.

Occasionally, if I am very fortunate, I place my hand gently on a small tree and feel the happy quiver of a bird in full song.... At times my heart cries out with longing to see these things. If I can get so much pleasure from mere touch, how much more beauty must be revealed by sight.

Yet, those who have eyes apparently see little. The panorama of color and action which fills the world is taken for granted.... It is a great pity that, in the world of light, the gift of sight is used only as a mere convenience rather than as a means of adding fullness to life.

(Now words from me)

It is the promise of Fall that the foliage will change from greens to golds and reds and oranges. I have heard that the colors are beautiful in the higher elevations of North Carolina, but on my hour's drive yesterday heading in the direction of the mountains, I saw only greens. Yet, I know that there is such breath-taking beauty there even without seeing it ... and I know that soon the greens in my world will change to golds and reds and oranges as well. I know this to be true because the Creator of all promises this to me each and every Fall season.

"See" with everything that is within you, friends ... even (and especially) through the eyes of faith!

 
Blessings ... anna

"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 ...
just 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.”

"In Remembrance of Crumbs"

(Please read Matthew 15:21-28)

“In remembrance”,
the young minister said
as he pointed to a prepared table.
Whispers could be heard.
“Christ’s body … Christ’s blood”.
Over and over again -
“Christ’s body … Christ’s blood”.
The words ended only
when all had been fed.

The crumbs of the ripped-apart loaves
had fallen at his feet.
When all had been served,
the minister,
a guest in the church,
bent down to pick up one crumb.
“Tidy”, I thought.
“He is so tidy.”

The service soon ended.
While all others were shaking hands
and discussing where to meet
for Sunday lunch,
the minister,
this guest in our ‘house’,
fell to his hands and knees
and began to pick up crumbs.
One at a time ... crumb after crumb …
finally brushing them
with one hand
into a small pile of crumbs.

I whispered to him,
"You shouldn’t do that.
I will clean the crumbs
from the carpet.”
He looked at me,
still on his hands and knees,
and said …
“I have been made worthy
to receive these crumbs.
I do this in remembrance.”

And then with a smile, he whispered,
“Would you care to join me?”
And so, that morning
I found myself on my knees,
picking up crumbs,
brushing them into a small pile.
This, too, I did ‘in remembrance’
of the day that Grace filled me,
(yes, even me)
with a holy nourishment.

"Let anyone with ears, listen ... "

(Please read Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23)

Listen!

God-whispers are flying through the air

as if seeds carried in the beaks

of birds ...

ready to be dropped
wherever they might be dropped.

God-Love is bouncing all around
as if millions of tiny steel pellets
have been loosed from barrels
of confinement ...
rolling and bouncing haphazardly
into the most unlikely of places.

God-Hope is being flung into the air
like seeds from a careless sower
without concern for waste ...
with no plowed ground
or fertilized field in sight.

Listen!

The Sower has plunged a hand
into a sack of promise again ...
throwing seed everywhere.
Can't you hear it?
They bounce off of the rocks
and sink deep into the wet sand.
They are buried in the crevices
of dry, cracked earth
and some find home
in warm, rich soil.

The Sower slings the seed
without regard to soils
or rocks or thorns or drought.
The words "too lavish, how wasteful"
are whispered by naysayers
and those who want
perfectly-prepared soil
before joining in
with the seed-sowing.

The Sower sighs and bends down
to admire the delicate violet
growing from a crack in the cement.
The hand reaches into the sack of
seed and brings out so much
that the hopes and promises spill
and puddle onto the ground.

"Listen", the Sower says.
"Let anyone with ears, listen ...
Be lavish and extravagant
and even what seems a bit
wasteful to some"
(as more seed is hurled into the air).

This Sower walks away,
his path marked by a trail of seeds,
by orchards of fruit-bearing trees
and by violets growing
from cracks in cement.

Let anyone with ears, listen ….

"In the presence of my enemies ..."

(Please read Psalm 23)

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.

It was when you asked me to help,
O God, that I truly understood ...
or at least understood
in the way that you asked me
to understand.

You handed a chalice to me
from the table you prepared
and whispered, "For all."
I gulped. "Oh God... really?
For all?"

You whispered again,
"Look into their eyes,
offer to them what I have prepared,
Some might be your enemies,
but none are mine."

And so I stood,
at the end of an aisle,
with chalice in hand
and wept at the thoughts
of my enemies welcomed
in such a generous way.

The table was not mine,
the guest list certainly wasn't mine
and the chalice never ran dry ...
nor did the grace and mercy.

Once again, I heard,
"Do this in remembrance ...
and remember,
these are not my enemies."

You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies,
and then you say "All sit ... together."
And still the chalice never runs dry
for those around the table -
      not even for me.