A Little Rainbow Moment

I came home yesterday with a headache. I was grumpy, irritable, and in a funk. I had been pushed and pulled at work every which way and I am not very agile, so it was uncomfortable to say the least. There were ten different jobs that needed to be done "right now" and so the ten other jobs that were on the plate, didn't get done because of the hurry-up-and-do-now things. Very unsatisfying. Now in the backyard of our house there is a small patch of what most people would call weeds. I know better. They are milkweed plants and I put them there specifically for Monarch butterflies to find in their journey north. One year and one year only, there were a lot of them. Lots of caterpillars, lots of chrysalis' too. But since then, nothing. I've seen a monarch skip by occasionally, but they obviously didn't think my small patch worthy or big enough or whatever butterflies think and ignored my meager efforts. And so I came home sad, tired, angry at the world and its circumstances and sat in the car for a few minutes staring at nothing wishing that I could have stayed in bed with the covers pulled over my head. And then I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. I am not a butterfly specialist so I don't know the difference between a Monarch or a Viceroy butterfly--so I really am not sure, even now what I was seeing. They have very similar markings. But there as I finally focused on what was there on the periphery were two butterflies swooping and dancing among the milkweed. They looked like Monarchs. They flitted and flirted with the leaves (the blossoms are gone by now) stopping for a few second here and there. I have no idea if they laid eggs on the leaves (which are their favorite food). But, oh, suddenly the day wasn't such a waste of breath. Suddenly, I knew there was someone who was paying attention to my little patch of hopefulness. I stood outside the car and watched them skip and prance among the greenery and I looked heavenward and said, "Oh, Lord, thank you so much for butterflies." It's too early to tell if there will be caterpillars. But it's never to late to say thank you to the Creator for the blessings of a day which seemed like one long endless no but which ended with a blessed yes.

Is My Faith Real?

I got to pondering this question the other day. Is my faith real? There are so many things that are tangible in our lives these days. Anything from the miraculous phone which accompanies me everywhere through the day to the simply stunning microwave that defrosts something for dinner. Petting the cat, hugging the hubby, flopping (very much unlike a lady) on the couch after a busy day and resting my chin on my chest. These are really things I can feel all around me and that I do. Shouldn't my faith be just as tangible? If what Jesus died to do was making your love of the Lord something you experience in a major life-affirming way, then your faith, your belief, your love should be just as concrete as your snoring. We look at faith so much of the time as something ethereal or out there (waving our hands in the air). Our faith seems to be something we air out on Sundays or Saturdays or whatever day we take it in our heads to unpack it and wave it around like the hand motions just mentioned. But being a believer means something more dramatic I think. Really, truly believing means making the "love your neighbor" thing what you do as a part of your day, not a part of your philosophy that you pick up once in a while. Following Christ means making the physical act of "loving your neighbor" or "love the Lord with all your soul" not a practice or a hobby, but a natural extension of yourself, like smiling at strangers or blinking. I haven't been able to do this myself, yet. It's a noble thing. A worth trying to do thing. I'm still too conscious of my actions to be able to say I do with this any consistency. But, sometimes, I do. When I'm not thinking about it, my faith creeps out of my pores and shows people who I really am, what I really believe, who my Lord really is! Its a really uplifting and special occasion when that happens. I feel blessed. And I'm looking for ways to trigger that more often. So yes, my faith is real, but it just doesn't show itself all the time. But I'm working on it!

I Did Not Go To Church Today

Said little Peggy Ann McKay (apologies to Shel Silverstein's poetry). I wasn't sick or tired or even sick and tired. I was up very early taking the daughter and fiance to the airport on the first leg of their visit to our son. We got back in enough time for me to have run around like a chicken with no head and get myself to church. But I didn't do it. Lazy? Maybe. But as my spouse and I sat eating breakfast, reading the paper and listening to NPR it felt like the right thing to do. Church is the right thing for me to do on Sunday mornings most of the time. I like going, seeing my family in Christ. I miss them when I don't see them for a week. I ponder my actions of the week before while I'm there. I listen a little more earnestly to my fellow humans. I find out is someone is suddenly sick, or has passed away. My church life is an infusion each week for my battered and weary soul. A balm. It's those other weeks though. When I have had some serious misgivings or some face slapping revelation that I sit back or in many cases after the alarm goes off, lie down without attending. I have been admonished that this is precisely the time I need to go and hear the word of God. And maybe they are right, those admonishers! But there are times when I have to digest the word, not just swallow it whole. When I have to think on the things which have brought me to a stand still. When I have to rely on the still, small voice, echoing in my head and not the voice in the pew or the pulpit even to make sense of my faith. And when that happens, it feels more holy to stay home and ponder, read the bible or other inspirational tomes, to pray more earnestly or even to just sit in silence as God is aware what's going on in my head anyway. Am I suggesting that going to church isn't necessary? No. The community of Christ is what leads me to a fuller and richer communication with God. They help me to understand the depth and breadth of God's love and mercy. But I don't feel like I have to explain myself if I don't go. And really, I think God gets it. So I will see you next week, I hope. Unless you need some time off. In which case I will see you soon. Take care until then.

Touching His Robe

We travel through life from one day to the next sometimes without even being aware of what goes on around us. Every time I get caught in the headlights on the "road of life" and see something really amazing, it catches me by surprise. One of the custodians at the school where I work showed me an amazing picture of his granddaughter's spine which had recently been operated on. The before and after were nothing short of miraculous. The fact that within a week she will be out of the hospital and walking around boggles my mind. I received a photo on my phone of the latest addition to our family, a little girl so small but delicately formed, it takes your breath away. The bright pink of the hydrangea outside of the walkway into the school is an unheard of shade that arrests your eye no matter what else may be on your mind. The tiny little bunny nibbling clover on the front lawn, shivering and hoping the huge giant of a person (me) won't notice them as they cower among the blossoms. The fact that I can sit here and type these words and they will be out on the Internet in just a few short moments. Oh, Lord, how marvelous are they works! I have an alarm set on my phone to remind me every day to pray at a certain time. My prayer partner and I have tried to keep this practice as I am notorious for neglecting my prayer life unless prompted regularly. And today when it went off, I remembered to thank God for life, for love of family and friends and for the beautiful world we inhabit. What can you thank God for today? What have you witnessed recently that has reminded you that God is with us? Think on that, just for a few moments. God's blessings abound.

Clothed in Christ

I work in a high school. And there are certain things that happen every year that are pretty universal in all high schools. This weekend, the prom is what is on all the kids' minds. Whether they are attending or not. I hear them in the hallways, "what are you wearing? what will you do with your hair?" They talk excitedly and with more animation than normal (and that's saying something, they are teenagers after all!). I looked at the daily devotional reading from Corinthians today and thought about clothes and what they mean, how we think about them. But I also thought of a bunch of other things related to wearing garments. For instance, when I was growing up, there was a saying, "the clothes make the man." It had something to do with dressing up nice and thereby being nice. Like a good fitting suit, you would be good inside and out. Of course, we know that this statement isn't really true. But I remember it was imparted as wisdom when I was a kid. My mother made it a point to dress up to go to church. It was unheard of going in your "play clothes". I carried this tradition on with my children and they grumbled about it week after week, in probably the same whiny tones I used. People today don't feel they have to dress up to go to church. "God doesn't care what I look like on the outside" is what I hear most often. And the God I have come to know and love probably doesn't care, but I still wear nice clothes to church on Sunday anyway. I don't dress up very often for anything these days so Sundays feel special when I make the effort. A guy I knew became a Mormon and he kept his "grave clothes" with him at all times. When he died suddenly of a heart attack, people felt weird about the fact that the white robe he had in his closet was all ready for him to wear. I don't know, I think it's very forward thinking to be ready for anything at any time. I'm not sure I have to wear something special mind you, but I get the idea. But all this talk about physically wearing clothes is not the point of the reading today (2 Corinthians 5:1-5). I think it has more to do with the putting on of the right attitude. Looking forward to the heavenly home we have instead of decking ourselves out in our finest suits and jewels. There is a yearning sometimes I feel when I think about being in the company of heaven, knowing that because God loves me, it won't matter whether my robes are white or even if I color my hair. What matters is that God will see the real me (warts and all!). God will welcome me because I am an heir, a daughter. I get tired trying to be something I'm not here on earth. Trying hard to fit in, or be like others. And there are wearying days when that time can't come fast enough. Now I'm not looking to do myself in, but the striving I feel some days makes me wish that heaven were here instead of in the future. So I guess I will continue to dress up in my "Sunday best" Sunday mornings. Not because I want to impress anybody, least of all God. But because I like to do it. I hope to see you there in your Sunday Smiles as well. I'll be wearing mine right along side of you, clothed in the God who loves us. I don't think I could buy a better outfit!

Being Whole

I was reading a devotional today and it talked about the man that Jesus healed of a speech impediment and deafness. He took him aside and healed him and then told the healed guy not to tell anyone. But of course the healed man went around telling everyone. Wouldn't you? Wouldn't you, if you were made whole, run around telling EVERYONE about it? It's better than winning the lottery! To be made whole. I've often wanted to be made whole. There are times when I curse my hearing loss and times when I feel justified in feeling sorry for myself. The funny thing is, I don't talk too much about it. I don't write about it much. I'm not really looking for sympathy, I don't think. But healing would be nice. To be able to hear the birds again outside the window? Yeah, that'd be really great. To know when someone was walking up in back of me instead of jumping 10 feet in the air as they innocuously pass me? That would be great, too! To be able to hear the television without the closed captioning would be nice for my family as well as me. And to hear my family's voices without the machines plugged into my ears would be worth just about anything. I remember Paul asking in one of his letters to have some kind of burden removed. I think there is speculation about what that burden might have been. But even Paul in his splendor didn't get to have his wish. For whatever the thorn in his side, it was always there. Just like not being able to hear. Most times I'm used to the lack of hearing. My hearing aids do help enormously. Most times I'm immune to the fact that there is a distinct lack of noise when I take them out at night. But once in a while, I think, why me? Why do I have to have this disability? Is there something I'm supposed to learn from this? Something I'm supposed to "teach" other people? I hope not. I've been dismal if this is my ministry. I prefer to do those things that are in the background or things that don't need much interaction for fear I wouldn't hear the interaction anyway. I do not like to trumpet that I can' hear and don't want to be the "poster girl" for those who are hearing impaired. And then there's this: when I pray and ask God to watch over those I love and care about, I don't really ask to be made whole. It's tempting. Asking for that miracle cure. But I have a feeling I'm supposed to be like this for whatever reason. And I guess when I finally get to meet God, I can ask, "what was that all about anyway?" But the funny thing is this, when I pray it doesn't matter whether I can hear or not. It's usually quiet, and sometimes I talk the hearing devices out of my ears so it's even quieter than normal. Because really in the silence of my prayers it doesn't matter whether I can hear or not, just so long as God does.

Christianity with a big "C"

We were having a discussion on Sunday in our Sunday School group about introverts, extroverts and the combination of those two things. It was observed that if all someone hears are the extroverts, then those who are the "strong, silent type" whose ideas are innovative and well reasoned will never be heard over the din. The conversation was winding around this way and that, when someone said the one thing that was guaranteed to make me get mad. They didn't say it to make me mad, I doubt they were even aware it was a "hot button" for me. But I've heard it most of my life now and it never ceases to really aggravate me. The statement was that young people say there are so many hypocrites in church nowadays they just don't see the reason to come to church. And there it is. That statement. Spoken with authority from whomever utters it. As though it was the gospel. There are so many hypocrites in church. I would like to spell it out for those who think this way. You're absolutely right! There are pews full of them. There are entire congregations full to the hilt of hypocrites! And you wanna know something else? No one is surprised by this. Except perhaps those who aren't attending church. You see it's like this. If Christians were all so perfect, so holy, so above reproach, they wouldn't have needed a savior. Jesus would not have been necessary. In fact, God could probably have gone away on a vacation to outer Andromeda and come back and not even noticed a difference! I would like those who make this statement to find one institution of man's making (or woman's making for that matter) that doesn't have hypocrites in it. Name one. Just one. Any one. Yeah, that's what I thought. See there isn't any. There can't be. Because man, woman, humans are made imperfect. They aren't going to be holier than thou, because thou is just as unholy as the next guy. No one is holier than thou except Jesus. No one. The world is made up of hypocrites and sinners. Everyone alike. Some have their sins laid bare for everyone to see, some hide them and appear to be pure as the driven snow. But no one is perfect. Everyone needs saving. From themselves. Which is why many of us are in church to begin with. We recognize that we are not perfect. We recognize the need for saving. We really, really want to be better people. But despite all the greatest of intentions we do stupid things. We are mean and petty. We are inconsiderate. We are selfish. But we are almost always contrite afterwards. But we do these things anyway. And we come back each week to the one place where we can ask for love and forgiveness to go out and try again the next week. I saw a bumper sticker which says, "Christians aren't perfect, we're just forgiven." There's a certain smack of smugness in that that I don't really like, but it reminds me that each week when I come back to church with my head hung low to my chest in embarrassment and remorse, God has already forgiven me. Grace has allowed me to come into the presence of the Almighty and be made clean once more. So yes, young people, old people, non-church goers alike, we are a hypocritical, complaining, whiny bunch. Prone to sometimes judge quickly; we give the impression that we have the right to judge. No one of course, has that right, but we do it anyway. Is your workplace any different? Your school? Did you think that church was made up of someones other than those same people? We are the same people in your businesses, your schools, standing in line at the grocery store right along side of you. We get annoyed with people who are taking too long in line, people who cut in place in traffic, we even sometimes use bad language when we're mad about something. And yes, we get mad, and sarcastic, and grumpy. We are the same as you. Are you saying that because we're part of the church we cannot be human? I hope not. Our humanity is what we share in those pews. We are a community in Christ, a loving group nonetheless because how can we be anything other? When we have the best example of love before us; Jesus? Instead of complaining about our hypocritical ways, come and see us for the way we really are. We are the body of Christ on earth, trying to find our way to the heaven that awaits. And sometimes we're cranky that it's taken so long to get there, but the journey with the people of our congregation is a mostly loving one. Even with a few whiners in the back.