An Epiphany

 

A few months ago, our neighbors across the street and down a house sold their home to a family who moved in late in the summer.  The family is an ethnic minority family complete with kids, dogs, and lots of relatives and friends.  They have done a lot to improve the place, putting in a new fence for the dog in the back yard as well as other improvements both inside and out.  When I went over to introduce myself after they got settled in, I discovered that they spoke very little English, and I was reduced to gesturing as well as speaking as best I could, given my total lack of knowledge or fluency in the Spanish language.  We were on good terms, and I think we both did the best we could to introduce ourselves.

Shortly after they moved in and got settled, we started hearing them gathering in the garage, playing music rather loudly for several hours...so loudly that the bass part penetrated walls and doors.  They had several of their friends or relatives over during these times...usually on Saturday nights...and had a good time until they wrapped it up about 10:30 pm.

The dog is one of those who barks at leaves dropping from the trees as well as if we went to the mailbox to get the mail, opened our garage door, or just ventured outside for something.  He got other dogs in the neighborhood to start barking as well, and it became a chorus of barking.

For our normally quiet neighborhood, this was a rather big change for us.  We aren't used to barking dogs and booming bass coming from a garage.  I began to resent the weekly parties, and wondered if there was anything I could do to quiet the dog.  Fall came...then the holidays...and nothing seemed to change.  Our house walls seemed to not do much to quell the noise of the bass part of the music.  But they did usually stop it around bed time, for which I was thankful.

Over the weeks and few months, we would wave at each other if the opportunity arose, but that was the extent of our interaction.  The language barrier was one of the problems.  The culture barrier was another.  The music and dog issues were a third.

A few days ago, about mid afternoon,I noticed that the neighbor right next to me...not the people I've been talking about, but rather the elderly neighbor right next door...had to call the ambulance.  One of this man’s relatives showed up, went inside, then came back outside in the front yard for a cigarette break.  I knew him somewhat, so went over to ask what was going on, as we try to make sure the older gentleman is OK as best we can.  He also has caregivers that work with him so he isn’t alone.  As the older gentleman’s relative and I were talking, we also talked about the party was going on across the street.  The Hispanic neighbors had the grill out and were cooking something.  They had a table out with chairs, plates and other food and were preparing for some kind of a meal, along with the ever-present music.

The next door relative I was talking with mentioned that the noise from the music was bothering his father-in-law…the elderly man…so much that he no longer wore his hearing aids in order to help quell the noise.  The relative and I also discussed the food and party-ing that goes on pretty much weekly...talking in rather negative terms.  As I started to leave that conversation with the older man’s relative, I had an epiphany.  I decided to go across the street and ask about the food they were cooking.

So, walking toward the house, when I got their attention, I made an eating motion.  Someone met me who spoke English, and I asked what they were cooking.  They showed me brats, hush puppies, and other stuff that I wasn't sure what it was.  They asked if I wanted to stay and eat, and got a chair for me along with a bottle of beer.

I refused the chair and beer, but mentioned the brats and hushpuppies...the only two things that I recognized.  They put a few of each on a paper plate, gave it to me, and asked me again to stay.  Saying I was taking the food to my wife, which technically was true, I thanked them profusely and went back home.  Before I left, though, I picked up a brat and took a bite…it was indeed wonderful, and I said so.

Once home with the brats, I decided to reciprocate.  I loaded up some homemade sugar cookies and a slab of homemade fudge and took it over to them.  Their kids immediately gravitated to the sweets, and I came back home to help get ready for our company coming later on.

About 2 hours later, the doorbell rang.  Pat answered.  It was two of the women from the house across the street.  They had what we believe was leftovers...but good leftovers...a couple of those things I didn't know what was when I was there earlier.  Turns out it was seafood fixed Mexican style.

OK, I tell you this story to say this.  Following my interaction with the neighbors who had the loud bass, it was amazing that I no longer was resentful of their music or their party.  In fact, it's almost 10:30 pm right now as I write this, and I can hear the bass from our basement.  My demeanor has changed completely toward these people...just with the interactions we had today with the exchange of food.  No longer am I resentful of their music.  The barking dog...well, that remains to be seen.  I think the dog barks because he is generally ignored most of the time.  Hopefully, that will eventually change.

This may well be a prime example of how relationship…even relatively superficial relationship, can change one’s opinion of another and foster a more, shall we say, peaceful way of life.  What I did was nothing special.  But it was an acknowledgement of a way of life that I wasn’t familiar with, and the expression of a desire to be civil and cordial.

Now, if I can only expand that “civil and cordial” thing to other areas of life and livin where people tend to grate on me in unpleasant ways or have habits or ways of life I’m not familiar with, maybe…just maybe I can remove some of the stress, hard feelings, and anger from my life.  And it may take nothing more than an “epiphany” to reach out in some way.  Besides, I may just score some good food while I’m at it.

 

Blessings.

There's a lesson here, and I think it's fairly obvious what it is.  Relationships...even the beginning of relationships...make a difference in how we see and think about others.  Until I went over today to ask about the food, we had no relationship.  Now we at least are on speaking terms, and we know that the other is friendly and open for interaction.  The resentment is gone.  Hopefully, we will be able to live together in this neighborhood for many years to come, continuing to foster the relationship between neighbors and cultures.

Hope Has Begun

 In January, I’ll begin teaching an adult Sunday School class on the Old Testament book of Joshua.  Telling the story of how the Israelite people came into the land that was promised to their ancestors all the way back to Abraham, the book is filled with stories that amaze, surprise, and mess with our 21^st century sensibilities.  Seen only with a narrow focus, the book makes us wonder whether the God of love that we know is the same God we see in the book.  But when viewed in the context of the overarching story of God’s plan for the redemption of His creation, the book makes sense and is one that brings comfort to God’s people.

The main commentary I am using for the class is titled “No Falling Words.”  That title refers to the idea that whatever words God speaks…whatever promises he makes…whatever he says will be done…those things indeed will be done…will be carried out…will be completed.  Joshua is filled with evidence of the God of Abraham keeping His promises…keeping his word…never letting his words fall away unfulfilled.

Not only could the book of Joshua be titled “No Falling Words,” rather, every book of the Bible could have that title.  The Bible is filled with stories and accounts of God keeping his word…keeping his promises…keeping his people.  And the pinnacle of those promises was first uttered in Genesis chapter 3 when God promised that the offspring of Eve would crush the head of the serpent, who had caused Eve to eat of the forbidden fruit.  Throughout the rest of the Old Testament, that promise was made in some form or another as God worked with His people and His creation to bring about its fulfillment.

And as Christians have long believed, that promise was fulfilled in the coming of the baby seen first in a manger in a stable in a backwater town in first century Israel.  As Amy Grant sings in her song, “Love Has Come,” hope…real hope…had indeed begun when Immanuel entered the world.  Listen to the chorus of that song.

 Love has come For the world to know, As the wise men knew Such a long time ago

And I believe that angels sang That hope had begun, When the God of glory Who is full of mercy

Yes, the God of glory Sent his son

 I know that there are many for whom the holiday season is not one of merry-making and joy.  Family relationships that are off base, loved ones who have passed away during the holidays, illness, depression, anxiety, and other issues that humanity faces every day get in the way of the wishful bliss of a merry and happy holiday season.

Even so…even with all that takes away the joy and happiness of the season…even with all of that, we can still rest in the truth that Hope has begun, and because of the resurrection of Christ that hope endures.

Whatever your circumstance during this time, know that with God, there are No Falling Words…that the Hope of the creation is alive and well.  May your days ahead be blessed days; and may you find that the baby in the manger brings you hope and blessing.

T he Holidays

 The end of each year seems so crowded and busy, given the holidays and all that goes with them, time off from school for the kids, the change in the calendar, and the sometimes difficult navigation of the weather.  The holidays are a time of travel, planning and attending get-togethers with friends and relatives, special services at churches, light shows in parks and other venues, cooking and meal-planning, gift-buying, end-of-semester testing at schools, and for some, graduation.

The holiday season begins before Thanksgiving and ends following New Year’s Day.  Thanksgiving and Christmas travel are two of the busiest times for travel in the year.  Many stores and businesses rely on holiday purchasing to push their bottom line over to the positive side.  Churches and other groups put on special events and shows, relying a lot on volunteer help.  Non profits ask for help providing food, gifts, and other necessities for those who are in need.  Even blood banks put out special pleas for blood donations because this time of the year is one of the slower times for that.

There is a down side to all of this.  If we’re not careful, we’ll get so wound up in the things and events of the season that we forget to care for ourselves.  We don’t plan for any down time.  We’re always working toward the next event, program, or thing to do.  And when it’s all done and January 2^nd comes around, we look back and wonder just what it was that we accomplished, or at least tried to accomplish.  The January/February doldrums hit at about that time, and we feel deflated, tired, and out of sorts.

Adding to all of that is the reality of another year on the calendar.  That means that we’re a year older.  It means that the months and years seem to be flying by ever more quickly.  We look back and wonder what happened, because the last we seem to recall, we were years younger and using a telephone with a dial on it that was hanging on the wall of our house.  We had to get up to change the channel on the TV, and sometimes open the little trap door and adjust the vertical hold.  We marvel that anyone younger than about 25 years old has little to no comprehension of 9-11…that anyone younger than about 35 doesn’t recall a time without cell phones or the Internet, anyone younger than about 45 doesn’t remember the Iranian hostages, anyone younger than about 55 doesn’t know about Watergate, and anyone younger than about 65 doesn’t recall Sputnik.

This year as you are going through the holidays, take some time for yourself.  You have permission to say, “No, thank you,” if you are asked to do something or attend something you really don’t have the time for.  You don’t have to have the best decorations in the neighborhood.  Your home doesn’t have to be spotless.  Your relatives out to third cousins once removed don’t all have to have a gift.  And it will be fine to buy some Rhodes frozen cinnamon rolls rather than making your own.

One more thing.  Keep in mind that there are some who aren’t in the holiday celebration mood.  Maybe they recently lost a loved one, or perhaps the holidays are also the anniversary of the loss of a loved one.  Some may be going through a tough relational situation with a spouse or someone else.  Some may not yet be working or have the wherewithal to go, buy, and do.  Some may be in the throes of depression or anxiety.  Some may have kids who are going off the deep end in some way.  Some may be battling chronic pain or illness.  Some may have a son, daughter, spouse or significant other in harm’s way in the military service.  There are a myriad of ailments, illnesses, trials and troubles in the world today.  Be thoughtful.  Be kind.  Be understanding.  Be patient.  Get the spotlight off of yourself.  Care about and for others.  Make your care tangible by doing for others.  Even a little goes a long way.

Above all, remember (as the old phrase goes) the reason for the season.  This should be a time of Thanksgiving…a time when we remember the blessings, both physical and spiritual, that come our way.  A time when we in turn serve and help others by using those gifts we have been given.  We pay it forward when we use our gifts, talents, and abilities in service to others.  And those small acts of kindness tend to keep on giving long after we did what we did for someone else.

May your holiday season be one of wonder, beauty, and light.  Blessings…

Great Is Thy Faithfulness

 Coming in to work this morning, I decided to take the long way to work.  I sometimes do that when I want to think or just enjoy the morning.  I don’t take Kellogg in as I usually do; rather, I come in by one or more roundabout ways that consume more time, but also have less traffic and congestion.

 As I was coming in to work, I was thinking about those just in our congregational fellowship who are dealing with some kind of pain or suffering during this holiday season.  We have one in the ICU on a ventilator due to COVID.  One was admitted last evening with a heart attack.  More than one is a widow or widower mourning the relatively recent loss of a life mate.  One has a son with advanced cancer.  One has had surgery that didn’t relieve the pain and is faced with either more surgery or being on pain medication for an extended time.  One has lost her child support and has no other source of income.  And these are just the beginning of the health issues that have manifested over the past few days and weeks.

 Additionally, we have people who are barely making ends meet right now.  Some are struggling with mental health issues.  Others have family and relational issues.  Some are caught in one of the governmental bureaucracies that purport to provide help but often are a hindrance due to the way the program is constructed.  Some are facing the reality that older age often brings…that life can never be as it once was.  And again, this is just the beginning of the struggles that I am aware of…and I’m sure there are many that I have no knowledge of.

 For a church Elder and minister such as myself, the burdens of the congregation can be overwhelming at times.  And one of those times was as I was driving in to work this morning thinking about all of the hurt, pain, and turmoil many are experiencing now.  As I thought of many of these individuals and families, a sense of helplessness came over me and, as often happens at such times, I asked God how we were supposed to be able to work with it all.  No answer apparently came.

 Arriving at the building, I was greeted by Rocky, one of our outdoor friends.  He was sitting in the sun warming himself, charging his cell phone using one of our outside electric outlets.  Rocky usually doesn’t come around until later in the day.  This was sort of unusual for him.

 “Hey, Rocky!  What’s going on?” I called out to him.

 Rocky told me more bad news.  He told me that Wild Bill, another of our outdoor friends who had recently gotten an apartment, passed away.  Rocky wasn’t sure, but thought they were saying the death was suspicious.

 We visited about Bill for a minute, then Rocky told me someone had stolen his bike…had cut the lock and took his bike.  This was the most recent of several that have been taken from him, and he wasn’t a bit happy.  We visited for a minute or two more, and then helped him with a couple of his immediate needs that we could fill.  I asked him to let me know if he finds out more about Bill.

 I went into the office and fired up the computer.  I clicked on the live feed of Senator Dole’s body lying in state in the Capitol building.  The politicians were finishing up short speeches about the Senator’s extraordinary life of service.  And although I never knew the Senator, the news of his passing a few days ago was just one more thing on my mind today.  Mr. Dole was far from perfect, but was an example for those in the political world to emulate, should they decide to do so.  With all of bad news I’d already received and thought about this morning, I again wondered how in the world I as an Elder and minister was supposed to process and respond to these events.  The depression and, shall I say, morbidity factor were rather high this morning in the office.

 And then the live feed of the Dole memorial announced a song to be sung.  The piano introduction sounded vaguely familiar, and I wondered if it could possibly be…  Yes, it was the hymn “Great Is Thy Faithfulness.”  I immediately focused all my attention on the words that I already knew so well, and thanked God for giving me an answer to the depressing morning.

 Great is thy faithfulness, O God my father.  There is no shadow of turning with thee.  Thou changest not; thy compassions they fail not.  As thou hast been, thou forever wilt be.

 Great is they faithfulness!  Great is they faithfulness!  Morning by morning new mercies I see.  All I have needed thy hand hath provided.  Great is thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me.

 Summer and winter and springtime and harvest; sun, moon, and stars in their courses above join with all nature in manifold witness to thy great faithfulness, mercy, and love.

 Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth.  Thine own dear presence to cheer and to guide.  Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow; blessings all mine, with 10,000 beside.

 Great is they faithfulness!  Great is they faithfulness!  Morning by morning new mercies I see.  All I have needed thy hand hath provided.  Great is thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me.

 AMEN

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As Long As It Is "Today"

 

Good afternoon, Thursday.  And welcome to December.

Yesterday started out as an ordinary day.  Getting up, doing the morning routine and coming in to work at the church, all was normal.  I spent most of the morning working on a Bible class I will be teaching at the beginning of the new year.  The time quickly passed, and it was time for lunch.  Sometimes I go home for lunch, and that was what I did yesterday.

In the kitchen, I decided to fix a sandwich for lunch and have some fruit.  I got out the sandwich-making stuff from the refrigerator…the mayo, lunch meat, lettuce, and so on…and took a couple slices of bread out of the loaf.  As I began to prepare one of the bread slices, it suddenly hit me.

I have vertigo and dizzy spells from time to time, and one chose this time to attack me.  It came on suddenly, without any warning signs I usually can detect.  I thought it might clear up in a few seconds, but it hung on so I did my best to put stuff back into the refrigerator and went to sit down in the living room.

That still didn’t do the trick, so I decided I needed to lay down and prepare for a longer bout with the dizziness.  I went back to our bedroom, hitting both sides of the hallway on the way there.  I managed to get my C PAP fixed up, took some medication, brought the trash can near the bed, (you can guess why) and lay down to rest.

A couple hours later I woke up feeling better.  I got up and gradually got back into the land of the living over the next hour or two.  This attack proved to be somewhat shorter than some I’ve had, which in many cases last most of the day.  I was grateful to be able to get up and be somewhat productive at home the rest of the afternoon and evening.  I never went back into work.

On a somewhat related note, and I’ll connect these two stories at the end, earlier in the week I was visiting with one of our members who has been battling cancer for the past several years.  I’ll call her Janice.  Janice has never been in remission, and the cancer is incurable, but the treatments she is still getting have slowed and sometimes stopped the progression.  She has ongoing chronic issues with the cancer as well as the treatment, and is home much of the time.  Her memory sometimes isn’t what it ought to be, and her strength and stamina are a shadow of what they were a few years ago.  Every day is a battle for her.

I asked Janice during the conversation if she ever felt like just giving up and not getting out of bed in the morning.  She said that she was thankful for every morning that she could get up and get around, and hasn’t dwelt on the idea of just giving up and giving in to the illness.  Her attitude seems to be one of thankfulness and gratefulness in the life she’s been given, and she is determined to live that life to the fullest extent possible for as long as possible.

I thought of my conversation yesterday with Janice as I was laying in bed fighting off the vertigo and dizziness.  Sometimes I just get to the point in life that I don’t much care anymore.  And sometimes it doesn’t take very much for me to begin feeling that way.  I’m sure that Janice has also had days and times when it seemed much easier to just give up the struggle…give up the fight.  But thankfully for her, those days and times seem to be few and far between.

I too sometimes have that little pity party for myself, as I did for a few seconds yesterday wondering why in the world I was blessed (so to speak) with chronic vertigo and dizziness issues.  I’ve had these things for the past 38 years, and have learned to live with them and deal with them as best I can.  However, vertigo is not life-threatening.  Cancer is.  There’s a world of difference in the battles I fight and those Janice fights.  She’s fighting for her life every single day.  I’m fighting for being productive on those infrequent days I don’t feel well.

Sometimes we look at our lot in life and wish we could get rid of this or that hindrance, or that we could be like someone else who apparently has no hindering issues of major importance.  Sometimes we feel sorry for ourselves because of what life has given us.  And sometimes we just want to go hide under the covers and not come out until the second coming of Christ.

The great Apostle Paul of the New Testament talks about a “Thorn of the flesh” that he had…possibly something similar to my vertigo episodes or Janice’s chronic condition.  Or perhaps it was something like a disability or hindrance that you might have.  Paul wrote about it in what we know as the second letter to the Corinthian church.  He had just written about his being privy to revelations from God that he could not put into words.  Then he writes this to the Corinthian church:

So that I would not become arrogant, a thorn in the flesh was given to me, a messenger of Satan to trouble me—so that I would not become arrogant.  I asked the Lord three times about this, that it would depart from me.  But he said to me, “My grace is enough for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”  So then, I will boast most gladly about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may reside in me.

Whether or not we are given such things as vertigo or cancer in order to keep us from being arrogant, as Paul said about himself and his thorn, I don’t know and won’t even speculate.  But I have to make the connection with Paul when he says that was the reason why God chose not to remove that liability, whatever it was.

May we always be thankful and grateful that we wake up in the morning to a new day…that we revel in the time given to us…that we make the most of that time in service to the God who loves us, chooses us to be in his family, and desires the very best for us.  May we love and serve God as well as our neighbor with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength for as long as it is “today.”

 

Blessings,

A Mural on a Garage Door

 

One of my Facebook friends, author, mother and wife Kendra Broekhuis, (Brook Hice) has posted recently about her effort to paint a mural on her garage door.  Kendra and her family live in an urban section of Milwaukee, Wisconsin.  The neighborhood is OK, but they knew going in that there were the usual urban problems and issues.  They purposely moved there with the idea of serving and ministering to the community.  Kendra wrote a book about some of that ministry effort from their time living in an apartment complex before they moved to their present home.  Her book, “Here Goes Nothing…an introverts reckless attempt to love her neighbor,” is an honest, yet humorous and compelling look at doing ministry next door.

 Back to the garage door.  Kendra writes that she wanted something on her door that was more than just a mural.  She says,  “But most of all, I wanted to write part of the blessing that our pastor says over the congregation when he dismisses us. Every Sunday he says, ‘Now, in the power of the resurrection, let us go forth and bear witness and seek the peace of Milwaukee as those who love our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.’”  So she enlisted the help of some art students and their teacher from a nearby school to clean up the door and paint a Milwaukee skyline on the door along with a representation of the dismissal blessing as a class project.

 Of course, that thought is taken from Jeremiah 29 where God tells the captive Israelites who are in Babylon to, and I quote:  “Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce.  Marry and have sons and daughters; find wives for your sons and give your daughters in marriage, so that they too may have sons and daughters. Increase in number there; do not decrease.  Also, seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the Lord for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper.”

 I don’t know about you, but sometimes this principle of seeking the peace and prosperity of the place where I’ve been called to live is difficult.  I look around at things and wonder if there is any way that I can have any kind of positive influence on anything.  The political shenanigans, the poverty, the societal breakdowns, sickness & disease, and the general brokenness of life and living weigh heavily on me.

 But then I go back to what God told His people some 2,700 years ago.  Build houses.  Settle down.  Marry.  Have families.  Find beauty and sustenance in the creation.  Seek the peace and prosperity of the place where you have been placed.  This is Jay again.  And, while you’re doing all of these ordinary things, God will work in extraordinary ways through us to redeem His creation, often one person…one family…one community at a time.

 That was exactly what Kendra was doing when, while living in that apartment complex, she reached out to her neighbors with random acts of kindness, encouragement, and the love of God in spite of her inherent shyness and introverted nature.  You’ll have to read the book to find out how that all turned out…and by the way, you’ll be blessed by doing so.

 If we allow the brokenness of the world to put us into states of depression and despair, we are hurting ourselves and failing to carry out God’s purpose for us.  God calls us to be in the world, but not of the world.  Don’t check out of life and living because of the brokenness of the creation.  Tap into the power and grace of God to not only face the world head on, but through the ordinary work of life and living allow God to change and renew His creation and crowning glory of that creation…One  Human  At  A  Time.

 May God go with you through the rest of this week as you seek the peace and prosperity of the place where you have been sent.  Blessings.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We Have To Do Something

 A couple days ago a woman came into the office seeking assistance from us.  She and a friend of hers had been at Sunday services a couple of days before seeking help, but we generally don’t do that on Sunday mornings due to the other responsibilities that we have as a ministerial staff.  We will work with an emergency situation, but this wasn’t an emergency.  We asked them to come in during the week and we’d visit with them about their need.

It seems the woman has been having a rather tough year.  Her 17 year old son was killed while in juvenile detention and her mother passed away in August.  She lost her place to live and was staying in her car.  She had a line on a place to stay but needed money for the rent and deposit.

We don’t do rent or deposits.  We don’t have the resources to do that, and there are a host of both governmental as well as non-profits that handle those kinds of things.  We told her we couldn’t help her with that, but as we talked further, it became apparent that she had no place to go that night or the next several nights and seemed to not have much information on who to contact to obtain the help she needed.  It was also fairly apparent that she was depressed.

We decided to violate one of our benevolence guidelines and put her up in a motel for a few days.  And we did.  We provided a week of rent for a room at the local Motel 6 and I gave her an extensive listing of various government and non-profit places to check with to find help.  I also pulled her aside at the motel out of the presence of her friend, who was a man, and asked if she was being treated OK and that he was not abusing her in any way.  She assured me she was OK.  I know that often women will not honestly answer that question, but I had to ask, letting her know that I was aware of her situation and could help her get out of a situation she may not have wanted to be in.  The motel man let her know with certainty that she was not to entertain visitors or have others in her room under penalty of having to leave the motel.

So we left the situation at that, and I went on about my daily business.  I had, however, a continual nagging feeling about things…not that we gave her a room…not that she had a man friend who I wasn’t sure about…not that she was depressed…but rather I had, and still have, the feeling that we really didn’t accomplish much.  We really didn’t alleviate her situation.  We only postponed some of it for a time.

It's kind of like the example you may have already heard.  Your bathtub is overflowing in your house.  But rather than shutting off the water and opening the drain in the tub, you begin to mop up the mess on the floor, leaving the water running and the drain plugged.  You never fix the root of the issue…you just mitigate the symptoms for a time.

I don’t know what the answer is to homelessness, mental illness, and poverty.  As I’ve said often before, I don’t even know what questions to ask.  But somehow, somewhere, some way, there have to be people who not only know what questions to ask, but some of whom can offer answers that make sense.

One answer I’ve heard that seems to make sense to me is a one-stop shop type of place…a physical space…a place…where those who are homeless can go and right then and there access a wide range of services.  Services like mental health care, prescription drug care, housing services, transportation services, services to help someone find a job or obtain an ID, and whatever other services may prove helpful.  Similar to something we already have like that in Sedgwick County…the Child Advocacy Center…a one-stop place where children who have been abused or trafficked along with their families can obtain a wide range of services.  It is working, and working well.  It is supported by both Sedgwick County and the City of Wichita.  It was sorely needed and is a godsend for many.

As it is, homeless services are available, but are scattered all over the county.  The homeless are shuffled from one place to another, given addresses and phone numbers, and sent on their way.  Many don’t bother to run the incredibly complex gauntlet of social services as it exists now.  Many have no transportation except their feet.  Many have non-working phones or no phone at all.  Adequate access to the Internet is a dream.  They have no mailing address, no money, no place to safely store what few belongings they have, and no sense of time or even of day.  A “Homeless Advocacy Center” would be a huge step in the right direction.

For now, however, that nagging feeling of mopping the floor instead of turning off the faucet will remain, specifically with this woman’s story.  It is my hope that instead of repeatedly saying, “We have to do something,” by those in the seat of power and leadership locally, but never get around to what that “something” is, that someone will say, “This is what we need to work toward and this is how we can do that.”

 

Until then, may God bless us, every one.

I Don't Do Movies

 

Good morning.  It is indeed Thursday again.

 OK.  Let’s get this out into the open.  I don’t do movies.  That’s right, I’m one of about 200 people in all of the United States who doesn’t do movies.  Oh, I’ve been to theaters and seen some, and I’ve watched some at home, but by and large I don’t do movies.  I couldn’t tell you who the stars of the screen are now, or even the past 30 or so years; nor can I tell you any of the latest movies…or even movies from last year, the year before, or even before that.

And I’m OK with that.  The wife is a little unsettled at my reluctance to attend a theater with her, and I often will do anything but turn the TV channel to a movie if I can help it.  I do watch some of the really old ones on TCM such as Casablanca, Stagecoach, Bringing Up Baby, or The Bridge On the River Kwai.  And the John Wayne movies are always good to watch.  But today’s fare for the most part is really not my thing.

I’ve often wondered why movies aren’t my thing.  I like stories.  I usually have the time to watch them.  Finances aren’t an issue with our going to the theater.  And I know the wife likes to go to the movies from time to time.  So, what’s going on here?

I’ve thought about the answer to that question for years.  The result?  I probably don’t like most movies for the same reason I won’t watch most TV shows anymore, especially the dramas, cop shows, etc.  I really don’t need any more drama or real life adventure in my daily life, and watching these things only inserts that drama into it.  I have enough reality in what I see, hear, and do each day without having to insert some kind of manufactured reality into my day in order to somehow feel fulfilled or complete.  Nor am I in any kind of competition with anyone else to see the latest movie or take in the latest TV show.  I have no need to validate my social standing by letting people know that I saw this or that flick the moment it came out.  Nor do I have need to know the latest Hollywood gossip.  I couldn’t care less.

I guess most of this kind of attitude came about as a result of my work in health care, and especially in EMS.  Over the fifteen or so years I was an EMT, and in my in-hospital work, I saw enough “reality” to last more than a lifetime.  Often in the course of that career, when I was off duty after a particularly difficult day, all I wanted to do was sit in a dark, quiet room for a time.  At the time, I thought that the things I had witnessed…the automobile wrecks, the suicides, the falls, the code blues, the deaths, the grief of loved ones, and the reality of “life will never again be as it has been,” hadn’t changed me in any material way, but I was wrong.  I made more ambulance runs than I can count.  I worked alongside nurses, respiratory therapy, and physicians in the emergency room.  I estimate that I’ve seen about three dozen humans breathe their last.  I knew most of those I helped care for, and often knew their families as well.

I don’t say those things to make myself look good or to solicit any kind of compassion.  I don’t need any of that.  I say them to bolster the thought that it was that time in my life when I began to realize that manufactured reality was not something I needed.  And that thought has continued to this day.

Even now I continue to see suffering in the form of the homeless, those in poverty, those who are addicted, the mentally ill, the down-and-out.  I don’t see it constantly, but as someone who works with benevolence in an urban, downtown church, all of that and more comes to the office door in the course of a month.

So, if you enjoy movies and TV shows, good for you.  There’s nothing wrong, as such, with participating in those things.  I would counsel you, however, to be selective in what your mind takes in and how it affects your life, living, and relationships.  And cut me some slack when I can’t visit about the cop drama that was on TV last night or the movie that came out over the weekend.  I’m just not in to that, thank you, and I’m doing fine without it.

 

Blessings,

The Little Things

 

My wife and I recently received a card in the snail mail.  I could tell from the return address who it was from and wondered why we were getting a card of any kind from her.  We hadn't given her any kind of gift.  Nor did we celebrate some anniversary or birthday recently.  When I opened the envelope, I saw that it was a thank you card.  That made me even more curious as to why we were receiving a thank you card from her.  The answer was in what she wrote on the inside.

“I'm trying to get caught up on thank you cards!  About eight years ago you two very kindly took me to lunch at Red Lobster.  I've thought about that lunch many, many times over the years and I truly cannot express how much your kindness meant to me.  I do not look back on that time of my life with much joy, but these moments of kindness kept me going when I was not sure I could.  So, thank you!  Sorry it took me eight years to express this.”

Well, I honestly don't remember taking this woman to the Red Lobster or anywhere else.  I will have to presume we did, as that is sometimes where we go on Sunday noon when it's just the two of us.  But it is the message that really struck me.

I do know that she was going through a hard time back then.  Her husband had filed for divorce, going off with another woman.  They had just both lost their jobs...that is they had been terminated...not that far back from the divorce situation, and things didn't look good, especially for a newly-single woman.  My wife and I could relate because although we weren't in a divorce situation, we both had lost jobs in the recent past from termination, although by the time of our lunch with her we had gained employment.  I presume we talked about that and encouraged her in whatever ways we could at the time.

I tell you this story in order to say this:  One never knows what an act of kindness...even one so mundane as buying lunch for someone else...may accomplish.  If you go back to her comments, you will notice that she had been thinking about that lunch quote “many, many times over the years.”  Unquote.  And then she says, “These moments of kindness kept me going when I was not sure I could.”

It is a privilege to know that something we did for someone apparently paid big dividends far beyond any discomfort or financial loss that may have occurred in doing what we did.  We don't always know when we have touched someone like this.  In fact, we most of the time DON'T know how what we do affects others and what kind of ripples down the road of time are created by what we do.  So it's nice to get a card like this that expresses some of that.

I don't know what your situation is in life.  Some of you may be able to eat at Red Lobster or some other nicer place without having to worry about whether you can afford it.  Others of you may barely have enough resources to squeeze by the month.  But you don't need to be well-to-do in order to be kind to someone who may be going through a difficult period in life.  A phone call, a card in the mail, some kind words when you are with them...or maybe some homemade cookies, bread, or other goodies...the instrument of the kindness isn't important.  What IS important is that you cared enough to do whatever it is you've done.  You were concerned enough that you spent time and energy on their behalf.  You thought of them.  You prayed for them.  You encouraged them.  You helped bear their burden.  You validated their humanity and the inherent dignity and respect that goes with that humanity.  You were a friend when they needed one.

It isn't rocket science to figure out what you might be able to do and who may need what you can do.  Find someone in the next 7 days that you could encourage or build up.  Find someone who could use a friend.  Find someone who needs someone to share a burden.  And then step up in kindness toward that person.  You may never know how much you will change the world with your actions.

An Old Crisis

 I know someone right now…I’ll call him Brad…who is in the middle of not only a mental health crisis, but also is trying to navigate the incredibly complicated world of insurance, placement, and treatment at the same time.  Brad not only is clinically depressed; he also has had suicidal thoughts and has begun at least once to act on those thoughts.  He has a provider, is on prescribed medications, has insurance, and recognizes that he needs help.  Those things alone are much more than many of the mentally ill have.  Brad’s checked himself into an area mental health treatment facility more than once and is there now.

Brad is a single man who has parents living, and in fact lives with his parents.  His parents aren’t much help, generally disbelieving in mental health issues and saying that he soon will “snap out of it.”  His ex wife and her family are very concerned for Brad and are helping him as best they can from the distance of an ex-in-law family.

As I said earlier, Brad is now in an area treatment facility that is a short-term placement.  His insurance is covering a short term stay, but will not go farther with this facility.  Brad needs to check in to a facility for a long-term treatment plan.  He is willing to do so and knows he needs to do so.  There is only one such facility that is appropriate for him in Kansas.  But according to those working with him, it may be weeks before all of the paperwork, permission from his insurance, and an open available bed come together.

The big question is, what is Brad going to do between now and some nebulous time in the future when a bed may become available for him?  Go back home to his parents, who believe he doesn’t have a genuine health issue?  Find a friend to live with?  Go it on his own, hoping either he or someone else will stop him from carrying out his suicidal tendencies?

Mental health care, not only in Kansas, but nationwide, is and has long been in crisis mode.  Far too many mentally ill people are living on the streets.  Far too many mentally ill people cannot get the care they need.  Far too many mentally ill people have to somehow navigate the incredibly complex world of insurance, medical records, facility beds, transportation, and other issues at the same time they are in the midst of some kind of mental health crisis.

There are thousands of Brads just in the Wichita metropolitan area, to say nothing of nationwide.  When, in heaven’s name, are we going to recognize our responsibility as a society to care for these moms, dads, sons, daughters, grand children, grand parents, aunts, and uncles?  When are we going to prioritize mental health as we do entertainment & leisure, social media, and accumulation of wealth?

I don’t know the answers.  I’m not even sure of the questions anymore.  But I am certain that Brad and those like him will continue to receive no care or substandard care for the foreseeable future.  And for that, other than advocate for change, all I can do is say, I am so sorry.

Change the World

 

My wife and I recently received a card in the snail mail.  I could tell from the return address who it was from and wondered why we were getting a card of any kind from her.  We hadn't given her any kind of gift.  Nor did we celebrate some anniversary or birthday recently.  When I opened the envelope, I saw that it was a thank you card.  That made me even more curious as to why we were receiving a thank you card from her.  The answer was in what she wrote on the inside.

“I'm trying to get caught up on thank you cards!  About eight years ago you two very kindly took me to lunch at Red Lobster.  I've thought about that lunch many, many times over the years and I truly cannot express how much your kindness meant to me.  I do not look back on that time of my life with much joy, but these moments of kindness kept me going when I was not sure I could.  So, thank you!  Sorry it took me eight years to express this.”

Well, I honestly don't remember taking this woman to the Red Lobster or anywhere else.  I will have to presume we did, as that is sometimes where we go on Sunday noon when it's just the two of us.  But it is the message that really struck me.

I do know that she was going through a hard time back then.  Her husband had filed for divorce, going off with another woman.  They had just both lost their jobs...that is they had been terminated...not that far back from the divorce situation, and things didn't look good, especially for a newly-single woman.  My wife and I could relate because although we weren't in a divorce situation, we both had lost jobs in the recent past from termination, although by the time of our lunch with her we had gained employment.  I presume we talked about that and encouraged her in whatever ways we could at the time.

I tell you this story in order to say this:  One never knows what an act of kindness...even one so mundane as buying lunch for someone else...may accomplish.  If you go back to her comments, you will notice that she had been thinking about that lunch quote “many, many times over the years.”  Unquote.  And then she says, “These moments of kindness kept me going when I was not sure I could.”

It is a privilege to know that something we did for someone apparently paid big dividends far beyond any discomfort or financial loss that may have occurred in doing what we did.  We don't always know when we have touched someone like this.  In fact, we most of the time DON'T know how what we do affects others and what kind of ripples down the road of time are created by what we do.  So it's nice to get a card like this that expresses some of that.

I don't know what your situation is in life.  Some of you may be able to eat at Red Lobster or some other nicer place without having to worry about whether you can afford it.  Others of you may barely have enough resources to squeeze by the month.  But you don't need to be well-to-do in order to be kind to someone who may be going through a difficult period in life.  A phone call, a card in the mail, some kind words when you are with them...or maybe some homemade cookies, bread, or other goodies...the instrument of the kindness isn't important.  What IS important is that you cared enough to do whatever it is you've done.  You were concerned enough that you spent time and energy on their behalf.  You thought of them.  You prayed for them.  You encouraged them.  You helped bear their burden.  You validated their humanity and the inherent dignity and respect that goes with that humanity.  You were a friend when they needed one.

It isn't rocket science to figure out what you might be able to do and who may need what you can do.  Find someone in the next 7 days that you could encourage or build up.  Find someone who could use a friend.  Find someone who needs someone to share a burden.  And then step up in kindness toward that person.  You may never know how much you will change the world with your actions.

Keep On

 

 In June of this year, I told you about my friend Rebecca…a person who was my classmate throughout our school days, and with whom I reconnected a few years ago at the memorial services for her mother in our hometown.  I hadn’t heard much out of Rebecca in the past weeks, so I emailed her to ask if everything was OK.  As you may recall, Rebecca has been battling MS for over 20 years, and because of that physically is nothing like she was in earlier life.  She is an academic, and to my knowledge still teaches some using on line resources.

 Well, she responded to me a couple of days later.  Yes, everything is OK.  Because of the MS and the medications she has to take, her immune system is greatly compromised.  The vaccination for COVID will, in all probability, never cause her to develop antibodies, and if she catches the illness, it would be an almost certain death sentence.  The first line of her return email to me reflects that reality.  She writes, “I feel like a frustrated prisoner these days.  I have lost all sympathy or empathy for the unvaccinated.”  Whatever your viewpoint on vaccinations, I’m sure you can understand her point of view.

 So, what does someone with long term chronic MS who can’t go out anywhere because of a severely compromised immune system do with her spare time?  Well, if that someone is Rebecca, she signs up for chemical biology and immunology courses with Rice University with the goal of completing a course of study, and becoming knowledgeable enough about what is going on with her body in that field of knowledge to contribute to the ongoing discussions in that area by researchers, physicians, and others, especially as it relates to MS and related chronic conditions.

 I don’t know about you, but I am nowhere nearly as physically compromised as she is.  Yet going back to school for some kind of advanced degree isn’t even on my lowest priority bucket list, let alone go for an advanced degree in an area of study that is completely foreign to me which might help me better understand the osteoarthritis I have or perhaps some other thing related to my existence.  In fact, when I finally obtained my undergrad degree in my mid 40’s, my advisor recommended I go on for an MBA.  I politely declined and have never regretted that decision.  I’m not anti-advanced education; I just have too much I’ve not yet done in life that I want to do, to carve out time for that.

 I greatly admire people like Rebecca who “keep on keeping on,” as the saying goes.  I told her that she inspired me…not to go back to school, but to continue in life and living as fully and completely as I can.  I only have to begin a pity party for myself when I think of her and others I know who are in much more difficult straits than I am in, and I quickly realize it’s time to put away the party stuff and get back into life.

 I don’t know where you are in life.  I don’t know if you are having some kind of chronic issue, whether medical or something else.  I don’t know if you are young or older.  I don’ know your beliefs regarding God, religion, and so on.  But I do know that regardless of all of that, the human condition generally has always been one of pressing on.  For a guy named Paul, who wrote much of the New Testament, that was also his mantra.  Here’s what he said about that:  “This one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.”

For Paul, that prize was the eternal hereafter in the presence of God and the reward for Paul’s faithfulness in this life.  Above all else, this should be our goal as well as we press on in our daily lives…keeping on keeping on…as we count our days with gratitude and thanksgiving.

 Blessings.

The Unsigned Criticism

 

Good morning.  It’s Thursday morning!

 Well, we got one of “those” notes this past Sunday from who we think is one of our members.  It was one of notes that sometimes comes when someone is unhappy about a decision that was made on behalf of the congregation.  This particular decision is regarding some upgrades and maintenance projects that we need to complete.  We’ve told the congregation about them and have told our members that if they would like to contribute to the cost of the upgrades and maintenance over and above their normal contributions, we would certainly appreciate any help they could give.

 I won’t tell you the exact words in the note, but the gist of it was that these things are not needs, but rather wants.  The writer wondered why we didn’t instead spend those funds on gospel meetings, door knocking, prison ministry, homeless outreach, and other endeavors.

 And, of course, it was an unsigned note.

 Well, I won’t go in to all of the ministries the church is involved with…everything from feeding the homeless to mentoring in the public schools, along with providing support for and volunteering at a local home for troubled teen and pre-teen girls.  I am gratified at all of the outreach, work, and support by our members in the name of Jesus Christ in the Wichita area as well as world wide through various missions points ranging from Cambodia to India, Africa, South America, Russia and others.  No, we are not perfect.  But I believe we have in general a heart for people and a love for Jesus Christ and His good news which we willingly share whenever given the chance.

 Notes such as this, along with accusations, criticisms, and other such which come to me unsigned are in my mind worthy of nothing more than the paper they are written on.  I remember back to an older man who since has gone to his reward, who was a long-time member of this congregation.  A businessman, Bob was very polite and also very astute.  Whenever some kind of thing such as this came his way, he would say, “I’ll give this all the consideration it deserves,” and promptly would toss it away and forget it.  I will do the same with this unsigned criticism.

 What the writer doesn’t know is that our Elder board and staff have wrestled with many of these issues for over three years.  We’ve discussed, thought about, prayed for, and did our best to come up with the most cost-effective and best projects that were most needed in order to operate a church ministry in the middle of downtown Wichita.  We have done nothing flippantly or quickly.  The bureaucracy has moved very, very slowly sometimes in these last years.  We believe we have done the best we could do, asking for the hand of God to guide us all along the way.  We have no second thoughts about our actions and decisions.

 If the writer of the note, or anyone for that matter, wishes to do one of the ministries mentioned in the note…organize another homeless ministry, get a door-knocking campaign together…or do it himself…organize a gospel meeting, start a prison ministry, or one of any number of outreaches, he or she is free to do so.  And we the church will support them in their endeavors.  We always have supported volunteers who wish to be part of an outreach, and we will continue to do so.  Meanwhile, we will continue on the path we believe God has chosen for us as a congregation, taking care to do so with sober judgment and due diligence.

 We will always, it seems, occasionally have to deal with anonymous writers of notes which are critical and have no purpose other than to make the writer somehow feel better or, dare I say, superior in some way.  We will, however, continue to give such anonymous notes and criticisms “all the consideration they deserve.”

Blessings,

Grace & Mercy

 

Good morning.  It’s Thursday morning !

 Any time the church embarks on something new and different, there will be those who will embrace the new and different, and those who long for the old ways of church life and living.  I suppose it’s inevitable that this kind of thing happens, because whether in church, politics, family life, the work environment, or wherever, there will always be differences of opinion regarding what, how, when, where, or who.  Each one who has an opinion of course believes his or her opinion is the correct one; no one honestly holds an opinion that he knows or believes is wrong.

This kind of behavior is common not only in church life, but in many areas of life and living.  Politics is a prime example, along with business or work decisions, family relationships, and other areas of life.  But it isn’t as simple as just looking at some issue for a few brief moments and making some kind of informed judgment.  Much of the time the issues involved are not nearly as black-and-white as one might believe.  Additionally, most of us who form opinions don’t know enough about the situation to be able to form a truly educated and informed opinion.

We aren’t privy to all of the information.  We aren’t sure whether the information we have is biased or not, or even truthful in some cases.  We allow our own world view to shape and form our opinion, creating our own bias.  We tend to gravitate toward that information and those people who share our world view, thereby reducing or eliminating ideas or thoughts that might be contrary to what we already believe and would open up our thought process.  And sometimes we even develop a sort of self-righteous attitude which invades our thoughts and tends to further polarize the situation and our opinions.  We are indeed fallible individuals.

So, why do I bring up all of this?  Just this.  It’s fine to hold opinions.  It’s fine to express those opinions in a proper way and in the proper venue.  But to allow opinions which in most cases by far are inaccurate or incomplete to become dividing walls is foolish and ignorant.  And for the Christian, such behavior goes against clear Biblical teaching.

Proverbs 18:2 says this:  “A fool takes no pleasure in understanding, but only expressing his opinion.”  Paul, in Romans 14 talks much about differences of opinion.  Here is some selected text from that chapter as Paul talks about some who observe dietary restrictions and others don’t; and some observe certain holidays and others don’t.  The principles in this text are timeless even if the specific examples don’t necessarily apply.

Do not quarrel over opinions.  One person believes he may eat anything, while another eats only vegetables.  Let not the one who eats despise the one who does not, and let not the one who does not eat pass judgment on the one who eats, for God has welcomed him.

One person observes one day as better than another, while another observes all days alike.  Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind.  The one who observes the day, observes it in honor of the Lord.  The one who eats, eats in honor of the Lord, while the one who abstains, abstains in honor of the Lord and gives thanks to God.  For none of us lives to himself, and none of us dies to himself.  Why do you pass judgment on your brother?  So then each of us will give an account of himself to God.

I readily confess that it is sometimes a herculean challenge to refrain from comments and thoughts that serve to divide rather than unite.  To admit that I am wrong in an opinion I may have held for many years is also a huge hurdle to overcome.  However, I am not infallible.  I am not the end-all and be-all of knowledge.  My world view is a natural and powerful bias.  My life experiences, my environment, my family, education and perceptions of things color how I form opinions.

In political circles, the Democrats aren’t perfect.  Neither are the Republicans, the Socialists, the Libertarians, the Progressives, or anyone else.  And all political activity operates in accordance with its own agenda.

In Christian circles, I am not the final and perfect arbitor & interpreter of holy scripture.  I certainly don’t know it all.  I am just like everyone else…my need for grace and mercy from the Living God is mandatory to my well-being.  And as I receive grace and mercy, so I am to give grace and mercy to others.  As I forgive others, I will myself be forgiven.

May God help us to find grace and mercy in these troubled times.  Blessings.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Some Random Thoughts

 

I have struggled this week to find an acceptable topic for my Thursday Thought.  I have had an avalanche of thoughts and ideas go through my head over the weekend and earlier this week, but none have really gelled as they usually do.  So let me just give you an idea of what’s been happening this week in the way of my thoughts for this Thursday video.

I’ve had thoughts about both the beauty & loveliness of the created order, and also about the brokenness of that same creation.  Earlier this week, I stood about three feet away from the hummingbird feeder we keep in our yard and I observed that beauty, watching up to five hummers fighting and tormenting one-another for control of the feeder.  Of course, none ever really got hurt…it was all aerial acrobatics, divebombing, and posturing.  And the hummers seemed unconcerned that I was within touching distance of them when they managed to land on the feeder and sip some nectar.  It was a sort of surreal experience, and one that held me for probably 15 or so minutes…just watching and marveling.

On the other side of that, and in line with the brokenness of the creation, one encounter with a homeless person stands out.  Mary is a frequent flyer at the church.  She never has a lot of need, but always has some small need…a bottle of water, food enough for a sort of a meal, or just someone to talk to who isn’t going to take advantage of her in some way.  She’s an older woman, and I have no idea how she’s managed to survive on the street for as long as she has.

This week, she needed a little food & water, and someone to talk to for a few minutes.  She also wanted us to keep a prized possession of hers…a small rock with a John Deere tractor logo embedded in it…in the office for safe keeping so it wouldn’t be stolen.  Her rambling explanation of the small limestone rock didn’t make much sense to me except that I gather it belongs, or once belonged to her daughter.  We visited some out on the lawn in the shade of a tree, and I accepted the rock and told her she could come get it any time the office was open.

I’ve also had thoughts about the state of the world today, politics, Afghanistan, COVID, elections, and all that goes along with those topics, which I’ll melt into a sort of unified thought.  And that thought is this:  I don’t know enough, and will never know enough to truly know whether this policy, that decision, some rule or regulation, or a court decision is really the right and correct one for the time and situation.  I’m not an expert in international relations.  I have very little knowledge of the law, the courts, and the legal system.  I’m not privy to the conversations, diplomatic cables, intelligence briefings, and other information needed to make an informed decision regarding policy and practice.

I have opinions, yes.  But my opinions are no more and no less valid than anyone else’s.  And the opinions I hold are based on very little factual information, which has been further biased by my world view and the world views of those who gave me the information.  I am in no way the all-knowing god of what is right and wrong, good and bad.  And neither are you.  It’s time we all accepted that fact, speak less, listen more, and lavish grace upon one-another.  As the Apostle Paul says in the New Testament, “Let your conversation be filled with grace…”

I have had many more thoughts this past week, but I’ll end with this one.  I’ve seen the value of human relationship.  Now, I’m not talking about the casual, “How are you?”  “I’m fine,” relationship, but rather the deeper, more personal, and beneficial relationships that we have with a relative few individuals.  People who will, with a text or phone call drop what they are doing and come to the aid of their friend, whatever the need may be.  People who will listen without judgment.  People who will enjoy just being there.  People who can be counted on unconditionally, in any circumstance, at any time, in any way.

These people may be best friends.  They may be someone who is part of the family.  They may be a co-worker or member of the church family.  Or they may be someone you don’t even know who has stepped up into the gap, so to speak, to protect and serve…with their life if necessary.  I’ve seen that in action this week.  And it makes me proud to be a human being…grateful to have such people in my life.

I trust you too have such people in your life.  I also trust that you will see the beauty of the creation that surrounds you, will understand and work to mitigate the brokenness that is among us, and will measure each word you speak, think, or write in terms of the grace that accompanies it.

May your Thursday be a blessed day.

"Grace Bats Last"

 

This coming Saturday is September 11, 2021.  For some of the very young, this date may not mean much; but for most of us that date is one that will forever be burned into our conscience.  Just as December 7, 1941 was burned into the hearts and minds of a couple of generations ago for what we now call Pearl Harbor Day, so 9-11 will be on our minds and hearts for many years to come.

 If you are like most of us, you know exactly where you were and what you were doing when you heard the news of the first plane ramming one of the twin towers…then the second doing the same thing to the other tower.  You recall President Bush’s face when, as he was reading to a group of elementary school kids, he was told that the nation was under attack.  You recall at least some of the wall-to-wall coverage by the media, the look of total astonishment and bewilderment on the faces of the responders, and the sight of people leaping out of the windows of the towers multiple tens of stories up…looking at certain death one way or the other.

 You recall some of the memes that were put on social media.  You recall talking with family and friends, trying to process the events of the day.  As time went on, you began to wonder why we didn’t know this was going to happen and why we didn’t take measures against terrorism on American soil to protect us from it.

 As you processed the events of 9-11 over the next weeks and months, something changed within you as well.  Almost imperceptibly, you began to feel a bit more nervous and concerned about things in general.  You became weary of the news cycle.  You wondered in the back of your mind when the next shoe would figuratively drop.  You began to feel a bit less safe and secure in your everyday environment.  You were trying to adjust to a “new normal” and a “new reality,” but you were somehow still connected to the old and were  having trouble moving over to that new thing called terrorism.

 And things haven’t changed much over the years.  Yes, we’re finally out of Afghanistan, which was a result of 9-11.  I don’t know if it was the right thing to do to go in in the first place, and I don’t know about leaving, and how we left.  And I don’t know if we really accomplished our purpose in being there.  I’ll leave all of those decisions, and the responsibility for them…to those who are supposed to know and whose job it is to make those decisions.

 Yes, it’s true there hasn’t been another attack on American soil like the one on 9-11 since that day 20 years ago.  And yes, we now have the TSA and other measures designed to protect us and even thwart future terrorist activities.  We’ve spent trillions of dollars on protection, military conflicts, and safety in one way or another.  Yet for some strange reason, I don’t feel much safer.  I still am some nervous and concerned.  I still tire of the news cycle.  I still wonder when the other shoe will drop.  I still remember those who lost their lives, those who jumped out of 80-story windows, and those who ran toward danger rather than away from it.  I recall with thanksgiving those who have served and are serving, whether in the military, or in public service such as police, fire, and EMS.

 And one other thing I recall.  I recall a recent post by Anne Lamott as she mused about the current situation regarding COVID, the hurricanes, Afghanistan, and other major events of the day.  In the post she talks of how the current situation has affected her and how she would respond to her Sunday School class of kids…well…rather than tell you what she wrote, I’ll just read what she wrote and let these words enter into your conscience.  This is Ann Lamott now.

 I am having trouble remembering all the things to be freaked out about right now. It’s once again like trying to put an octopus to bed; just when you think you’ve finally tucked in all the arms, one pops out. I feel alternately crushed, enraged, and flabbergasted; also, hopeful and amazed by the roaring and tender humanitarian response to Afghanistan, hurricane Ida, and Texas.

What would I tell my Sunday School kids today if we were in person? I always tell them the same things—that grace bats last: to notice the beauty all around us, the meadows near us, tawny beneath the soft grey fog; to know that God calls them Beloved, as is and no matter what; to listen and hear each other.

 This is Jay again.  Did you catch that phrase, “Grace bats last?”  That’s a signature phrase of Lamott, using a baseball analogy.  And here is another quote from her explaining more about what that phrase means to her.  This is from an interview in 2013.

 Interviewer: We live in a supposedly religious country. Yet we are bitterly divided and not very civil with each other.

Lamott: I believe that against all odds, grace bats last, and that little by little, in ways that may not be visible for awhile, this polarization will heal. For my part, I pray not to be so self-righteous, and to keep remembering that we are all one family.

 This is Jay again.  So, on this 20^th anniversary day of 9-11, as you recall the events of that day and of the months and years following, please also remember that “Grace bats last,” and that we truly are all one family.  And take that truth into the present as you navigate this uncertain world of COVID, freaky weather, political turmoil, polarization, and tragedy.  Notice the beauty that surrounds you.  Notice the work of God as He works through His people to redeem the creation.  Notice the love of God as he calls us to Himself.

 May God bless his creation this day and bless us, the crowning glory of that creation.