Sunday's are considered mini-Easters and are not counted. But since you are here please consider making a donation to our Lenten fundraiser. We are collecting socks or donations to make 100 bags for our community.
Socks & Soul.
0 Comments
“I want to be a dandelion.” I’ll admit it’s a strange thing to say, but I do. Sure this is not first thing that comes to mind for most kids when they’re asked what they want be when they grow up. Nor is it something one aspires to or puts on a resume. Kids want to be rugged cowboys and brave princesses. And grown ups – powerful CEO’s and technology gurus. I want to be a dandelion, not a robotics scientist ninja. Which is why it hurts me when people call others “dandelions” as a means to insult them. It is often used as a derogatory word to describe those who seem weak, or who fall apart too easily with the littlest and lightest of effort. I wouldn’t say that about myself, nor would others who know me. This is not to say a dandelion doesn’t possess those qualities. It doesn’t take much more than exhaling to make a single living object fall apart. And as any kid knows, that’s the beauty of them, right? Just yank them out of the ground and blow as hard as you can. Don’t’ forget to make a wish! But if you really think about it, this is more of a defense mechanism than a sign of weakness. Instead of destroying the flower, you actually create more. One single breath brings life to millions of generations of dandelions. It’s not a design flaw; it’s a creative stroke of Divine genius. The more they beat you down, the greater you become. Think about it, it’s true strength in its weakness. Tough and resilient, it is able to adapt to any situation or environment, and thrive! Not even death can stop it from coming back again. It really is the best example of who Jesus is, and the assurance we are given about our own life when we chose to follow him. Lent is a time we challenge ourselves – our strength, endurance and faith. Even the most pious and religious practitioners often have trouble staying on focus with their fast. As you step one day further in your journey, and you begin to see the signs that your fasting is about to ready to fall apart, don’t give up. Instead, be the dandelion. Let those broken pieces float with the Holy Spirit and drop into the heart of God where you can bloom and multiply a hundred times over. Jesus once said, “Truly, Truly I say to you, whoever hears my word and believes him who has sent me has eternal life. He does not come into judgment, but has passed from death to life” (John 5:24). It’s a little known fact, that after Jesus said these words he blew a dandelion in the evening sky. And the people were amazed by what they heard and saw. Prayer: Lord God, make me strong in my time of weakness. And use my brokenness for your delight, so that my faith may multiply within me, and throughout your creation. Jesus said, "you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength. The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.” - Mark 12:30-31
Telephone wires. They are everywhere. They cross my neighborhood like spider webs across my back porch doorway. While they don’t get tangled in my beard when I take the dog outside in the morning, they are equally as invasive and annoying. I have never gotten used to them. Nor I have ever been able to make them invisible or Photoshop them out of my sight despite my numerous failed attempts to do just that. But I have learned to live with them. Until this happened. I was sitting in my car in the parking lot at the gym. Not ready to get out, I took a moment for myself to say a short prayer. “God, because of your love for me I am alive today. Thank you, Amen.” Short and sweet – all that needed to be said. As I sat there, bathing in the warmth of God’s morning light, it hit me. Actually, it hit my windshield. I sat and stared at the fresh white splat for a moment before rolling my eyes upwards toward the heavens. What did I see? An old, sagging telephone line with an old, sickly pigeon calmly taking care of its business above my car. Yes, thank you God. I was still alive – living in a bird’s bathroom. Life is not like a parking space. We don’t just pull into the nearest open slot and start a life. We aren’t given a choice to decide where we are born, which home, family, or country will become ours. Life is what we are given, crap et al. However, how we live life is totally up to us. We can be like a pigeon or we can be like Christ. When asked what is the greatest commandment, Jesus answered the first is to love God, and the second is to love your neighbors as yourself. It’s pretty basic stuff. Through love, Jesus teaches, we are able to actively participate in the world in a way that is able to please both the Creator and the created. This can be difficult to do at times; especially when life dumps on you. By practicing the kind of love that God asks of us – a love that is inclusive, forgiving, and non-judgmental – can help us to bridge peace throughout our communities. It allows us to live in harmony with God and others in spite of where we reside. I wonder if this love applies to pigeons? Especially to the one mocking me from above. So, I prayed for guidance. After all Jesus says, “If you abide in me and my words abide in you, ask anything from the Father and it will be given to you” (John 15:7). Ironic isn’t it, that in an age of satellite communication, prayer is still the best way to reach God. Every word and emotion we send up in prayer moves through these invisible phone lines that crisscross the world and stretch across the galaxies, until they reach those angelic operators standing by. And do you know what the best thing is about these invisible phone lines? There’s no place for pigeons to sit and do their business. Prayer: God, thank you for loving me, and for teaching me how to love others as Jesus did. May your desire for the world be my purpose today. I offer you this prayer in Jesus' name, Amen. Amaryllis bulbs are a strange gift to give someone. It pains me to say this because they are a strong and hardy plant with an elegant and gorgeous flower. Their only problem is (in my opinion) they take a long time to mature to this beautiful state. Last Christmas we received a box from a dear friend. Inside the box was a lovely woven hemp basket that was stuffed with some kind of botanical peat moss, which seemed to be hiding something fragile. Buried under this natural padding were three unattractive lumps. And on the top was a note that simply read Merry Christmas. Per usual in our household, my wife quickly recognized the gift for what it was, and set the artistic basket aside underneath the window in our living room. Day after day, week after week, month after month I stared at those ugly lumps. Like moles growing on one’s balding head, I was some how disturbed by their presence. Yet I could not take my eyes off them. Sometimes I would sit on the couch and imagine what would grow from under this dull, khaki-colored canvas. What color might they bring? Would they be fragrant or clash with our home décor? But most of the time when I would get frustrated because like a pet to care for, I have this basket to have to look after without really getting anything in return. So yeah, Amaryllis bulbs are a strange gift; especially for a person whose time and patience is limited. Then one day, a little spear of green broke through the peat. It reminded me of a small child inside his mother’s belly, his tiny foot kicked against the protective layer to make his presence known. Just like the expected parent my excitement shifted. No longer was I staring at this basket with contempt, but with anticipation. Yet the birth cycle was not complete. So I would have to wait. And pretend that tiny green shoot wasn’t a tongue sticking out of the ground to mock me. Amaryllis bulbs make a strange gift because we want to tear open the paper, rip through the box, and begin playing with our gift immediately. But nature doesn’t always work that way. Neither does its Creator. Things take time to grow. In a world that demands instantaneous gratification, we often forget how to sit in the quiet and allow the mysteries of the world to be. This gift was a great reminder for me to simply trust that something greater was at work. And no matter how hard I prod, plead, or pray I am at the mercy of something other than my own self. What a gift it is to finally realize God is making beautiful things happen whether we know it, see it, or comprehend it. Even when we doubt, or demand immediate attention for your prayers, but hear nothing back, we have to be patient. God is at work. For you! God tells a young prophet, “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you” (Jeremiah 1:5). His story reminds us that God has a plan, but we have to patiently wait until it is revealed. As the psalmist sings, “Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10) I am the bulb in the knitted hemp basket. You are too. Together we have to sit still, covered in darkness and let God bath us in golden sunlight until that day we pop up and say, “Here I am!” We are the gift! As we stand tall, with our bloom in full display, we become a thing of real beauty; a living, growing, thriving, testimony to the divine power and mystery of our Creator. Prayer: Holy Creator, you have made us in your image and consecrated us for your purpose. Empower us to live patiently and faithfully so that we might die peacefully and beautifully, knowing like the amaryllis we will rise and live again in the Easter Resurrection. Amen. As I reflect on my Lenten journey, I am often drawn to this promise given by Jesus who said to his disciples, “In a little while you will not see me any more, and then a little while later you will see me” (Jn. 16:16). He goes to explain that there will be times of sadness and gladness, suffering and joy, and yet in it all God will be there; ever-faithful and ever-present.
Lent is a time of waiting. Because some days will be easier than others, how we wait is equally as important as what we are waiting for. We can use our time waiting passively, believing that Easter is just around the corner. Or we can wait actively, knowing that Easter has already come. In choosing to follow Christ there is no room for passive waiting any more than there is room for passive faith. As Jesus might say, there’s no time to bury the dead, or say good-bye to our family (Mt. 8:18-22). There is work to be done. So in Christ’s name we are called to live out our faith knowing today is the day that we will see him again. Just as his disciples walked with Jesus towards the cross, we too are walking with Christ right here, right now. Even as we struggle to keep our Lenten fast, we hold fast to the promise that Christ is always with us, because Christ is within us. The resurrection has already happened, and it continues to do so every day through us. Lent is an invitation to celebrate each day as if it were Easter. It is a time to actively love our neighbors, uphold justice, forgive our enemies, and live fully and faithfully to the good news of Jesus Christ. By recognizing in others the same Spirit that is within us, we are able to live out our lives in accord with the One who has already come, died and has been raised. Prayer: Lord God, be ever present in my life so that I may be your visible presence to those who seek your love, mercy and grace through Christ Jesus. Amen. *First published in Lenten Devotional 2018, for the National Association of Congregational Christian Churches |
LentTake A Forty Days Walk With Christ. ArchivesSocks And Souls
Donate to our Lenten fundraiser today. |