Bringing Faith to Life
hope
I’m taking the day off
2It's my birthday, so I'm taking the day off from worrying... about the state of the earth, whether it's terminal about the state of the nation, whether it's fixable about the state of our politics, whether they're resolvable. I am exempting myself... from chores unless I want to do them from duties unless I care to accept them from stuff that screams PAY ATTENTION! Worry and responsibility have been distracting me from what it's clear I should be celebrating ... -- the wonderful friends I have found -- a glorious family that abounds -- the generous gifts which resound -- the amazing world all around. Disclaimer: I know full well, it is my privilege to get to choose worry-free; because today no one is depending on me -- for food, for peace, for calm, for life. Even more then the ample reason to give thanks for this reality season; when I can't do what I used to, perhaps so I especially enjoy the things I get to. My pesky pups a'clambering to play On this sunshine-kissed spectacular day, Of course the first thing that I do, Is step right in the dog poo. Eh, shake it off, fertilizer, nothing to lose, For now, I've got another pair of shoes. I wonder how many things I'd worry about less If I trusted I had what's needed to clean up the mess. On this, my birthday in 2023 thank you friends for celebrating with me. I am feeling spectacularly free, a privilege I don't take lightly.
Reach out and touch someone
0Remember this commercial?
“Reach out and touch someone,” AT&T hoped, would inspire us to give that special someone a call. Long distance was just a phone call away. Spend a little time with your friend or loved one. They’re worth it.
That was before cell phones and the internet made everyone feel like they were in your living room even though they weren’t. No need to reach out when we’re all right here!
Yesterday, I got a call from someone scheduling a service appointment. (That’s the way they do things here in Williamsburg — they call. No text. No email.) She was apologetic. Hadn’t written down my request and now was trying to make things right. We’ve never met, but out of the blue she tells me, “You wouldn’t believe what I did yesterday.” Turns out this woman’s fishing excursion at the pier gave her a front row seat for the shooting of 4 people: 2 adults and 2 children. One of the children is in very critical condition after having been shot in the spine. “I hope he makes it,” she said.
This morning as I fumble with words to express how the world leaves me feeling these days, I have landed here on the blog with you. I am also reading a book by the late Candace Pert, PhD, called Molecules of Emotion. It addresses the bodymind network of connection and the power of our emotions to effect our physical and mental well-being. Indeed, it has called my attention to the power of the negative in our world which is stealing, not only our attention, but our health.
I had just seen headlines about this shooting because it was a “most read” item in the digital distribution of our local paper. It begged me to click… and be tormented. I started and then stopped. The woman who witnessed it now cannot stop. So much so that she is confessing it to a total stranger.
This brings me back to what I set out to do here at the KC blog. To offer a word of hope or help that originates from our physical nature. Heck, if I get stuck on something I head for my bicycle so I can get a good think. In recent days, I have started and stopped so many drafts of posts because what I have to say here seems irrelevant (perhaps even irreverent, given all the calls for thoughts and prayers) compared to all the “big” things happening in our world. What can one voice, one person, one soul offer that could possibly contend?
Suddenly, I hear the late, great Aretha Franklin calling us …
“Reach out and touch
Somebody’s hand
Make this world a better place
If you can…”
How many times has a gentle hand or a loving word touched me? These are the things that still resonate as the chemistry of memory that my “bodymind” stores. Still there to lift me up. There to supply. There to inspire. Surely, there to drown out the sounds of hopelessness that pervade our headlines. There is always a reason for hope. It comes to us one touch at a time as we offer it one person at a time.
Who is the one who reached out and touched you? May we all go and do likewise.
Stay in the presence of God
0I love the way you worship, I told him.
Because I did.
I enjoyed the freedom he had
to raise his hands
shout his praise
demonstrate his love of God Almighty.
I get embarrassed, I told him.
Because I do.
I worry about what others might think
if they saw me with raised hands
speaking out
demonstrating my love.
I love the way you worship, I told him.
But … How?
How do you dismiss
what others might think
what others might say
how they might react to your free expression?
He said:
Stay in the presence of God.
When your mind wanders
Stay in the presence of God.
When your heart questions
Stay in the presence of God.
When your spirit darkens
Stay in the presence of God.
When your strength fails
Stay in the presence of God.
Stay.
Where you are.
Where God is.
Hovering over you
A covering over you
Protecting you
flames will not burn you
waters will not overwhelm you.
Stay and worship.
A love like no other
1
Sometimes there is a friend, early on, say, in high school, who writes in your yearbook. Pages and pages, continued here and then over there, with a message that defies time and space.
Dispensing with the cursory, superficial gibberish, this friend heads straight for the truth with words so profound that, at 17 years old, you actually transcribe them so you can call on them again and again. Each time you do, they speak something new.
They planted a seed in me then, and now they reverberate through the ages. It’s as if Jesus Himself spoke to me through this friend.
Today, I have a special prayer for you: I hope that you find fulfillment, and that you are at peace with yourself and God. Because that is what I think is most important, what gives meaning and direction. His love is so great, Dear One, that the very thought of someone who loves me that much, in spite of the cursory lip service and lack of time I give Him makes me cry almost in shame and in joy.
There are so many pressures. After all, you will only be happy if you get straight A’s, hit .400, play at every game, go to every party, attend every Prom, lose 10 pounds, get accepted to five colleges, win a scholarship that covers tuition, room and board, and more or less win honor and glory in every endeavor.
But you don’t have to. Even if you hit .155 or sit in McDonald’s on Homecoming night, or fail every class, God loves you and is proud of you anyway. And that alone is enough to give you courage to stay up an extra hour studying, or keep running for office, or whatever. Someone who loves you so totally deserves never to be let down.
All of my love.
Imagine a love like this…
First we must stand
07 years
Walking,
it’s as natural as breathing.
Put one foot in front of the other.
Move it on out.
It wasn’t always this way.
Once, we couldn’t hold our head up,
couldn’t roll over
couldn’t sit without toppling
couldn’t rock on all fours
could not even crawl.
Imagine,
there was a time
when we were stuck in one place,
couldn’t move without help,
needed someone to pick us up
and carry us.
We went where they took us,
when they took us,
had no say in the matter,
just happy we got to go
for a ride.
But once we got creeping
and then on to crawling,
we were going places,
places on our own,
pulling our self up,
cruising along the coffee table,
going who knows where?
didn’t care.
What if you let go?
who SAID that?
What if you let go?
are you CRAZY?
What if you let go?
with both hands?!
What if you let go?
I let go
and there I stood.
Look at me!
and then, I went!
one foot, then the other…
Where am I going?
Moving on out…
Falling
getting up, and
getting up again,
rolling, rocking,
toppling, crawling,
creeping, cruising,
pulling up to
standing.
Walking,
it’s as natural as breathing.
Put one foot in front of the other.
Move it on out.
We are all learning to walk.
First we must stand.
Punch holes in your fears
3Fear hovers like fog.
It gathers, hesitates, stays.
We read what confirms.
See, I am right to be afraid;
I have reason to fear.
Light dims
Pulling up our covers, to
our hideout, our cocoon, our tent.
Safety suffocates…
if not self imposed,
then self-perpetuated.
Punch holes in what frightens you.
Not with fists,
but with learning,
with truth,
with prayer,
by conversation with a trusted confidante.
Pepper your fears with puncture.
Then, look through them
to what they’ve been hiding:
the life God imagines for you.
Step into it.
Out of the Dust There is Life
07 years
by wlebolt
in Christian, culture, current events, faith, hope, In Action, Life, relationship, Sermon Response
When my girls were small, I had magical healing powers. I could kiss a scrape or bandage a cut and presto! It would be “all better.” They would smile and go back to playing. Today, these girls are young women, and I no longer have that power. They spend their days working hard in places far from home, and when they hurt they’re on their own. They’re old enough to know that kisses do not work long distance, only in person.
I’m grateful that my girls know that Christ can be such a person, thanks to Sunday school teachers, worship leaders, mentors and pastors. Thank goodness, because the world my kids navigate is very different from the one I grew up in. It’s different, even, than the one they knew as children. Today, it seems, there is more shouting and posturing, more blatant hatred and prejudice, and more evident disrespect for persons and planet on a global scale. Nearly everywhere there is rubble, covered in dust.
This is the world my children have inherited from me, and the world I receive today in news, navigation and neighborhood. So many dusty images flood my mind, of collapse and heartbreak, earthquake and explosion, fire and flood, with medics and rescue personnel searching desperately for survivors.
In Mexico City recently, the collapse of buildings brought rescue efforts to the scene of a school. Oh children, especially children — the weakest, youngest and most promising among us — bid us to pause… hoping, waiting, listening, praying.
How in the midst of all of our commotion can we hear a tiny cry, barely a breath? But when together we pause and a hush falls, we do hear it. Then suddenly there is furious digging, hand to hand and shoulder to shoulder, cobbling through earth and stone and rubble to reach the tiny one before it’s too late.
Shovelfuls of earth yield to hands which brush away dirt and debris as the small, still form is lifted to safety. Silence doesn’t dare hope. But suddenly, there are shouts: “The child is alive!” Oh, such cheering and joy must reach through tear-stained cheeks to the very ears of God. Out of the dust there is life.
Hope is there when brother acknowledges brother, father welcomes son, and foe becomes friend. When we all gather with one cause, one intention, and one mission, our hopes are realized. We do this for our children, for all children.
“Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins
and will raise up the age-old foundations;
You will be called Repairer of Broken Walls,
Restorer of Streets with Dwellings.” (Isaiah 58:12)
The business of rebuilding the ancient foundations falls to us. We will be called repairer of broken walls, restorer of streets with dwellings. Dwellings where our children can raise their children, with loving care tendered to kiss scraped knees, and all children can play together.
Lord, thank you for the resilience and tenacity of children. Help us to love them well by providing sturdy support and a firm foundation on which they can build.
Only Love Can Do This
2God doesn’t ever hope.
God is hope.
God doesn’t ever learn.
God is knowledge.
God isn’t ever uncertain.
God is certainty.
God doesn’t need faith.
Doesn’t have to wait.
God sees fully
and is fully patient.
God doesn’t look for us.
God sees us.
God is love.
Love creates.
Love adds without subtracting.
Love multiplies without dividing.
Only love can do this.
How Long Does it Take to Grow Up?
17 years
by wlebolt
in Body, Christian, Cool Science, God, hope, Life, love, relationship, Sermon Response, Spirit
Mommy, when you are a hundred, will you be as tall as the clouds?
This, my little daughter asks me from her seat on the swing in our backyard. Her sweet up-turned face looks past me to the billowing clouds overhead. To her, growing up means growing taller so she can reach the monkey bars unassisted and ride all the rides at the theme park. Surely 100 years should be enough to reach those clouds, she concludes.
While our growing taller comes to an end during our teens and early twenties, our growth doesn’t stop then; it merely goes undercover. Throughout our lives, our bodies are busy reshaping, remodeling and renewing themselves, not only to heal after injury or illness but as a regular practice. Cellular turnover is part of our programming.
This notion always came as a surprise to the students in my anatomy class who, though quite a bit more advanced than my small daughter, generally assumed that once they stopped growing up they started growing old. Actually, there’s a whole lot of reconstruction going on.
Even our bones, which seem the deadest of things thanks to archaeological excavations and Halloween decorations, are active and changing our whole lives long. Even when they aren’t growing longer, they’re growing stronger in response to the pushes, pulls and pressures they endure. It’s the beauty of weight-bearing exercise. We’re designed to fortify ourselves. What breaks down gets rebuilt, only stronger, given sufficient time, good design and quality building materials. We are always undergoing renovation.
We call this maturation, and I’m pretty sure it’s meant to be a total make-over of body, mind and soul.
Kids think that once they’ve grown up they’re grown-ups, figuring they may have some “filling out” to do but otherwise they’re ready to take on the world. We, who have spent some time in the maturing phase, know that the growing never stops. Though we’re not getting any taller, we’re always remodeling and reorganizing: filling in gaps, replacing old notions, and fortifying things in light of new information.
We who have reached our full height are meant to be filling in: building spiritual muscle, agility and fortitude as God reshapes it along with our minds, hearts and souls. We are clay in the hands of the potter, teaches Jeremiah 18. A contemporary retelling might call us plastic, hardened at room temperature, but pliable at God-temperature.
God’s not done with us yet. That’s such very good news. God’s continually defining and refining, affirming and growing us, inside out, as we will let Him. That’s not just for our own good, but for the good of all of our relationships, including the precious ones we have with the generations to come.
They’re sure to ask us in Sunday school or confirmation class, around the dinner table or after ball practice, on their graduation day or on their wedding day, “Mom and Dad, do your think you’ll ever be able to touch the sky?” They ask, not because they really think we will, but because they want to. And they can’t see ever doing it without us.
Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. ~ 2 Corinthians 4:16-18
Oh my yes, little girl, there’s every chance I will reach those clouds because, thanks to God, we’re both still growing.