Bringing Faith to Life
Archive for August, 2016
When did prayer become fast food?
0Three times a day, need it or not.
Gotta eat. Gotta pray.
Gotta get some energy to
carry me through the day.
God is great,…
Do we say it in the drive through?
At the bus stop? In the lunch line?
On the job? On the run?
Here’s a bagel, forget the plate;
Hurry up kids, we’re running late!
God is good,…
Do we say it over Starbucks?
pull a snack from our desk drawer?
guzzle Red Bull, just one more?
At quitting time; I’m finally free,
to raid the frig and take care of me.
Now we thank Him for our food, …
Say it over TV dinner?
homework calling,
sister balling,
screens alerting,
newscaster blurting,
watch the game,
evening news it’s all the same.
Wait, wait, let’s
take a minute here.
Something’s coming.
All stand clear.
I’ve been caught up in the fray,
Something’s calling me back to pray.
Look, look, the
Majesty that I’m wearing,
Quite unique, even call it daring,
Behold the machinery within,
Buffets me, begs me to begin.
Somewhere deep in the far away,
I remember what I want to say:
God is great.
God is good.
Let us thank Him
for our food.
Amen.
Doing the Shuffle
08 years
I walked past the shuffleboard courts this morning. Empty, as they have been since I arrived and as I trust they will be when I leave. It’s an old person’s game, I guess. No cue’s or disks around or I might have taken a turn, just to see if I could still gauge the distance and the speed to stop the disc right where I wanted. Whether I still had the touch, the finesse and the feel of the game.
Are we even teaching that these days? The touch and the finesse? The give with the take? The push and the pull? Where do we develop the moderate hand that senses just how much is needed to nudge the other aside but leave my disk centered in the scoring triangle?
“Stay off the courts” it says. Oh, okay.
I suppose it’s a game for old men, a pastime whose time has passed. Maybe it’s moved indoors where folks don’t have to deal with the sand and the sun and the gawkers passing by.
I’ll come by later and see if I can find a game.
Suddenly Still
0Stillness is a shock to the system.
The screeching of tires, the squealing of wheels, the swerving and maneuvering to get out of the way. When the smoke clears and the dust settles, it takes a bit of righting to find balance. Turns out, forward momentum can keep you upright through pretty much any squall, but stillness…now THAT requires full attention.
Nothing propels you forward but your determination.
Nothing holds you back but your inertia.
Nothing prevents you falling, but your course corrections. Be aware of your surroundings. Be sure of your footing. Have your compass handy.
Nothing moves you forward but your own efforts.
Stillness is a sock in the gut and a kick in the pants. It’s not the friendly place you once knew, it’s the firm place you now need.
It’s amazing what stillness brings into focus.
Hands Free Viewing for a One Time Show
3Trust me?
Leave your phone, your notebook, and your water bottle behind.
Just you and me around the lake this morning.
Can you do this?
But what if the sunrise is spectacular?
My sunrise is not meant for you to preserve,
distribute or reproduce.
But what if there are words to record?
My words will be there,
when you return.
But what if I’m thirsty?
There’s a fountain part way around,
but you won’t need it.
So, out the door,
down the steps,
along the ramp
and through the archway I go.
Onto the path that encircles the lake.
There, there in the East is the glow.
The shadows deep, growing pink on the waters,
the geese and the swans, silhouetted against it all,
going about their morning as if this happens every day.
But I, I the intruder,
the visitor from out of town,
pause at the spectacle and smile at the cast.
Behold, the Premier! the one and only showing of
Sunrise. Today. For me.
Tears. Tears of joy.
This is a mere yawn
for the Creator of the Dawn.
Rounding the bend,
the action in the eastern sky is obscured by trees, hills and shoreline.
Wait! Don’t go!
I race around the bend but, alas,
I’m too small to see it.
Too near to perceive it.
Look away, my child.
There, in the away,
by the light of the sun just risen,
I see the day.
Take nothing with you, said He.
Nothing to encumber. Hands free.
Let me show you the Glory meant for you.
Just the two of us, here in the morning, on the mountain, around the lake.
What can I do in the face of a God who loves me like that?
but trust?
another morning
Why do we edit God out?
7Just wondering.
Simone Manuel – photo credit NBC News
I watched Simone Manuel finish first in the 100 meter freestyle in Olympic record time then turn to look at the score board and put her hand over her mouth in utter surprise and delight. That girl just performed a miracle as far as she’s concerned, and in her after-swim interview, the first words out of her mouth were…
“All I can say is all glory to God.”
She went on, “It’s definitely been a long journey these last four years,” and as her voice began to break, “I’m just so blessed to have a gold medal.”
What a moment for this young woman! The first African-American to win an individual medal in USA Olympic swimming competition. She knows the weight of her position and the responsibility it holds. She has a voice on the highest platform, to address all those children of color who may now aspire to do what they wouldn’t otherwise have considered possible. All Glory to God, indeed.
So I’m surprised when I watch clips of her interview, shared on tv, online and on social media, that they begin with …”This is significant. You are the first African-American woman to medal … what does this mean to you, Simone?”
“This medal is not just for me…”
And the reporters are off with the story of the woman who inspires, the symbol of a movement, the focal point of a message. All to the good, but why do we skip to the “good” part? Why do we edit God out?
I know journalists do this. We edit for time and space and message. We cut out the fluff so we can focus on the nuggets. But in this young woman’s case, I think we may have missed the first point she was making. God made me as I am, and I’m good, thanks to Him.
Can we please start at the beginning, where she began? where we all began? which is why what she says and does matters and why what we say and do matters?
Thank you, Simone, for your heart for God and your courage to say so.
All glory to God.
I am the vine, and you …
0This vine was entwined in my laces after my morning run. Look what unfolded!