Friends & Loved Ones

Sometimes, I need to trust God with a friend.
Sometimes, I need to trust God for a friend.

Sometimes, I need to trust God with a loved one.
Sometimes, I need to trust God for a loved one.

But, always, I need to trust.

When I fail to trust like this (always)
I will risk harm - harming them,
Clouding their view of God, obscuring
His presence.

The Lord is near. 

(Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God of hosts.  The whole earth is filled with His glory.)

The Lifted Veil

"But their minds were hardened. For to this day ... that same veil remains unlifted, because only through Christ is it taken away ...  But when one turns to the Lord, the veil is removed.  Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.  And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit."

 (Paul the Apostle - to the Corinthians)

Join me, won't you, in beholding the glory of the Lord?  

Important Things (or, of things holy)

It is important to skip small rocks across a pond, to climb a hill on all four, stand up tall and sing a song.  It is important to plant hydrangeas and pansies, and in a meadow pick daisies.  It is important to drink the sun in a raspberry patch, to scoop into your mouth red or black.  It is important to barefoot tread in cool mud, along laughing, gurgling streams; to climb a tree, rough skinned, it is important to scrape your knee.  It is important to heal the skin, important for the sin.  It is important to take some time, important to be well, important to hear it is okay, and important to believe. It is important to gather a happy toddler into your arms, and important to hold a crying daughter.   It is important to rub the back of a sleeping boy and hug him still when he’s a man.  It is important to bake biscotti and serve iced tea, to care for the elderly; to swab a brow with furrows tilled on aged face and heart. It is important to gently touch her traveled feet, to massage with love, with lightest balm and richest lavender, what toil calloused, to gaze into her face, to watch silent words spill like flickering sunbeams from blue eyes, to know a grandmother at the end.  It is important to dig a grave for your dog when he is done, and it is important to snuggle a kitten who was born. It is important to bow in worship, important to fall in adoration, prone upon the dirt. It is important to let yourself be gathered up like a basket of blossoms and held near, treasured for being, for simply being.  It is important to feel the brush of friendship upon your cheek, it is important to let it touch your heart.  It is important to sit with a friend, for hours immeasurable and meandering talks, until long shadows from a retiring sun gather like piles of quilts, reminding we are snug and warm, and tomorrow’s hope will come again.   It is important to write to live well; it is important to breathe to sing the anthem well, to sing what is worth singing.  It is important to dance with hair unfurled, to twirl amidst the holy.  It is important to embrace the person embracing, to know you touch the image of God, in part.  So many things important, so many things holy, so much to ponder, for which to give thanks. Oh, come with me, we'll pull up a bit of earth and lie down flat and worship a little while longer.

Lack, Want, or Fulfillment?

"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want."
I've been hanging here the past week.
Been coming here like a sheep, looking for something.
Guess, if I follow the analogy through, I must be looking for grass.
Actually, what really happened was I slowed down long enough to pray, "Lord, where should I be reading in the scriptures?"
Psalm 23:1 came immediately into my thoughts.
Okay.  So, here I am.
The cool thing about meditating on a single verse, especially one that introduces an entire passage, is on one hand, it sets the scene or piques curiosity for what follows, but, better still, it positions our souls for contemplation - for attentively perceiving a thing - and for being altered, or changed, in some essential, truth-filled way.  So, I'm hanging here with the idea of "Lord," "my," "shepherd," and "want" that's been met.

Here's what's been seeping into my thoughts this week:
The language itself, the imagery, its metaphor takes time to unfold, but I see that it was written purposefully in the present tense.  "The Lord is ... "
We're talking real time, as in present reality.
And, then, pausing to contemplate "Lord," who he is, his nature - everything about him, and, in particular, that antecedent, shepherd.  
Oh, Shepherd - carefully, faithfully tending, guarding, leading, rescuing - never abandoning his sheep.  Me, little lamb.  (baa)
Yes, Baaaaaa. ;)
It's the nature of sheep to bleat.  Sometimes it's all too comical, sometimes it sounds all too tragic, but what amazing thing ought we really see?  It is this:  A unique relationship exists between shepherd (Lord) and sheep (his own children).  It implies a particular rest, an attachment, a trust and an obedience.  It implies a living, breathing exchange between the keeper and the kept.
And in the midst of that relationship, in the midst of the leading and the following, something astounding occurs:  the lack of want.  
You know, we could take a stoic view here, or a gnostic view, and determine that the wanting (or need) is no friendly aspect and should be barred entrance to the transcendent life - valued only when negated. But I dare say that sheep need literal green grass, and fresh waters and literal protection and guardianship, and, sometimes, even rescuing.  And the shepherd comes through - every time.
It's in the relationship that he does this. It's in the interacting, and it's all about his faithful watch, his pursuit.  
I've been a naughty sheep.  But I've been rescued, once and for good, and, sometimes, time and time again.
My Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
God, keep me today - everyday, as your own.  Amen.

God, Pretense & Cynicism

Pretense leads to cynicism, as a matter of course. The pretender suppresses truth, and, so is left without a remedy and resolution for sin's reality (reality which, for unspoken reasons, s/he believes is better left ignored). However, it is only a matter of time that the one without recourse or remedy becomes the cynic. Such a one needs God's specific care. This is a profound reality, as only God's grace confronts deeply and entirely and offers freedom to the pretender who, from constant use of pretense, now thoroughly doubts the possibility of something real, let alone deeply good and even true.

Jesus had much to say about these things: His word, the Truth, believing and doing truth, and freedom, and, the funny thing is, it seems like He often mentioned these ideas in the context of an invitation. If you will, take a moment and google a few scriptures. They are wonderful scriptures for meditation; I pray that you'll see what I mean. (John 8:31-32; John 15; Matthew 11:25-30)

The point is, God does not leave the pretender or the cynic without resolution.  Such resolution is found in Christ, the Son of God, the crucified One, slain for all, though all will not believe.  Yet, He was slain - not in cynicism or pretense, but in Truth.  May His humility and love rescue rebel hearts, and in the rescuing, may we be amazed at His wonder, His grace.  Amen.

Sunday Thots

"And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth; we have beheld his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father." (John 1:14)
We are made of clay. I think that it is why Jesus taught us stories with real objects. If you know the greater story at all, you will know it is why He incarnated Himself into this drama.  In other words, Jesus is not an abstraction.
But how can I see, smell, or touch His glory?
Periodically, after a summer storm, a bow of banded colors spreads like unfurled valor across the neighboring field, with a 3-D promise - Rainbow! (Oh, how I hope when it does that you go running for a loved one, to say, "Hey, Look! It's a rainbow! Wow."  Or, at least, pause in reverent awe.)  Or, have we noticed the scent of honeysuckle that hangs heavily on the drops of humidity. Or cedar breath, or pine, along the shoreline? Or have we heard waves thundering wildly, only to watch them rush like a teeming tease, purring and prancing now like kittens at our toes, tickling and licking. Or, have we known the touch of a gentle hand on a sore or weary spot.
Do we see the glory?  Do we participate with it, or are we stones, immovable, unfeeling? (If we are without feeling, without freedom to move near, to rise up and to grasp hold of the glory of God in even small ways -- like the child too small to reach the top of the gate to peer beyond at the stamping stallion -- please do not despair.  It all is an act of grace, to behold.  I think that it begins with becoming still, and turning our faces toward God who thought of you (and me) in the first place.  And in turning toward Him, in recognizing dependence, the capacity to live fully gets restored (renewed).  Read the Scriptures, the theme of such is written throughout them.)
To touch upon this idea a bit more, the idea of idea incarnated, specifically, of God's glory in minute measure, and even more particularly, I am reminded of love.
I find it particularly easy to make an abstraction out of love, but particularly difficult to scrub the toilet. Yet Jesus was brave. Yes, Jesus was unflinchingly brave. He bled on two crossed beams. He hung there for hours in humility. There the abstraction ends. But, can I hear, and grab hold of His words, "Come to me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest"? Luke 11:28
This, my friends, is no abstraction either - the touch of the Savior's hand on a sore and weary spot, no matter how deep it goes.  No matter.