Pilgrims



Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, "Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?: And I said, "Here am I; send me!"

~Isaiah 6:8


Thursday, July 8, 2010

Quieting the inside noise

I have been spending this summer learning about prayer - particularly about Centering Prayer. More on that will come in a future blog post once I have absorbed and digested all I am processing. In the meantime I came across the most awesome poem that speaks to where I am right now in my journey. I never really thought about the danger of "spiritual materialism" - that desire to repeat spiritual experiences just for the sake of acquiring them the same as we would acquire other goods. It didn't occur to me that this could actually begin to build a wall between myself and my Master. So that is what I am processing through right now, how to become pure in the cave of my heart as well as the cave I occupy on earth...

This poem is by Rabindranth Tagore:

Time after time


I came to your gate with raised hands,
asking for more and yet more.


You gave and gave, now in slow measure, now
in sudden excess.


I took some, and some things I let drop; some
lay heavy on my hands;


Some I made into playthings and broke them
when tired;


Till the wrecks and hoards of your gifts grew
immense, hiding you, and the ceaseless
expectation wore my heart out.

Take, oh take - has now become my cry.

Shatter all from this beggar's bowl;


Put out the lamp of the importunate
watcher


Hold my hands, raise me from the
still gathering heap of your gifts

Into the bare infinity of your uncrowded

Presence

Monday, June 14, 2010

Micah 6:8

Micah 6:8 is a tiny scripture in word count, but a towering mountain in Word meaning. As Mike Moses told us this week at worship, Micah 6:8 stands tall amongst other scripture when we are reading to understand how we should live as Godly people.

I love this scripture - it is a prime example of the paradox of the Word. On a surface level it appears simple enough, but the very nature of the statement draws the reader in to savour and chew on the meaning. Three simple phrases combined in such a way that we realize, just as with the Trinity itself, to follow their direction requires a unique intertwining that creates a completeness that can't be accomplished when held separately.

Do Justice, Love Mercy, Walk Humbly...this is how we are to live.

The first thing to jump out at me as I read this scripture is the associated verb with each noun. DO justice, LOVE mercy, WALK humbly. How do I DO justice? What does it mean to LOVE mercy? And how do I WALK humbly?

It seems that each of these three expectations are dependent on each other, and while justice and humility have outward definable actions, it is the mercy that gently weaves between them creating a magical tapestry.

It is interesting that the prophet did not say SHOW mercy - he said LOVE mercy. Loving mercy is an inward, soul defining action. You must LOVE mercy with such a passion that it exudes your every action. When you LOVE mercy, there are no questions to what you should do in any situation...and when you LOVE mercy doing justice and walking humbly are natural outcomes.

If I LOVE mercy, my natural inclination will be to help those who are the weak and vulnerable and in need of mercy. In order to gain their trust I must WALK humbly, never implying that they are any less of a person than I am. Once in this relationship of trust, I can better understand cicumstances and issues that might improve or prevent continued vulnerability - and then I can DO justice by helping to bring awareness to injustices that exist.

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Lessons From My Father

Today my father will make that journey from the comforting presence of his family to the comforting arms of his Saviour.

This past week as I have sat beside my daddy and reflected on our memories I can see the impact that his unspoken actions have had on my own value system.

My dad was a true "Scots-Irish" character. Not one to waste anything - including words - he was forthright and brief with his opinions (unless of course he was telling a joke or a story, in those cases he instead drew the listener in and played with them while his eyes twinkled and he waited for just the right moment to deliver the punch line). No - my dad was much more effective in teaching through his actions. So here are a few of the life lessons I will always remember from my dad.

1. Honor your parents. I will always remember the weekly trips my father made to his parents. When they were still in their home he took care of all their yard work. Later when my grandma was living with my aunt he made sure we were all there each Sunday to visit and bring her favorite treat of "Klondike" ice cream bars (which also just happened to be his favorite as well).

2. Stand for your convictions, but don't belittle those who disagree with you. This is a lesson I think we could use more of today. Again, harkening to his Irish roots, my dad had very strong political opinions. While he would never sway from his beliefs, and always enjoyed verbally sparring with others (especially my uncle on my mothers side who had completely opposing views), he generally managed to leave the argument on good terms with his opponent. Somehow a wink and a smile and a general understanding to "agree to disagree" were everpresent tools in his arsenal.

3. When life hands you lemons - make lemonade. One of the strongest character traits of my dad was his determination to move forward. He never sat and wallowed or complained about circumstances. That is not to say he wasn't angry or upset, but rather that he wouldn't let anything stop him from moving forward. At a particularly difficult time in his life when his career was in shambles, my dad just moved forward finding a way to still support our family (even digging ditches in hard manual labor at the age of 54 for a brief period). Nothing was beneath him to work to provide for our family and this determination actually resulted in a better circumstance that provided for his retirement.

4. Always say "I love you". This is a lesson my dad himself learned later in life. He was raised in a family that never much expressed physical emotions and so tender expressions were not something he was comfortable with. But God uniquely placed this "mans man" in a family of all women. This exposure brought out that tenderness that was buried deep inside and gradually wore down that gruff exterior. When I was in my early 40's at a cousin's funeral,my dad realized that he needed to tell us he loved us. From that day forward, my father never concluded a phone call or visit without a big "I LOVE YOU". It was like the flood gates had opened and he couldn't hold back.

5. The most important "sense" is your sense of humor. I think more than anything my father taught us to always, in any circumstances, be able to see the humor in life. That unique ability to view any life circumstance with an eye to the irony or humor is something I will cherish from my dad. There is nothing more valuable than laughter in life...

Thank you daddy for these lessons you have taught. I will miss you terribly but will be comforted knowing you will be in a better place.

I LOVE YOU!

Saturday, May 8, 2010

A Mother's Heart

Tomorrow is Mother's Day.

Recent events have pushed me this year to reflect more deeply on the strength and resiliancy required for a mother's heart. There is a unique bond between mother and child that can not be described to anyone who has not experienced carrying a life inside their body and then through the miracle of birth releasing them to the world. A mother's heartbeat through the gestation process provides the life source for this child, and once that cord is severed a mother's heart must beat differently - separately - but still in rhythm with that child's every need.

A mother's heart must be strong enough to absorb hurts and disappointments.

A mother's heart must be tender enough to provide mercy in times of pain.

A mother's heart must be resiliant enough to mend the breaks and tears of brokeness.

A mother's heart must be loving enough to withstand the storms of rebellion and still reach with outstretched arms.

A mother's heart must be patient enough to let each day stand for itself.

These past months my mother's heart has been through the wringer...and sometimes I have been afraid to see the "EKG" of that beat pattern. I imagine there have been moments of flatlines and other moments of erratic peaks. But through it all, I have felt God's presence, His special "love notes", his unique defibrillator that has placed my mother's heart back in rhythm.

This past week, as we reached the climax of a particularly difficult crisis with my son, I especially found that the Lord was sending messages through His Word. But what is most perplexing is that the scriptures I was lead to each day were not specifically for my mother's heart, but rather were perfect Word for my son. The irony - one of God's favorite tools I think - is that right now these words of scripture would not be "heard" in my son's own heart, so I must store them in my own for safekeeping. They are treasures that must be protected and released when they will arrive on fertile ground. So I am reminded of another mother, the most awesome earthly mother, who also kept special treasures stored in her heart for some future moment in time. Luke 2 v 10 tells us that after the shepherds came and told of their vision from the angels, Mary "treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart."

I can relate to Mary on this Mother's Day...

Friday, April 16, 2010

Living In The Moment

I am sitting in a strange time, sandwiched between a crisis of my father’s health and a crisis of my son’s poor decisions. Two opposite stages of life’s spectrum pushing at me as I am caught in the middle trying to be a good child and responsible parent at the same time.

God’s irony is not lost on me that my father and my son - who even have very similar dispositions – are leaning on each other during this time, mutually dependent for survival. I consider it a small blessing that my son is able right now to assist with the care of my father – and through this experience I am praying that my son will mature. So in this particular blessing I do see the handiwork of God, and I can feel the certainty that we are travelling in God’s greater story. As I reflect on this specific congruence of circumstances I have a glimpse of understanding that I must always be searching for where the connections are to God’s story rather than where He is connecting to mine.

Yesterday’s events gave me specific understanding of what “Living in the Moment” really means.

Having spent the morning with my father as we travelled to yet another doctor appointment, I noticed how my 89 year old father spends his “awake” time. Limited now to life in a wheelchair, with need of attendants for every human function, and suffering from dementia, it is difficult to imagine life from inside my dad’s psyche. This one-time “macho” man – policeman, sportsman, joke-telling Irishman- now spends his days barely speaking, mostly sleeping, and at the total mercy of those who care for him and their decisions for how he will spend his day.

Here is a survival tip I am learning from my dad – live only in the moment. Take each individual second and absorb it completely before it passes on.

I watched my father yesterday as we were seated in the waiting room, very attentively observing his surroundings, deeply concentrating on every printed poster, picture or person in his immediate surroundings. He was capturing the moments…not to store them for future reference, because the dementia has robbed him of that delight, but to live them for what they are in and of themselves. Fleeting moments that happen then move on. This morning I came to these words from Psalm 144 (v4) that seemed to capture my dad’s current state:
Man is like a breath;
His days are like a fleeting shadow

My dad has given me a glimpse of understanding of our positioning in God’s story.
Another shadow of learning came from the opposite side of the spectrum as I spent the afternoon in a different type of office with my son. As we work through a personal crisis of my son’s, a result of living too much in the moment without consideration of consequences or dangers, I see the second half of the equation.

While my father’s situation is like “breathing in” the moment, life requires a two-part action in order to survive. There is also the essential “breathing out” through our active responses to the moments of life. As we “breathe in”…observe and concentrate without taking for granted any of our surroundings…we must then “breathe out” in response to this glory we have observed. Our outward responses must be cognizant of the blessings we are surrounded with that impulsive and self serving actions can destroy.

So God, I thank you for this strange place you have placed me in to be able to observe and learn from these two men in my life. I am “breathing in” your glory and your love, working to absorb your wonder; and “breathing out” my amazement that even in these stressful circumstances you provide insight and comfort that “this too shall pass” in the fleeting shadow of life.

One day a great promise will be fulfilled with complete joy and understanding. Until that time I must continue “breathing in” and “breathing out” these moments of life.