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Sunday grace

Jun14

There is tension in the world and I’m very uncomfortable with it all.

My enneagram number is Nine, categorized as the peacemaker, the one who avoids conflict at all costs, who just wants everyone to get along. If Nine were symbolized as an animal, it would be a golden retriever, wagging its tail and wanting to be friends with everyone.

I’ve distanced myself from the news and social media after days of too much information, dark threatening words, and anger that morphs into hatred. I want everyone to get along.

But that is not the world where I live. It never has been. Conflict existed the day Cain met his brother Able in a field. There were wars and rumors of wars since people groups settled into their own communities and discovered that their neighbors were not like them.

I’ve listened to podcasts and read blog posts about the racial divide. I’ve heard sermons and people of all colors give opinions about the direction we need to go. No one has the answer, though some think they do.

I was a child when I first became aware of integration in my small corner of the world. I remember the first time I saw a black couple sitting in our family’s favorite restaurant. They were dressed in their Sunday best, like we were, and I thought they must have been to church, like us.

I once worked for a company whose staff were mostly white. Phyllis and I were at opposite ends of the building, but we found each other and built a relationship. We met early in the morning and in the break room for coffee, talking about our lives, our children, our faith.

I remember the difference in our hair texture and the contrast of her skin next to mine. It didn’t matter to either of us. We shared a kinship and we were friends.

The one and only son of ours went to college. He roomed with a young man named Michael. He was our son’s best man at his wedding. He stayed at our house and with great delight rode Sweet William’s lawn tractor. He calls me his other mother. Michael is African American.

We used to visit the church where my son and his family attended when they still lived in our city. The first time there, I noticed the diverse races, how they shared in ministry and worship responsibilities. We were welcomed, and I loved the atmosphere of acceptance and the brother/sister-hood of the family of God.

The people who live in the house next door combine four different cultures in their veins. I feel sure they were hand-picked by Jesus to be our neighbors. We’ve adopted each other and they call us Aunt Peggy and Uncle Bill. They are a gift to Sweet William and me.

A woman younger than me lives nearby. She was born in another country; she is bi-lingual. She came to the United States, studied for citizenship, and is currently working to complete her college degree. She is a daughter of my heart, and I love spending time with her. When I ask her to pray, she does so in her native language, and I listen for words I recognize.

People I love are different from me.

I’ve checked on my friends during the chaos of demonstrations and riots. I’ve also message people who have police officers in their families. I’m concerned. Society can turn on the winds of public opinion, naming and blaming, dividing rather than healing.

I want to listen to people’s stories, try to understand what it’s like to live as a minority. I’ve checked out books from my library by black authors, reading to see and hear and be sensitive to the pain.

I pray for our president and leaders. They have an unspeakably difficult task. They will never be able to please all the people. There is no simple solution.

When Adam and Eve chose to ate from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, they got what they desired – the knowledge to create good and to destroy viciously. Pandora’s box opened, and they were no longer led by a peaceful and loving spirit. Thy exhaled the breath of God and inhaled something else. We still breathe the same air.

As I walk among my gardens, I see weeds popping up. It is a continual fight to keep them from taking over what I’ve worked so hard to make beautiful. I deal daily with the curse of the fall of man. It is a fight to keep peace and love in the world when sin is always present.

There is One who gives peace in the conflict, One who calms the storm of our inner turmoil. On the night of Jesus’ birth into our world, the angel army proclaimed peace on earth and good will to men. I think the angels knew it was full out war in the heavenlies.

As Christ’s ambassadors, we are called to be peacemakers and to love people. We are called to be comforters and encouragers. This is our battle cry.

Jesus compels us to love our neighbors, to go the extra mile, to show kindness and compassion, to love justice and show mercy.

We need love to invade our hearts, our homes, our city streets, our nation’s capital. This is a costly love emanating from God the Father who sacrificed Himself for the hearts of the sons and daughters of Adam and Eve. This love is active. It takes risks.

God’s love changes hearts. Jesus is the way of peace. Let us pray to walk with Him, invite others on the journey and breathe in the life-giving breath of His Spirit.

Sunday grace.

Breathe

Dec6

It’s been a full-plate kind of week, me reminding myself to breathe. We’ve had places to go and people to see, things to do and plans to finish. I’ve been up and down the stairs of our house too many times to count.

My morning devotion reminds me I am blessed. Blessed to be a blessing.  I know this in my head. Sometimes my heart forgets.

In the season of holiday frenzy, we tend to pour out, giving gifts of time and energy, until we are depleted and empty of soul.

“You must feel the fullness of your own pitcher before you trust the pouring out of yourself,” says Ann Voskamp.

Running on fumes, I call it. Sweet William reminds me to fill the gas tank in the little black Honda before it gets to a quarter tank. It’s not good for the engine, he says.

Running on fumes is not good for me either. I need to refill, refuel, reignite with the passion of love that is true Christmas.

I cannot face the day well if I have not first faced my Savior. He came to bless me with His presence.

Immanuel, God with us.

And His presence is the present I most need, the gift I want more,  the one thing I cannot live without.

In the still dark of early dawn, I quietly rest and inhale Him who is life. I absorb the Holy Word and breathe in His truth. His peace, beyond all understanding, fills my lungs. Before the day’s agenda unfolds, I am assured that I am adored and redeemed, chosen and called. I am blessed beyond counting. Blessed to be a blessing.

Again Jesus said, “Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.” And with that he breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit.”  — John 20:21-22

The Creator breathed into Adam’s lungs and he became a living soul. Jesus breathed on the disciples and said “Receive.” The Holy Spirit, the very breath of God, has come to me, to be with me, to live in me, to give me power to serve and be a blessing.

I remind myself to breathe.

Christmas grace.

 

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Oh for some quiet moments

Jun4

I am recuperating slowly. S L O W L Y. My pace may be just above that of the snails I see on the driveway. Everything, and I do mean everything, takes me twice as long and wears me out like I put in a long day’s activity.

One good thing from this experience is that I give myself those quiet moments. I have to. And sometimes, we need to be reminded that our bodies, our hearts, and our souls crave that.

Here is the perfect place to go for some quiet reflection in whatever season you find yourself. Emily P. Freeman writes and reads to us. How long since someone did that for you?

Will you join me there on her blog for a 7-day mini journey?  We may find ourselves taking a deeper breath and feeling some of the stress slip away.

7 Days for Your Soul to Catch Up With Your Body

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Breathe in, breathe out

Apr30

Whenever I start a new Bible study, you know I just have to write about it.

A beautiful group of women and I began Priscilla Shirer’s Breathe study which is helping us to a better understanding of the Sabbath.  Being a “good little church girl” who practically cut her teeth on the pews, I should know how to do Sabbath.  Right?  Not necessarily.

As a Christian, I’ve always worshiped on Sundays and considered it our “day of rest,” though I can tell you sometimes it’s been anything but restful.  I’ve spent many a week, Sundays included, going full force, never really pausing to take much of a break.  I’d go from one task to the next, from one appointment to another. There was a time I actually took pride in how much I could accomplish and was constantly tweaking my time management skills to see if I could be more efficient.  Really I was trying to see if I could squeeze in one more thing.

That was when I learned about stress.  It became the catch word in those days.  We were running fast, accomplishing more, climbing the corporate ladder, often leaving the really important things in our dust. We became workaholics, addicts to our behaviors.  Eventually we began to run out of steam.  We became sleep deprived.  Relationships languished for lack of time together.  Oh we talked about quality time over quantity time, but it was more of an excuse to keep doing what we were doing. Instead of trying to do less, we just wanted to know how to manage our stress better.  There had to be a secret way of continuing our rat race without falling over from pure exhaustion, spent and fully depleted.

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It was 2006.  I was at one of the lowest points of my life.  Financially strapped.  Emotionally drained. The future was uncertain and looked rather bleak. My insecurities filled a bushel basket.  I crowned myself “the Queen of Part-time Jobs,” working four or five of them at one time just trying to make ends meet, and perhaps to keep my mind busy so I didn’t have time to think about the state of my life.

I was the proverbial candle burning at both ends.

Enter the Sabbath principle.

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The Spirit of God convicted me about the way I was living my life.  I was acting like it all depended on me.  There had to be a change.  I determined, with the Lord’s help, to try honoring a rest day and chose Sunday after church (church was one of my part-time jobs from 7:45 am to 12 noon).  I decided I would take the remainder of the day to rest, relax and refresh.

The first week, I prepared for the challenge.  I did everything I could on the Saturday before, scurrying around to finish as much as possible before bedtime.  By Sunday afternoon, I closed my day planner, turned off the computer, and refused to do my regular work.

It was challenging that first day because I was not used to doing “nothing.”  I was a work horse who was chomping at the bit to accomplish something even if it was a load of clothes thrown in the washer, a drawer that needed organizing, phone calls to customers, or papers to file.

Instead, I read.  I napped. I leisurely watched a movie.  I walked outside. I visited with people in my neighborhood.

By the third week of this new routine, I began to look forward to my Sunday afternoon.  My mind rested along with my body.  I realized the world would not stop turning and I could still get a lot done in my six days of working.  It was life changing really.

Since then, I’ve made the effort to honor the Sabbath principle in my week.  I’ve not done it perfectly.  I am prone to try to do too much and fill my schedule too full.  I know that about myself and often have to pull in the reigns of this work horse.  I have to guard my time when I could easily fill it with too many things.  Even too many good things can become burdensome.

I have found the gift of rest is exactly that – a gift.  God knows how we are, that we push to the limits. That we try to do it all.  That we think we are invincible.  That we tend to depend on our own strength instead of drawing from His.

As believers in Christ Jesus, we are free from the burdens of regulations and rules.  But sometimes we ignore the principles God has given us for our good.  And a Sabbath rest is good for us.  We need it.  We need the space, the balance.

We must remember that we are not in control and the world does not depend on us.  We do better with rest, sleep, and a little down time.  God is the one who never slumbers or sleeps.  He is the one who carries the weight of the world on His shoulders, not me.

Honoring Sabbath puts things into perspective.  I see myself in light of a great and powerful God.  He asks me to work well on six days, then stop and rest awhile.  It is wise.  It is healthy.  It has rewards we often overlook.

A Sabbath rest will look differently for each of us.  But it is something worth considering, worth incorporating into our week and our lives.

Will you take the challenge?  Will you give yourself some breathing room?

Breathing in and out – it is good for the body and the soul.

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For all my musician friends out there. {smile}

stop, rest