"Anna sat watching the road by which her son was to come."
Tobit 11:5
We parents do a good deal of "watching the road" by which our kids come home, don't we? Listening for their call, watching the driveway, listening for the car door to shut. We spend a good deal of time waiting for the kids. Is that how God waits for us? I think so. The father in the Prodigal Son story sees his son coming from a far-off distance, because he is out there, watching the road. And he runs to greet his son the minute he recognizes that familiar figure. Our God is just as happy and eager to welcome us coming up the metaphoric road towards Home, too. Today, as we wind up another week, let's head towards Home. Let's try to spend a bit of time sitting in silence with God, not necessarily saying anything, but just a bit of time in quiet, listening. When we make special time to just be with God, God sees us coming up the road, heading Home. And God hurries to meet us. Love, heidi
Friday, June 9, 2017
Wednesday, June 7, 2017
Let God be God...
"Blessed are you, O Lord, merciful God, and blessed is your holy and honorable name. Blessed are you in all your works forever!"
Tobit 3:11
Sometimes I wonder if we shouldn't pray more generally, like this beautiful prayer from Sarah in the book of Tobit. We can get fairly specific in our prayers, praying for this to happen, then that; for things to work out this way or that. I wonder if we are so wrapped up in telling God what needs to happen that we aren't leaving ourselves open to a better way. This prayer of Sarah, who was suffering terribly when she prayed it, just heaves a sigh of release of the pain and lets God be God. She gets a little more specific later on in her prayer but this first part, where she praises God in the storm, is truly beautiful. I wonder if that wouldn't be a nice way to pray...just inviting God to bring about what God thinks may be best. Today, despite knowing how we would like things to turn out when we pray, let's let God know we'd be open to whatever. We may be awed to discover the gifts down the road once we let God be God. Just as Sarah did when her suffering turned to joy as God answered her prayer. Love, heidi
Tobit 3:11
Sometimes I wonder if we shouldn't pray more generally, like this beautiful prayer from Sarah in the book of Tobit. We can get fairly specific in our prayers, praying for this to happen, then that; for things to work out this way or that. I wonder if we are so wrapped up in telling God what needs to happen that we aren't leaving ourselves open to a better way. This prayer of Sarah, who was suffering terribly when she prayed it, just heaves a sigh of release of the pain and lets God be God. She gets a little more specific later on in her prayer but this first part, where she praises God in the storm, is truly beautiful. I wonder if that wouldn't be a nice way to pray...just inviting God to bring about what God thinks may be best. Today, despite knowing how we would like things to turn out when we pray, let's let God know we'd be open to whatever. We may be awed to discover the gifts down the road once we let God be God. Just as Sarah did when her suffering turned to joy as God answered her prayer. Love, heidi
Tuesday, June 6, 2017
Like St. Francis...
"So Jesus said to them, 'Repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God.' They were utterly amazed at him."
Mark 12:17
I think Jesus showed a lot of common sense in his response. But perhaps then, as now, common sense isn't at all common. We may need the same type of practical common sense to get along in our crazy world in our day, too. We need to function within the world's laws and boundaries, don't we? One thing that has struck me about St. Francis in reading Fr. Richard Rohr's meditations about him is that Francis operated just at the edge of inside his culture. He didn't break laws or sit on the outside and "throw rocks" at those in the center. His lifestyle was counter-cultural but not so much that they could remove him from the culture. Therefore, he could still influence it--for good. Fr. Rohr shared that one of the Core Principles of the Center for Action and Contemplation is this: "The best criticism of the bad is practice of the better." If we are dissatisfied with the way things are, we can do them better in our own lives. Like St. Francis, we can live mindfully, contemplatively, lovingly with our fellow humans and all other creatures. We can care for our earthly home to the best of our ability and, in our quietly "doing it better" we can influence others, also like St. Francis. So today, let's pay our taxes (if we haven't already!) but also live as gently and carefully within the world as we possibly can, loving all others. Love, heidi
Mark 12:17
I think Jesus showed a lot of common sense in his response. But perhaps then, as now, common sense isn't at all common. We may need the same type of practical common sense to get along in our crazy world in our day, too. We need to function within the world's laws and boundaries, don't we? One thing that has struck me about St. Francis in reading Fr. Richard Rohr's meditations about him is that Francis operated just at the edge of inside his culture. He didn't break laws or sit on the outside and "throw rocks" at those in the center. His lifestyle was counter-cultural but not so much that they could remove him from the culture. Therefore, he could still influence it--for good. Fr. Rohr shared that one of the Core Principles of the Center for Action and Contemplation is this: "The best criticism of the bad is practice of the better." If we are dissatisfied with the way things are, we can do them better in our own lives. Like St. Francis, we can live mindfully, contemplatively, lovingly with our fellow humans and all other creatures. We can care for our earthly home to the best of our ability and, in our quietly "doing it better" we can influence others, also like St. Francis. So today, let's pay our taxes (if we haven't already!) but also live as gently and carefully within the world as we possibly can, loving all others. Love, heidi
Monday, June 5, 2017
Fear of the Lord...
"Blessed the man who fears the Lord, who greatly delights in his commands..."
Psalm 112:1
Just yesterday, on my relatively-silent-Sunday, I finished the remarkable book, "By Way of Grace" by Paula Huston. In the chapter on the virtue Hope, she describes the life of St. Therese of Lisieux and the Old Testament referring to the "fear of the Lord." I tended to think of fear of the Lord as awe of the Lord, not quivering in a corner, afraid of God's wrath. Well, Ms. Huston describes the fear of the Lord as a fear of separation from God--on our end. We certainly have the choice to choose God, and, if so, we have the choice to turn away from God, too. What if situations in our lives get so dicey that we just cannot imagine God involved anymore? St. Therese was suffering terribly from tuberculosis and along with the physical suffering, she was going through a crisis of faith as well. She writes of her "nothingness" and how she wants to believe, but she "feels no joy" in singing of heaven. After such a life of faithfulness and longing for God, she felt little of that as she lay dying. She even advised her caregivers not to leave anything near her that she could use to kill herself. The "fear of the Lord" was a great and real fear, that when the going got tough, Therese could turn away from God, whom she loved with all her heart. And we can go there, too, Friends. If things seem so dismal that we wonder, where is God? So, today, this breezy June Monday, let's pray that we may have fear of the Lord, not as one who fears retribution or punishment, but that we may be people who continually choose God. God always chooses us, but that we will always have the desire to choose God back! Love, heidi
Psalm 112:1
Just yesterday, on my relatively-silent-Sunday, I finished the remarkable book, "By Way of Grace" by Paula Huston. In the chapter on the virtue Hope, she describes the life of St. Therese of Lisieux and the Old Testament referring to the "fear of the Lord." I tended to think of fear of the Lord as awe of the Lord, not quivering in a corner, afraid of God's wrath. Well, Ms. Huston describes the fear of the Lord as a fear of separation from God--on our end. We certainly have the choice to choose God, and, if so, we have the choice to turn away from God, too. What if situations in our lives get so dicey that we just cannot imagine God involved anymore? St. Therese was suffering terribly from tuberculosis and along with the physical suffering, she was going through a crisis of faith as well. She writes of her "nothingness" and how she wants to believe, but she "feels no joy" in singing of heaven. After such a life of faithfulness and longing for God, she felt little of that as she lay dying. She even advised her caregivers not to leave anything near her that she could use to kill herself. The "fear of the Lord" was a great and real fear, that when the going got tough, Therese could turn away from God, whom she loved with all her heart. And we can go there, too, Friends. If things seem so dismal that we wonder, where is God? So, today, this breezy June Monday, let's pray that we may have fear of the Lord, not as one who fears retribution or punishment, but that we may be people who continually choose God. God always chooses us, but that we will always have the desire to choose God back! Love, heidi
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)