Wednesday, November 03, 2004
(Luke 14:27)
Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after me
cannot be my disciple.
Good morning, Lord. It feels warmer than the 60 degrees my weather site shows. It's so nice to look out and see the lake again on a bright day.
My cross is light, Lord, and yet I complain. What I am complaining about is myself, though, and how little I accomplish. If I am lazy, maybe that is part of my burden. Until I accept things, I cannot change them. What does it matter what I think of myself? You know me and you forgive me. Let me know and forgive myself and others.
Before we make a commitment, we must assess the price and determine whether we are able to pay it. To follow you, we must renounce all our possessions. Does that mean we cannot have anything, or just that we cannot be attached to what we use? I am annoyed when my Internet connection doesn't work because it is my chief means of communication and information. Yet I am beginning to need and use it less. If I lose it, I will find other means of keeping in touch with people. Am I willing to give it up altogether? If it keeps me from you, I will, indeed, renounce it, but if it helps me to reach towards you and my brothers and sisters, then I will use it for that purpose. I use it for distraction, too, when I am tired and need to sit. What matters is how I hold it. If I set limits and am not dependent on it, then it is useful or at least neutral. If it keeps me from praising you or helping others, it is an impediment. Help me to use it prudently.
If I were humble and obedient, just responding with alacrity to the demands of each day, the requests of others, the aches, pains and fatigue, would be following you. When I rebel against them, I am declining your cross. When I respond to anger by getting angry myself, I am rejecting your cross. When I am intolerant, stubborn, proud and selfish, I am refusing your invitation. I am my own cross, Lord. Help me to bear myself as patiently and lovingly, albeit firmly, as you bore the weight of our sins. Thy will be done. Be it done unto me. Fiat! So be it. Amen.
Tuesday, November 02, 2004
(Isaiah 25:7-8)
On this mountain he will destroy
the veil that veils all peoples,
The web that is woven over all nations;
he will destroy death forever.
The Lord God will wipe away
the tears from all faces;
The reproach of his people he will remove
from the whole earth; for the LORD has spoken.
Good morning, Lord. It is brilliant again and the sun is actually hot. In a few minutes, I'll go down to vote. Please guide us in this election and protect our country and our world. Destroy the veils that hide and deceive.
When we see you, Lord, we shall know ourselves and our brothers and sisters in you. Life can be so comfortable at times that we forget we are in exile here. We long to come home to you, but we get caught up in the games and distractions that surround us.
Webs and veils distort but they do not completely obscure. As Paul said, we see now "through a glass, darkly." We know that the mountains exist, even when they are shrouded in fog. We know that roots and bulbs live under snow. We know that a tiny seed contains the potential for a beautiful flower, a nourishing grain, or even a sheltering tree. We glimpse your glory. One day we shall bask in it.
When I was a little girl, we used to visit the cemetery in which my ancestors were buried. It was in another town, and the road was hilly. The first sign that we were nearing the town was a view of the church steeple. We would see it at the crest of a hill, and it would disappear gradually as we went down. My dad would make a game of it, saying "There it goes. Oops, it's gone." Then we'd go up the next hill and he'd say, "Boy, they rebuilt that in a hurry." It was silly, but a lesson in perspective. Part of the fun was the familiarity of the game.
We like what is familiar. Sometimes we cling to a horrible relationship or situation because it's less scary than moving to something new. I wonder if, during the Exodus, people became so used to wandering in the desert that it was hard to begin a new life in the promised land. Here we are wandering, too. Even the thought of eternity scares me, though seeing you forever will be ecstasy.
We are used to the veils and webs that disguise us and distort our views. They form our cocoon. When we are ready to fly, we will poke our way through them and you will reveal yourself to us. Prepare us for that day. Thy will be done. Be it done unto me. Fiat! So be it. Amen.
Monday, November 01, 2004
(1 John 3:2)
Beloved, we are God's children now;
what we shall be has not yet been revealed.
We do know that when it is revealed we shall be like him,
for we shall see him as he is.
Good morning, Lord. It is bright again and I would say the leaves have peaked. The small trees nearest the pond have cast theirs on the water.
We do not know what we shall be, Lord, not only when we see you, but even tomorrow. I cannot imagine the glory that surrounds you. I cannot guess your plans for me. But you will show me what you want me to do, and that is all that matters.
We are not finished but becoming. We are your children, learning and growing from you, through you and in you. You give yourself to us. How can we deny you anything?
Today, on the feast of all saints, you remind us that sainthood is our calling. In these troubled times it is often difficult to be tolerant, kind, merciful and unafraid. Surely fear is the root of many sins. Let us remember who we are and who you are. Then we will be brave.
The first reading, from Revelation, speaks of those who have "survived the time of great distress." I am not worthy of that honor and I don't think I would have the courage to endure it, but only you know what will be demanded of us. Only you can enable us to survive. My cross is light because I am weak. Sometimes I fear that I am tempted beyond my strength, but you will not permit that. In Christ, you have made my burden light. Through him I am ransomed. I belong to you and you will not ask more than I can give. You will provide whatever I need.
Bless all your children; draw us into you so that we are one. Let us support one another as we grow in you. Thy will be done. Be it done unto me. Fiat! So be it. Amen.
Sunday, October 31, 2004
(Wisdom 11:26-12:1)
But you spare all things, because they are yours,
O LORD and lover of souls,
for your imperishable spirit is in all things!
Therefore you rebuke offenders little by little,
warn them and remind them of the sins they are committing,
that they may abandon their wickedness and believe in you, O LORD!
Good morning, Lord. It is bright now and I can see a bit of the lake since some leaves have fallen. It is filled with shimmering stars.
Everything that you made is precious, Lord. As the little boy put it, "God don't make junk." It is when we pervert the use of what you have created that we cause waste and pollution. We are still yours. The world is still yours. Teach us to respect you, this earth, and one another.
Your spirit is imperishable, and your spirit lives within us. How can we even ponder this truth? It overwhelms us. You love us and you live in us. And you will spare us. Let us not waste any time and energy in fear. Let us return your love by whatever means you provide.
Let us welcome your rebukes, for it is through them that you save us. You will not let us stray far if we just listen. Yesterday I felt totally shut down, but I knew that you would call me closer to you. I cannot ignore you for long and I know you cannot forget me. When I don't spend time with you in the morning, I feel as though my day never starts, as though I have thrown it away. Perhaps you let that happen so that I will know how vital this exercise is.
When I expect too much of myself, I get frustrated and accomplish nothing. When I expect too little, I still accomplish nothing. Help me to give whatever I can, without measuring or regretting. Who am I to judge what is useful to you? Take me, Lord, and do with me what you will. Thy will be done. Be it done unto me. Fiat! So be it. Amen.
Saturday, October 30, 2004
(Luke 14:10-11)
Rather, when you are invited,
go and take the lowest place
so that when the host comes to you he may say,
�My friend, move up to a higher position.'
Then you will enjoy the esteem of your companions at the table.
For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled,
but the one who humbles himself will be exalted."
Good evening, Lord. Today got away from me. It�s after 5:00 PM and already getting dark. I had a phone call from my daughter who is at the airport on her way to Disney World. Please keep her and her family safe.
I would gladly take the lowest place, Lord, but I am still so far from humble. I hate being criticized. I still remember real or perceived slights, even though I have resolved never to speak of them or dwell on them. If I were humble, I would not even have felt insulted. We are insulted only if we get less than we expect, and why should I expect anything? What happens is your will and there is always something for me to learn. If that includes painful lessons about myself, then perhaps I will move a little closer to true humility. It is hard to recognize the truth, especially about ourselves, but humility is a prerequisite.
Teach me, Lord. Thy will be done. Be it done unto me. Fiat! So be it. Amen.
Friday, October 29, 2004
(Philippians 1:9-11)
Good morning, Lord. It is cloudy today, but the leaves have almost peaked. There is less green background and more variety.
Help us all, Lord, to "discern what is of value." As Paul prayed for his friends, I pray for all who are united in you. May our love "increase�in knowledge." There is an old song, "To know, know, know him is to love, love, love him." To know you is to know all that there is. We cannot fathom it here and now, but the more we meditate on your truth, inscrutable as it seems, the more we love, and the more we love, the more we know.
Draw us all close to you and to one another in your infinite love. Thy will be done. Be it done unto me. Fiat! So be it. Amen.
Thursday, October 28, 2004
(Psalm 19:2-3)
The heavens declare the glory of God; the sky proclaims its builder's craft.
One day to the next conveys that message; one night to the next imparts that knowledge.
Good morning, Lord. It is very warm and bright. I really should go out and get a picture of those trees before they shed their glowing leaves. The afternoon sun burnishes them.
What an appropriate psalm for such a gorgeous day! You do not need words to speak to us. You, the builder of heaven and earth, speak to us of glory. I, who love to play with words, realize that they are only substitutes for what is inexpressible for us. Yet you show us constantly, if we just stop to look and absorb.
Help me today to see your face and hear your voice in the beauty and bounty that surrounds me. Thy will be done. Be it done unto me. Fiat! So be it. Amen.
