Holding On

As the day begins to dawn the house is chilly. The day looks gray and the wind is stiff. The fields are covered in the vestiges of the year’s harvest. Brittle corn leaves huddle in corners and bramble and occasionally make their escape across road and grass to find safe harbor elsewhere. The time has changed giving dreams an extra hour and we relish warm sweaters and thick socks. It is autumn.

As I view the world beyond my refuge of blankets and little dogs an oak along the lane catches my attention. Still full of leaves, brown and brittle it shakes in the breeze. The leaves catch the wind and hold with stems fraught with tenacity and strength to remain one with the branch it has known for three seasons.

We too hold on to the seasons of life with mighty strength thinking this is the pinnacle of our existence. We hold on to the lives of others afraid of what life holds for us without them. Like the oak leaf what we have known holds us to what has been. Although life tries to take us beyond and transform us we remain steadfast not to be changed. God has another plan. Our souls and lives are blessed beyond what we know. Remaining upon the branch does not allow us to see what is to come and experience the next season God has for us. Despite all our strength our stems will fail and we will be blown into the field, along the fence line, or into the pond. But this is never an ending. It is a different life but is just as blessed. We move from life to life.

The promise for this day is sunshine and temperatures that bid the chill away. In this day may you see the unexpected blessings the God of all beauty and love has for you and let go!

The Fog of Presence

As I awoke yesterday the light was dim and the sun still hesitating on the other side of the world. As dawn began a vivid pink caught my attention. The sky was a masterpiece of color. The gray fields now barren of corn and beans were cloaked in a band of fog. The white mist hung heavy above the ground yet remained below the tips of the trees. I sensed this was a scene I should be aware of, that this image would resound within me to be called forth in another context or with deeper meaning. I was struck with the density of this band of mist, strangely present, uniquely dense.  I sensed God’s presence, his power resting over the world, abiding, standing guard.

A few months ago I was reading Ezekiel and was struck by his vision and the aura of a rainbow emanating from the presence of God. I always thought of the rainbow as the visual reminder of God’s promise, a tweak of thought to his power. A symbol of his patience. It wasn’t until in that reading I understood the rainbow as an image of God’s presence. His color and impact upon his creation. Not a reminder only, but a sighting. I am reminded of that gossamer of God as I witnessed the fog.

Growing up in California the fog would be very thick. So thick we would play tag in the fog. Within a few feet we would be hidden from each other. Every step was a daring encounter to avoid collision and discovery by the game’s pursuer. I loved that game. The danger, the damp air, the mystery.

We are tempted to think that the fog hides us. The sticky, damp areas of life that we place ourselves behind will prove to send God beyond us. We try to veil ourselves, cover our heads from the wash of rain. If we hide from the storms, we will not be touched by them. Our wayward actions can go undiscovered and we can point to the rainbow of promise and find peace in God’s justice to provide safe harbor.

But God is the rainbow, God is the fog and storm. While we may try to hide God has actually enfolded us within his grace and Spirit. We do not dodge and run away from God. He is not the pursuer in the game to catch us. He is there swirling around our legs and shoulders. God is the little cat’s feet of Carl Sandburg silently laying a blanket of grace over the world. God is the color and the hope that finds us in the light of seeing the storm through. He is the storm and the healing presence that is that bright and terrible teacher and the calming presence all wrapped up in a rainbow of grace and mercy.

As you dance and play through your day, may you sight the presence of the holy and beloved creator and know the love that changes life.

"Some Pig"

It was a California day. The classroom door was open and the soft breeze smelled like sunshine and all that is captivating wonder. The sun beams were heavy with motes and fairy dust as the words of E. B. White swirled through my mind. Mrs. Grady with blond hair and youthful passion read Charlotte’s Web to us as our lunches and playground games rode heavy upon us and brought a dreamy stillness to the circle of children. This afternoon gave way to more filled with Stewart Little, Charlie, and James. The magic of books, the power of language, and the delight of shared imagination was launched.

Charlotte came back into my life again this week. The couch was warm covered in little dogs and little people. The book was digital, the conveyance a Kindle but the magic was still there. The wonder was adult as I shared words and watched Liam and Payton embrace Wilbur and Charlotte. The love is in being together sharing thought and time and the impact of a good story. For them I hope it brings warm memories of learning, reading, and being loved. So many years ago this gift was given by Mrs. Grady, no doubt considered her job, but a gift that changed at least one little girl.  A gift that continues as I shared it first with my children and now my grandchildren.

I remember Bob Farr, Co-author of Get Their Name, shared failing his children. He spoke of taking his children to church, but was negligent in bringing them faith, and passion for Christ. I wonder how many of us have been neglected, and also failed our own children to know that passion for Christ. I think of this and the vulnerability it takes to share Jesus within our families. While we don’t want to be persecuted, or rejected it is so much more dangerous with those we love. We may laugh years later when our children reach that point of embarrassment of their parents as they seek independence.  Our novelty wears off as they find new paths without our hands to help them cross the street. We laugh, but we also remember the sting of it. Rejection of our souls would be that much more devastating. So we don’t push, we don’t demand. And we fail to bring to them the passion of a Christ filled life. We fail to encounter the power of God together. Statistics and studies show that those parents that live, and model the values and disciplines of their Christian faith develop children that also have a passion for Christ. Bob spoke about embracing his second chance and sharing his faith and passion with his grandchildren. How to share his soul.

As I share Charlotte’s Web with Payton and Liam I also share my love for reading, imagination, color, and play. As I share this deep part of who I am, I also share my faith and love for God and Christ. I share my understandings of the Holy Spirit and the power it has to bring us strength and peace. I boldly share my soul. Because, it is the beauty of God and his love that brings all other parts of our lives into balance. Like that day in elementary school all things come together to change our lives to be filled with wonder, power, and love when we embrace God’s grace given through Christ and lives beyond our understanding through the Holy Spirit.

May your soul sing and rejoice in the wonder of God’s grace.

Works Cited

Anderson, Bob, Bob Farr and Kotan Kay. Get Their Name. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2013.

White, E. B. Charlotte's Web. Harper Collins, n.d.

Integrity

A game we play to “break the ice” in youth group is called two truths and a lie. It is a way of revealing parts of yourself to others you are just getting to know and build conversation. The game requires each person to state two truths and a lie and the other participants to guess which statement is a lie. It can be a fun way to shock others with quirky parts of your personality that they wouldn’t normally know about you. I tend to shock them by revealing my love for the “Walking Dead” and horror podcasts.

The entire hang up in getting to know others is that we only witness what they desire to show or reveal to us. We develop trust over time and through sharing experiences. It is a rare person that is open enough to reveal their center with boldness. It is hard to be vulnerable and risk being hurt and exploited. I have spent a large portion of my life moving and getting to know new people and develop relationships. It takes time and in developing those friendships some people become a part of your fiber and remain for a lifetime, and others only for a season. I believe a lot of that has to do with the depth of honesty, trust, and devotion that is created and shared.

Over the past two days a theme of integrity developed. It was a point of conversation in several different contexts. In sharing observations with a friend we explored our understanding of integrity. It is an integral point of evaluation in a class that I am taking, and beautifully demonstrated through a colleague.

He is a gentle soul with a soft southern Indiana way of speaking. Always dressed in suit and collared shirt his clothing reveals his generation. White hair neatly combed above a gentle welcoming face. He is the administrator for my district of Course of Study. He operates as my bursar, and registrar for the classes I take at the University of Indianapolis. Devoted to record accuracy he carries his binder with all our names and classes and subsequent payments accounted for.

As we gather for another weekend of study in the school’s chapel we hear announcements, updates, and share prayers before we worship. Over the seven years at COS I have prayed for this gentleman’s ill wife and her entrance to glory. I have hugged and tried to share gentle and encouraging words as I witnessed the pull of grief upon his shoulders and facial features.

He stood up to lead us in the morning message and revealed a level of integrity to faith and the love of God that has clung to me and proves to be an example of loving trust beyond what I have ever witnessed. He revealed he had lost his son suddenly and shared of the infant children that had also passed into glory. He shared his questions, and the inability to comprehend the reasons for experiencing so much loss. He shared his heart in gentle revelatory boldness. Through his words he witnessed to the beauty of his soul. A loving man, a Christian man, a man of integrity. Despite all the loss and questions he remains faithful. A man of integrity. A man of God.

As we all journey forward and continue our path of life. What will we reveal? Will our lives be full of integrity and bold truths, or will we hide behind deceptive layers to impress others? Will we embrace our faith and struggle with our understandings of God in order to establish our theological foundations? Will we boldly share our center so others may also witness the honesty of life lived in faith and the struggles and questions we encounter? Will we love others enough to entrust them to who we are and share our pain? Will we live with integrity and faith?

As Yourself

I was quickly doing a morning Facebook check. Today there was a post about a woman who stood in a crowd blindfolded in a bathing suit. While I found her beautiful, she struggled with loving herself. She leaned a chalkboard against her shins that asked anyone who struggled with self-acceptance and body acceptance to draw a heart on her skin.

I think of standing there myself open and vulnerable to the judgement of others. I cannot imagine the fear and doubt that would rise within me. We are so quick to make assertions from what we see, and not what we know. We fail to see each other, much less ourselves, as God’s creation. A work of art that took nine months of work 24/7. The masterpiece of the master.

Amy stood there for almost an hour and became covered in hearts and encouraging words. She was hugged and loved through her vulnerability. As Christians we forget that we are always loved through our vulnerability. Just like a little girl takes for granted the loving remarks of a parent on her beauty, we also disregard the messages of our heavenly father. We are told to love God with all we are, all we have, and work to love better every day. That love includes our neighbor, and ourselves.

I pray today that we can all remember we are all masterpieces of the master, a loving creation that is complex and beautiful because of all it contains. Amy is beautiful on the outside, but more so for her bravery, honesty, and vulnerability. May we come to love ourselves better every day and come to see ourselves as the artistry of God’s very hand. 

 https://www.facebook.com/HLN/videos/989495071096560/?fref=nf

Lessons From The Road

Lessons from the road

I went on my first motorcycle vacation a few weeks ago. Ron and I were heading up to Traverse City Michigan from LaPorte Indiana. It was a Tuesday morning and we were packing up to go. It was a beautiful and a hot morning. I quickly decided to not take my heavy motorcycle jacket and grabbed a lighter street coat.

We started up the coast of Lake Michigan. It was so beautiful with the sun shining and light traffic. We were just north of South Haven that I started to get cold. We were in the trees and the air was damp and the breeze on the bike was chilly. We pulled over and I put on my red leather jacket and we set off. We stopped and got gas and headed up 31.

The road was grooved and the wind kicked up in a fierce way as we changed directions. I found my coat working like a sail. The wind rushing up my arms and pooling in my coat. Combined with the grooved roadway I found myself in a precarious situation surrounded by big trucks and not able to go the speed limit safely. With my heart pounding and Ron far ahead I decided to pull off in the rest area and change into my rain gear jacket.

With wrists securely fastened and no longer a little red sail it was much better. Yet the wind continued to push and pull at me. I found that fighting the wind didn’t help. It wasn’t strong enough to blow me over. With a little adjustment I was fine. What I really needed to do was relax into the wind. I needed to trust that I was safe, the weight of the bike, the laws of speed and gravity. The wind wasn’t going to change, but I could change how I dealt with it. I eased off my grip on the bars and settled into the pace and direction of the wind and took what came. I prayed and relaxed.

It became a fun trip with beautiful weather and the glorious landscape of Northern Michigan. It was a trip of physical perseverance as exhaustion set in miles from our hotel destination. But I learned a great deal on that first day of my first motorcycle vacation.

The right gear and tools are essential. We may balk at the price of equipment, but the correct equipment is important. As Christians we need the right equipment as well, and we need to use it. I learned that trying to force change on the unchangeable, or that I which have no control over is useless and exhausting. As Christians we must realize that we do not have the control, but only God and our will or response to his grace. We cannot force our way through, but we need to relax, loosen our grip, use our gear properly and see the beauty around the buffeting winds of life. Emboldened with the promises, and word of God, strengthened through the Spirit we ride. Life hits and slaps at us, but when wearing God’s grace, his armor, and his love we ride through.

I pray for all of you that you loosen your grip and claim the promises of God. Trust in his love and grace and seek the beauty that is ever present. Life will push and pull you, but with the right gear and trust in the power of God you will enjoy the ride.

Sabbath Blessings, Ann

Red Poppies

My brother David posted on Facebook a picture of my brother George and me. The first thing that caught my eye was the red poppy hiding in the red of my sweatshirt. It is funny when we think of our childhood and the little things that stick with us all our lives. I still adore those red poppies and as recently as last month proudly wore one at the LaPorte County Fair.

As a young Girl Scout I remember planting poppies on one of the banks along the roadway in Southern California near Palos Verdes. This was a tribute to our veterans and a community beautification project. As children we were encouraged to embrace the beauty of our country and support those who fought to protect our freedom and way of life. I remember wearing a POW bracelet until Lt. Bernard Tally Jr. returned from Vietnam.

Last week while at the grocery Liam asked if the gentleman before us was a soldier. Dressed in camo pants and cap this unobtrusive man was selecting bread. I encouraged Liam to ask if he was indeed a soldier. The man replied that yes he was at one time, but was now retired. I could see the lines and age upon his face. Liam smiled at him his sweetest five year old smile and said “thank you”. The man’s face softened and he smiled.

I think of all we teach and all we neglect to teach our children. We often teach them to be polite, to understand etiquette and generally show all the social graces. We often neglect however to tell them why.  It is more than the proper way to behave. It is because we are all God’s children. We are all loved and adored. We are all set aside as holy and special. Manners are a way that we show respect and share the love of God to others.

So as I see the red poppy on the sweatshirt of one year old me, I look back and think of all the important things my family and society taught me as I grew up. I think of all the little red poppies of respect and honor, of love and grace, of peace through Christ that I wear within myself. I think of Liam and my responsibility to teach and encourage the red poppies to grow within him to be that special smile in the world that shares the love of God.

Ann

Sing a New Song

I was hanging out with Payton and Liam this week. We were riding in the car and I was talking about all the night sounds I had heard the night before. I told them all the frogs and crickets were singing. Liam asked what song they sang. I laughed and made what I thought were good bullfrog noises and weird chirps and croaks.

The sun is heralding the new day and the birds are getting louder and louder. Liam’s question came to mind and I wondered what the birds were singing about? Is Mrs. Sparrow talking to Mr. Sparrow about what they must accomplish today? Is Mr. Grackle and Mrs. Grackle coaxing the children to eat their breakfast? Is the Swallow family undertaking the mad dash to get to church on time?

Somehow I don’t think the other species of the earth hold those concerns. I imagine their songs are more joyous and full of praise and wonder of the sun warming their nests, and the gift of a temperate morning in the middle of July.

In a Bible study a few weeks ago we talked about the scripture from the Psalm 96:1 – Sing a New Song to the Lord. This statement appears nine times in the Bible. A call to sing new praise to God. A call to sing a new song. That is a call to a song that has not been sung before - a “new” song. What “new” song are we called to sing? How are we called to change and transform to recognize the power and beauty of God’s love and presence in our lives?

How do we write the new music of our lives? What will come from our souls in praise to God? We must open our hearts to a new tune, melody, and chorus. The habitual songs are relegated for another day as we explore the new song of praise, wonder, and appreciation.  

As this Sabbath day unfolds I pray God writes a new song upon your heart. I pray his grace illuminates a new vision, experience, understanding that bursts forth a joyous praise never heard before. The new song of your life written in praise of God.

Happy Sabbath! 

Ann

Truing

I bought a bike to ride around the neighborhood.  I have always loved biking and thought my biking days were over when I explored riding 8 miles to work. This endeavor into health and frugality left my knee screaming loudly in painful bursts, why?  I learned the importance of proper
alignment and adjustment of the seat, handlebars, and pedals. This is essential to prevent unwelcome 
berating from the body that can only be quieted by large dosages of Tylenol and Advil. Proper technique goes a long way to keep the body happy. It requires not only pushing the pedals, but lifting as well. Using both the back and front of the thigh, and the calves. 

My new bike arrived quickly delivered in Amazon fashion to my front door and delivered by Sean my UPS man. It was wrapped with great care and before too long it looked like a bicycle should. Shiny black with white wall tires this seven speed cruiser was going to carry me through the rural scenery of corn and beans. All adjustments made I was ready to go. It felt like I lived on one big hill, constantly pushing and slowly struggling to move down the road. Inhaler at the ready puff after puff was needed. I must be really out of shape. After several adventures on the bike being left in the dust by Ron, I began to think maybe it was the bike and not my athletic deficits. Any justification as this point would be welcome.

I Googled "why is my bike hard to pedal" and came up with a short list of brakes,bearings, and derailleur issues to check out. So with an allen wrench and other tools I approached my beautiful torture machine. The front brakes were tight upon the rim. While able to turn the wheel, it was not free and not true. It rubbed against the brakes. Justification!!  Now I was no longer pathetic, but empowered to think I rode miles with this added tension. I raise my arms in flexed victory to my bold pursuit of strength.

I tried to adjust the brakes. To no avail I could not get a good stopping result, lever control, and free wheel. Back to Google revealed the information of spoke wrenches, and the engineering of the wheel. Spokes run on each side of the rim to the hub. When in proper alignment and tension they make a wheel true, or balance side to side, and round. When not in proper tension the wheel will waver side to side and rub on the brakes. This adjustment requires a spoke wrench so the nipple does not get stripped and proper adjustments can be made easily. When proper tension is achieved the wheel runs true or straight.

Recently I was reading Titus for a Bible study. I was intrigued to find that the meaning of the term self control is not about abstinence from all things deemed wicked by the fundamental church. It is about running true and in a divine balance. The meaning is about safe inner outlook. biblehub.com   It is all about living with a divine outlook and it is personal. To run "true" is not the same for everyone. God meets us all differently and so if we look at humanity as one giant wheel each spoke is adjusted into its own unique tension. If we look at this individually we each need to have every spoke of our lives in proper balance. With God our hub each element must be adjusted for us to run true. As we ride down the road it isn't about brute strength. We must evaluate our path and the elements on it and adjust accordingly. Using the tools of wrenches and nipple keys we tighten and loosen each spoke in order to run true. We evaluate through prayer and scripture and as in most things experimentation what keeps each of us in balance with God and the world "around" us. 

As this Sabbath begins with foggy insistence with the humidity high and the temperatures destined to be higher I pray balance. I pray a day where God, praise, and thanksgiving give rise the rest of soul and body and an inner outlook sets you on the true path and an easier ride.

Ann

Coloring Pages

I love to color. New Crayons, new pencils, paints, markers, fresh clean paper are all so full of opportunity. Sometimes these blank slates bring forth creativity and endless expression in color and design. Sometimes they remain blank, or filled with useless doodles of no consequence. Like any given day we are inspired, or not and fill the blank pages of the day with the colors of living.

Liam has discovered coloring Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and Transformers coloring pages. It is a delight to witness his imagination come alive as he not only colors the pages, but imagines the actions depicted in the picture and shares his knowledge of the characters, their weapons of choice, and their abilities to defeat evil in the world of four year olds.

The other day we downloaded coloring pages from the internet and made a stash of pages to copy and color for other days. This saves Grann time as we don’t have to look up new pages, but make a copy of ones we have. What Liam discovered is that he can also make copies of the pages he has already colored and have a picture at Grann’s and also a picture at home. He is able to share his successes and continue his play and imagination of the characters.

As adult people in the world how do we share our successes, imaginations, and color in the world? How do we make copies for work, and home that bring forth the joy of discovery and inspire us into new thought and creativity?

We start with that original page outlined and stored for us to copy and fill in. We see what God has created and continues to create and draw new every day. We take his lead to color in the pages of our day with joyful experiences and mournful trust. Our colors can be vibrant marker or waxy crayon. The colors can be dark and leak through the page in our sadness staining the table beneath, or bright and eye shocking hues that vibrate and expand beyond the page. We copy these pages in our lives shared with others. Like masterpieces copied for every refrigerator we share our stories of overcoming despair and sustaining good through our faith. We share the colors of life and the lines that help others color their day in faithful trust and love.

Take time to color your day and celebrate the Sabbath,

Ann

What My Father Taught Me

As the morning dawns after a night of thundershowers with a cloudy sky and birds heralding the rise of the sun, I am thinking about my dad. This is the day that we are called to celebrate our fathers and all they mean to us, all they have encouraged us to accomplish, and to remember all they are and how their lives have changed us. My brothers and sister and I were blessed to have a great dad. My mind has been peeking at the Polaroid moments of time with my dad and thinking about all I learned about living with others through him.  My first picture is one where I stand with my brother George with toy tool boxes in hand looking at the house our parents were building in Milwaukee. I learned from my dad that girls can do all they set their minds on to accomplish. We are all given the right tools in our lives whether we are male or female. Be the best you, you can be.

The next memory I choose is traveling to California and being very sick. We were staying in a Travel Lodge and I remember opening the door to our room and there was dad with a huge Sleepy Bear teddy bear for me. I treasured that bear and now its memory. I learned that being kind and present to those who do not feel well is a gift that stays with them a life time. When we are vulnerable, kindness and love are the only gifts we desire to receive.

Our Dad liked to take us down the cliff to the tide pools. We would carefully travel the old goat path to the beach. A not so safe, but adventurous decent and climb. It was all the more magical because of the danger. We would walk through the tide pools gazing at the sea anemone, urchins, scallops, muscles. We would walk the beach and watch the waves. We would climb the cliff back home remove our shoe laces and dad would wash our shoes and laces and lay them out to dry in the sun. I learned that teaching our children is best done while we share the world together. Being together and exploring the world around us is a special gift parents can give their children. Time is the best gift and it is magnified when we share what we know, who we are, and an adventure together.

My dad used to tell me stories at bed time. We would climb into my twin bed my dad on his side with his back against the wall. He made up wonderful tales about Herman the mouse and his magic umbrella. Herman lived in our house under the wet bar and took us on wonderful adventures as we used our imaginations to travel all around Southern California. I learned that you should never let your imagination or creativity leave you as you grow up. That part of us allows us to always embrace the beauty of being a child.

My dad taught me that reading was great and I still cherish some of the books we read together. One of my favorites to this day is "Thidwick the Big Hearted Moose". 

I remember being part of building a retaining wall in our back yard in Canada. We helped carry the rocks to my dad, so he could build the wall. Our pay was any ice cream Sundae we wanted.  I learned that hard work is good and our true payment comes in our inner growth and self satisfaction. We should work hard to please ourselves. I also learned that our true rewards are not monetary, but experiential and helping to achieve something greater with others.

I learned from my dad that our pets bring joy and an added depth to our lives. They will spoil and ruin things we own. I remember the beautiful wool rugs my parents had in the living room. I also remember the discolored stains provided by our canine and feline family members. Stuff isn't important, those we love are. And true love lasts a life time whether we are easy to be with or pee on the rug. Love is true. 

Love you Dad,   Annie

The Unexpected

The Unexpected

As I walked the dogs today I saw two yellow finches flitting among the wild growth along the lane. Their color the brightest yellow with stark black wings caught my attention. It was so “unexpected” and beautiful. As I write this I am sitting with family members in the hospital. A sudden “unexpected” illness has called us here. Last night a storm came through with wild abandon. Lightening flashed, thunder boomed and crashed. Hail tapped and knocked loudly upon the windows and littered the grass with “unexpected” icy marbles.  Our lives are full of the “unexpected”. How are we called to live through these moments? It is easy when it is a bird, or sunset, seeing an old friend, or a card in the mail. It is different when it is scary and disconcerting. I believe we live through them the same. We step back and praise God through his compassion to provide beauty, and his mercy to provide peace and strength. As we wait for treatment I find blessing in this “unexpected” situation. I have been given time with my daughter and son-in-law that I haven’t had for some time. And that is as beautiful as a little finch among the weeds.           Pastor Ann

Sit a Spell

Northern Indiana has been blessed the past two days with beautiful weather. Cool in the morning and warm in the afternoons. Just when you think it will

be too hot, a breeze picks up and the temps fall into sweater weather. These few days without rain have allowed us to use our patio. Payton and Liam were playing

outside where the new concrete meets the dirt. I remember most of the patios we had when I was growing up. Our house in southern California had a fountain. I remember playing on that patio for hours with Barbie Dolls in the water, and with a skip-it or jump rope. For me patios are not just slabs of concrete, but a blank canvass that provides an outlet for expression in flowers, texture, nature, hospitality, and solitude. The right patios speak in Jed Clampet's voice "Come and sit a spell, ya hear".

Diane mows the grass here at the church and parsonage. It was her idea as other concrete projects were being undertaken to pour the patio. It sits between the garage and the house. Where there was once river rock and a clothes line, now there are flowers, furniture, pumpkins, and a fireplace. It is hidden from view and is a secret treasure now of the parsonage. Diane brought surprises for Liam and Payton this week. She hid butterflies in the flowers for the children to discover. They played with them for hours. A simple, gracious

gift. While we were outside watching Liam and Payton discover the hidden surprises Diane noticed a crack in the concrete. 

I have been thinking about that crack. I have been thinking about all the other patios in my life. I have been thinking about loads, weight, stress. The patio was poured 

in one piece about 16 by 20. A large span. Before the crack appeared I didn't think of this. Should the patio have been poured in smaller blocks to take the load more successfully? I am sure my engineer sons will help me on this. What I think of when I think of load and even distribution are stiletto heels vs. clogs. On the patio however the concrete has been asked to carry too much like a paper plate. Too much chicken on one side, will cause the stain causing baked beans to slide into your lap as the plate bends in the middle.  I know my illustrations are probably wrong, but what ever the cause there is a crack.

I heard once that we can only succeed with one thing at a time. We can do maybe an additional few things well. Then we encounter a rate of diminishing return. The more time we spend and more things we try to balance on our plate causes us to crack! Our laps are full of baked beans and potato salad and maybe a bratwurst rolls down our pants leaving a brown mustard stain. We tell ourselves we can work through it. We will get past this rough patch and have more time. Once I get this next project done, I can take more time. I can sit on the patio. That is until we take on more the next time. We take on that Sisyphus like focus and forget Christ and God and the power of the Holy Spirit. The crack should remind us not to spread ourselves too thin.

I think of that patio in California with all the time of a child to play. I think of all the patios that lay forgotten because life was too busy. I think of Jed Clampet. A simple man whether rich or poor calling us to "sit a spell". 

I pray this Sabbath that you embrace time for rest without excuse. Grab hold of the day God set aside to appreciate life and praise him and "sit a spell". Play in the fountain, the dirt, put your feet up and find balance. Hide some butterflies.  Remember to let Go and let God carry the load. Enjoy! Look for all the surprises God has hidden in your day and celebrate them. Make this a truly Happy Sabbath. Ann    

The Big Picture

I started playing this game that shows two pictures with a space for two words per picture and letter combinations.http://www.amazon.com/Maribou-Inc-Word-Rings/dp/B00X4KIKCI/ref=pd_sim_405_3?ie=UTF8&refRID=0GF6BXRBZWRHXCRAW62B

The goal is to combine letters to form words that relate to the picture. Some of them are obvious and others are not. When one picture is completed the letters swirl in a circle and another picture is replaced, and letter combinations added. I find that in playing this game I have a hard time connecting into the thoughts of the creator and their vision of some of the pictures. 

I have been thinking big picture ideas lately. I have had several conversations about the lack of vision of healthcare companies and pharmacies looking to save money now at the expense of spending much more later. My conclusion is they must look at the long term and not short term returns. 

I encountered many juxtapositions of this thought in other areas lately. This past week particularly in regards to ministry. I realize we live in a time of now, and immediacy. We have created a culture that demands things are fixed yesterday. Patience is a lost virtue.

But some things take time. Some messes take a long time to be made and a longer time to clean up. Systems with delicate balances can fall into disarray quickly, and yet require a long investment of time and resources to re-synchronize. As we evaluate the state of things we need to remember that adjustments take time and we need to seek vision of the long term consequences. we must not be misled to confuse inactivity and avoidance with patience.

I was listening to Reverend George Howard of the General Board of Global Ministries http://www.umcmission.org/speak on missions. He said something that has put new words to the ministry pictures for me. He indicated there is a point when we must surpass relief and work towards empowerment and sufficiency. An article in the "Together" magazine about the changing ministries at Broadway UMC in Indianapolis that outlined their shift to a bigger picture. They moved from relief to a community that encourages mutual support and sufficiency. http://www.inumc.org/together

What is the big picture? I see in my community a generation of families that are disconnected from their neighbors.  I see parents that have not been mentored in the basics of child development and basic home economic skills.  The relief we provide does not seem to engage these families to move beyond where they are into sufficiency and empowerment, but allows them to remain in a position that needs continued relief.

I believe the big picture for community and the church is to reengage to empower all of God's children to be strong and vital. We need to work in patient diligence to achieve a stronger church that is encouraging communities to once again support and mentor each other. The big picture takes time and effort with goals and vision. The big picture is to support all people to know of God's love and grace, and live in response to it. This picture God has drawn for us in his Word, and yet we are all still trying to get the right letter combinations to spell it out and understand what the creator sees.

I pray for patience, and commitment as we worship God and live in loving response. I pray that as Christians we can see the picture that God desires us to see and understand as it relates to our section of his world. I pray we find ways to work within and toward God's intentions for our lives in achieving his big picture. I pray we can all contribute with passion and excitement to claim those combinations of letters that spell out for us our portion of God's picture. May we find blessings in our waiting for the final revelation as the letters swirl and a new picture is revealed. The picture of glory itself.

Blessings for an amazing Sabbath,

Ann