HIM

HIM

The day began calmly enough at 5:15 with the radio waking us up. Soon after, the younger daughter came in to snuggle with me and the younger dog while spouse showered and got ready for work.

By the time older daughter awoke at 6:30, the day seemed to be off to a good start. Even the daily devotion from my home church spoke of an orderly process, infused with patience.

Habakkuk 2:2-4 2 Then the Lord answered me and said: Write the vision; make it plain on tablets, so that a runner may read it. 3 For there is still a vision for the appointed time; it speaks of the end, and does not lie. If it seems to tarry, wait for it; it will surely come, it will not delay.

Then, besieged by an flurry of emails pertaining to church property issues, the day went out of control - or my control, that is.

In the midst of addressing roofing issues, fire alarms and keys for fire department's lock box, parishioners in hospital, upcoming wedding and pending memorial service, I was given a 'heads up' call that one of our regular assistance friends was at church. But, as I was reminded, he's here on a Tuesday and assistance office hours are Mondays and Wednesdays - and as a 'regular', he knows the schedule.

The other tidbit of info in that quick phone call was that our friend (who had been in a serious bicycle accident two months ago and was in rehab) had gotten to the church by himself, wheel-chair bound, from the north side of Chicago. I had visited him a few times at the first rehab center but had not seen him in a couple of weeks at this second rehab center. This is about a 12 mile trip - and as our friend uses public transportation, meant a few bus transfers were involved too. The final 2/10 of a mile from the bus stop to our church he had 'walked' with his wheel-chair.

When I opened the door to 'sneak' into my office for a second to gather my thoughts and empty my arms, he was in the 'donation station' where the food pantry donations are stored, bent over and sorting, straightening out the disorganized collection of food and crates. I said "Well, look who's here" as much to let him know that I was there as to let him know that the surprise of seeing him. He whipped his wheel chair around and I saw his face shining with the exhilaration of physical exertion combined with the accomplishment of 'making it' to Messiah. His snaggle-toothed grin spread from cheek to cheek and his brown eyes sparkled with glee, as a child opening gifts on Christmas morning. My heart surged and he said "Yep, I made it, Pastor." As I reached down to give him a hug, he stood up with strength, not wavering a bit, and gave me a hug. As he lowered himself in the wheel-chair again, he began to share how he got there - which bus routes and such.

He then said that he knew he was taking a chance on seeing me but he knew that I needed to see him. When I first heard that, I heard the bravado of a street smart survivor who has the confidence of his abilities. You see, our friend has a long past of violent acts 'protecting' women from ne'er-do-wells whom he believes could endanger women.

As I reflect on his comment, he was right.

I went into the office to catch up on the 'live' situations of roofing, keys, locks, funerals and hospital visits. A parishioner/fellow pastor who is on leave from call was there to ascertain if he would be conducting a funeral this weekend on my behalf. He observed the frenetic nature of the office and my own stress level. When he heard the short version of our assistance friend who'd come on the wrong day, he calmly said "Perhaps this is the right day for God to send him here."

Yes, dear friend, you are correct! God did send this man to me on the day that I needed him! I needed to be reminded of the importance of relationships with each other in this world that often is out of our control. I needed to hear that all of God's people are important. Structures will come and go...yet our time with each other is precious and valuable. Taking time out to nurture and listen and just 'be' with one another is often out of our control - not on our 'to-do list'. If we don't tend to our relationships, we become independent and not inter-dependent, thereby lessening the impact we can have here in God's kingdom. We are stronger and able to be more and do more to further God's mission when we connect with brothers and sisters in our community. To borrow from the ELCA, God's Work ... Our Hands.

Growing

It is the beginning of the cold winter months in the Midwest and the last thing we see now is 'growth' in the sense of outdoor flora. But, inside we may be experiencing a different kind of growth - the kind that is not seen, but felt; not heard but experienced.
An inner growth that might reflect our need to continue to grow despite the outdoor climate limitations. Yes, even a spiritual growth!
In these cold wet months, my mind tends to ponder the potential gardening of the spring and summer. There is a renewed sense to experiment with new recipes - to try growing our epicurean delights. My daughters have a fervent desire to create and develop things of the crafty variety. The more restricted we are by the cooling weather, we seek to grow in other ways.
Humans have a tremendous capacity for growing and learning and changing. Even when it is frightening or unknown, there seems to be an innate need for growth in most of us.
And how many times do we limit that growth to something that is only seen or heard or done? Isn't spiritual growth just as valid as the active obvious types of growth?
Is there a limit imposed on acceptable ways to grow? My 7 year old wants to be 48 inches tall, or 4 feet tall -- she believes that to be the epitome of growth. If she does not achieve that (her birth mother was 4'9" tall), will that limit her potential in this world?
What about the ways that children learn? Their growth in school is determined by an arbitrary range of standards that are statistically calculated and compared.
But how do we measure our spiritual growth?
Does God, Adonai, Elohim, Yahweh, Allah have a pre-determined way to judge our growth in faith? Do we have an expectation of what it means to grow in our faith? If so, what might this feel, sound or look like?
My understanding of growing in faith to God is accepting the great mystery of faithfulness. The mystery of God who is only limited by our own meager human minds and hearts. The Almighty and Most High God of all can not be compared to a human, for no human has done what God has done.
In my limited capacity to determine spiritual growth, I understand that my faith in the mystery will prompt many more questions than answers. For the more I grow, the less I know.

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GIFT and girlfriends

Two springs ago, a small group of acquaintances began to gather monthly for prayer. Since that time, one has had a baby, one has gotten engaged and both have moved out of the area. On this birthday of the church, I reflect on the impact these women in community have had on me and my growing faith. We have shared prayers, tears, stories, pain, as well as joyful blessings. Each of these women have become a part of my being, of my story, of my future.
The Creator has blessed me with these relationships and through this community, my faith has grown.
I offer this blog to invite the stories of others whose faith has grown through a community such as this. Faith stories know no bounds of denomination or religious tradition. Faith, as I define it, is the irrational belief in a power greater than one's own. I have found that sharing stories of faith deepens the faith of the sharer, the hearer and the community. It is for this purpose alone that I seek others' stories of irrational belief....stories of the power of an unknown presence.
Your story is valued...ready whenever you are.