RESPONSE TIME

Sometimes when I listen for you, God,

All I hear is, well, nothing.

Oh, there are those glorious days when my wait time is zero.
'cause you take off like a bat out of hell!

Oops. Sorry. Me bad.
It’s true, though! Some days, I can’t keep up with you.

But other ones?
Nothing. Nada. Nyeht.

Like today.
Not a single thing. No thing. Nothing.

Wait. What?
You say you always have something to say to me?
But first, so I can hear,
You want me to relax my body...empty my mind...and open my spirit to you?
So, you're saying that's what'll happen if I just sit very still and be very quiet for a nice long time?
Oh.

(Long pause)

You still there, God?
How long is "...a nice long time?"

(Longer pause)

Okay. Okay. I get your point.
It's long enough to create a space for you to come into...a place of nothing.
Nada.
Nyeht.

(Oh, you’re good, God! You are really good.)

“Be still, and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10 NRSV Bible)

 

I CAN...

"Never let what you can’t do keep you from doing what you can."

These words can be helpful and motivating in virtually every situation. In the midst of escalating tensions and communal instability in our interpersonal, local, national and global relationships, now might be a good time to consider how we can apply them. Here are some ways. What might you add?

I can...
     ...be respectful no matter what, knowing that this alone will help diffuse volatility.
I can...
     ...bring calm by being calm, even when those around me are not.
I can...
     ...listen--truly listen--to what those who think differently than me have to say.
I can...
     ...admit that I don’t know everything. I have a lot to learn.
I can...
     …decide not to give in to smugness or cynicism or apathy.
I can...
     ...show compassion toward all, especially those most adversely affected in troubling times.
I can
     ...be open, even if I think whatever is happening can’t possibly be good--or bad.
I can...
     ...remember that things could be worse.
I can...
     ...make an impact with my voice, my time, my resources, my energy, my life.
I can...
     …choose not to let anything make me surrender my peace, my joy, my hope.
I can...
     ...commit to looking at things from a larger, more unifying perspective.

In life, there will always be things we can't do. So, let's be creative and courageous about all the things we can!

Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. (Philippians 4:8, NRSV Bible)

WHAT A VOICE!

After hearing me sing at our first rehearsal, Steve, the baritone next to me exclaimed, "What a voice!" It made me feel good.

But sadly, that wasn’t all. His compliment aroused a very old and very personal ogre that hibernates deep within my psyche, occasionally awakening to wreak havoc upon my moments of merriment. No sooner had Steve made his kind comment than my ogre spat out its interrogating curse, “Why haven’t you done more with your musical talent? We both know, you could have done so much more with it over these many years!” 

Surprising, isn’t it, how something intended as a simple and sincere compliment could so easily arouse this demon of self-doubt in me? And surprising, isn’t it, how vulnerable we are to the judgmental scripts that can rise up out of our past decisions and actions?!

“Be kind,” Johann von Goethe (1749-1832), the German philosopher said, “for everyone you meet is fighting a great battle.” I suspect that whatever great battle Goethe was referring to has different warfronts for each of us. But for many of us, at least in moments of vulnerability, self-doubt lies at our personal war’s core.

Fortunately for each of us, “Now,” that is, this very moment, always holds the potential to “outmaneuver” anything in our personal history. Right here, right now I can choose to see Steve’s compliment as something that propels me into the future rather than drags me into the past. This emancipating idea lies at the heart of Jesus’ story about the prodigal son (Luke 15:11-32 NRV) in which we’re told about a young man who “came to himself,” that is, realized that his past didn’t have to define his future. Period.

Whether we read the Bible or not, we all long to experience what this story offers: the grace of “now.” Living in the grace of now doesn’t change the past. It does something better. It puts the past in the past so we can still learn from it--but it no longer has power over us. That was then. This is now.

STANDING INVITATION

You call out to me, God.
From somewhere
beyond all my “to do” lists,
beyond my incessant needs to produce—produce—produce,
beyond my misguided attempts at always getting it right,
and then feeling badly about myself when I don't,
you call out to me.

But you don’t just call out to me.
You call me out.
You call me out of the world I think is the only world there is.
You say, "Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away..."
You beckon, "Let me speak to you as your beloved who knows only love for you...
then listen...
and listen again."

But God, much of the time, I don’t hear you.
And frankly, some of the time I don't want to hear you.
Immersion in a world that places almost all my worth on accomplishment
takes its toll.
It's what I've been taught.
I blindly follow.

Sometimes though,
amidst the din of daily life,
I do hear you.
I hear your small voice.
It stills me.
I feel what your love is saying.
I hear you calling me out of my constant doing, doing, doing,
and into my being
for my well-being.

And, I see.
This "beyond" world
that's so easy to miss
is not so much beyond as within.
This is the world of being where you dwell within me.
This is the world where you invite me to dwell within you,
so you can quiet, and comfort, and create.

I know, God.
When I do have the courage to spend even a little deep time with you,
I know you're right.
You're right about my proclivity for productivity,
my piquant for perfectionism
...and all the rest.

And so,
I accept your standing invitation once again.
Today.

“My beloved speaks and says to me: “Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away…”’ (Song of Solomon 2:10 NRS Version)

PRECIOUS LITTLE

Meditation is a form of prayer which is a time for receiving glimpses…glimpses of deeper meaning to things happening in our lives, glimpses of beauty and/or inspiration for the difficult times, glimpses of joy and peace in the midst of them, or, as I like to think of it...glimpses of Life with a capital L. I don't always experience these glimpses, but when I do I say, “Thank you, God!”

These momentary epiphanies are wonderful, but still, I want more. I'm not fully satiated--at least not for long. I don’t like to admit it, but like the bumper sticker says, “I want it all…and I want it right now.”

It appears, however, that it doesn’t work this way most of the time. Of course, God could give us the all we desire, but God seldom does. (Hopefully, there’s a good reason behind this behavior, God!) And here’s the real irony—and maybe a reason.  When we take the time to examine our own behaviors, we discover we don’t do so well when we actually do get it all--no matter what “all” is. We've heard stories about what often  happens to people who win the lottery or receive some other huge windfall of wealth. Or, consider the biblical story of spoiled excess manna (Exodus 16:1-31) and the parable of the prodigal son (Luke 15: 11-32). Or, if you're feeling particularly brave, consider your own track record.

In the material realm of our lives, all too often when we get it all we waste much of it. We really don't appreciate getting a lot any more than we appreciate getting a little...and we squander it. Or, we may even go in the opposite direction and hoard it! Insofar as this is true of our relationship to material things, might it also be true of spiritual things as well…”things” like glimpses of deeper meanings, of beauty and inspiration, feelings of joy and peace--of Life with a capital L?

Maybe God gives us precious little in the hope that we will come to perceive the infinite abundance that exists in all things, even little things, precious little things…like glimpses.

May it be so as we enter into the abundance of a whole new year...one precious glimpse at a time.