Perspectives: Mushrooms

 

Grateful

I mentioned on Monday that my mother had two surgeries in June. During one of those surgeries, while I was in the surgical waiting room, I overheard a conversation between two other waiting family members. 

They were upset that their family member's surgery had been postponed to a later time in the day, necessitating that they spend a longer amount of time in the waiting room than they had planned for. They were from out of town, so when the surgery was complete, and the patient finished with recovery, they would get a late start on the drive back home.

They were not happy, and their unhappiness was very loud.

It made me think about the woman who was waiting for her surgery to start. I'm sure she was afraid and unhappy, and at the end of the day, when her family was home, she would have been through surgery and had to start recovery.

It seems like - even though I understand the impatience of the waiting family - that their day was not the worst it could have been. 

We do that sometimes, I think. We lose our empathy, and we live in our complaints. At the end of a Thursday in June, when I was dealing with the emergency surgery for one parent and the death of the another, I was still able to go home with my husband. We need to remember that living in our complaints can be crushing.  Where can you be grateful today?

Blog Pause and Return

 Hello, all,

I have been absent from the blog for a little while.  

In June, my mom had major surgery on a Monday and then emergency surgery on a Thursday. On that same Thursday, my father died.  

I decided I needed to step back for just a little bit in order to have the time to handle what I needed to do (mainly care for Mom; my father's death "aftermath" is the responsibility of his second family).  One of the items I could "pause" was my blog posting. I set a goal to be back to three times a week in August. 

So I'm back, and I hope to stay back.

Perspectives: Red Rock Canyon

 

Red Rock Canyon, Nevada

Perspectives: Overwhelming Choices

 

How many choices do we need?

Charred Cross

I wrote yesterday about some of my thoughts when I read Chapter 3 of the book Becoming Jesus' Prayer. The chapter is about forgiveness.  The authors tell the story of Farmer's Chapel UMC in Iowa. The over 100-year-old church building was destroyed by an arsonist. You can image the anger the church felt towards this person. Even so, the pastor wrote an open letter to the arsonist that was published in the local paper. The letter invites the person to church. Not as an empty, let's act like we forgive people invitation, but with an invitation that shares how impossible, and yet how imperative forgiveness is.  You can read part of the letter at this link (scroll down a little on the page). The blog was (is?) written by an Assistant to the Bishop in Iowa.

The image on my page today is of the cross in the rebuilt Farmer's Chapel.  It is constructed from charred pieces of wood left after the fire.  The authors of Becoming Jesus' Prayer wrote, "Every Sunday morning now, the congregation worships with a visual reminder of the arsonist's act, but more that that every Sunday morning they worship with eh assurance that life come out of death, that hope emerges from desolation."

Do we find forgiveness too difficult to attempt? Or do we know how difficult it is, but accept God's help to do what for us is impossible alone?

Note: Forgive the resolution of the image - it's a screen shot of a video.

Light a Candle in Our Hearts

 

I'm still reading Becoming Jesus' Prayer. Chapter 3 is about forgiveness.  The authors write, "Forgiveness begins with an awareness of our shared humanity, a recognition of the tremendous capacity that we have to both destroy and bless one another....This honest self-appraisal can also enable us to see our need for interior cleaning....An African schoolgirl described this need for cleaning when she prayed: 'O Though great Chief, light a candle in my heart, that I may see what is therein and sweep the rubbish from they dwelling place.'"

Yesterday, before I read this today, I was thinking about how much we build resentment within ourselves when we judge other people. Maybe they are meeting our expectations, or maybe they are living their lives (or a part of their lives) in a way we would do so. Or maybe we make assumptions about their inner thoughts when they speak to us.

Think about the time when you thought, "He hated what I just said, and now he is angry with me."  We make assumptions about people's emotions or motivations, and we grow angry with them. I wonder if we are projecting our own thought on them; I'm certain we don't know what is going on in their lives. It's somewhat self-centered of us to assume their reactions or what we perceive of their reactions to be about us.

It seems as if changing this part of us - stopping our assumptions and judgments - we rid us of the need to forgive others at times.  If we just lit a candle in our hearts for some self-reflection.

Perspectives

The last two weeks have been a little bit hectic, and I've missed posting. I've gone back and added some posts dates in those two weeks, but with transparency, I'm letting you know that they are backdated. 

One week is images from Annual Conference, and then I added some regular posts to the next week.  

I should be back on track for now. 

Sarah Laughed

In the CLM class I taught last night, the person who shared a devotional read Genesis 18:1-15. He compared the trust in God's word exhibited by Abraham to Sarah laughing, saying that she was laughing because she didn't trust or believe God would do what God had promised.

How do you view the idea that Sarah laughed?  Is it distrust? Or is it something else?

For me, I've always loved that Sarah laughed. I imagine, if I live to be as old as Sarah was, and God said to me that I would have a child, I would laugh.  Or cry. It's ridiculous. It's laughable. It's unbelievable. And maybe, for Sarah, who had no children, it would be joyous, too, 

I don't think she is a model of distrust we should avoid emulating.  I think she is a slice of humanity.  Disbelieving. Smart enough to know what she's been told is impossible. Afraid, and a little bit joyous, too. And God respected her enough to have a conversation with her. 

Saying our Prayers

I'm reading a book called Becoming Jesus' Prayer: Transforming your Life Through the Lord's Prayer by Bishop Gregory V Palmer, Cindy M McCalmont and Brian K Milford.

The first line in Chapter 1 says, "'Saying one's prayers is not the same as praying.'"  This is a line from Anne of Green Gables, spoken by the title character.  I was struck by the line. It's true, isn't it?

I had a pastor once who would speed through the Lord's Prayer when he led the congregation in praying it.  We asked him in a meeting one time if he could slow down a little.  "I'm just praying it as I would pray it," he replied (or something close to that).  Unfortunately, we do sometimes pray the prayer without thinking about it.  We say the prayer without praying.

Truthfully, I resented the high speed of the prayer when he led us. I didn't want to pray it that fast. What I learned is that I could pray it without saying it, and just let the prayers of others wash over me, praying with them silently. It quieted my resentment while surrounding me in the prayers of others.  I recommend that you try it.

We do sometimes take a casual approach to prayer.  "I'll pray for you," is commonly heard, but when I say it, I don't always do it. I hope God hears our prayers even when we are not very good at praying them. I hope we hear God at least a little when we aren't very good at listening.

 

Perspectives: Peaceful Place

This is a pier on the lake at Stonewall Resort near Weston, West Virginia.  Steve and I had dinner here one evening during Annual Conference.  It's a peaceful place to visit.

 

Annual Conference at WVWC

 This is a view of West Virginia Wesleyan College. Steve and I were taking a break at lunch. I grabbed this image and sent it to our son, who is an alumnus of the school - just to tell him we were thinking about him. 

This is a lovely campus and a holy place to hold Annual Conference.

One Matters award

 This is an image of a church in our Annual Conference receiving a One Matters award. What struck me about this presentation is that the person at the far right of the line is the church's pastor. I love how he has positioned himself farthest away from the Bishop (the woman shaking hands with those on stage). It feels like he is highlighting how important the work of the laity is in the ministry of the church. 

Perspectives: Street Mural