It is a “weekend” Lord; not a weak end, but the end of something that will begin again, end again, begin and end with the flow and purpose of your dream for creation. Thank you for days that flow together, not simply a sequence of hours, but a continuity of grace and blessing. You are the sacred flow that brings meaning to the moments and endless joy to weeks that never end. Thank you. Amen.
Core: “the central, innermost, or most essential part of anything.” Everything has a core. A mountain, a tree, an apple, a political movement, families. You. Me. Health experts and high-powered salesmen keep telling us: “You need to keep your core in good condition,” because if you don’t, then all the rest of the structure, which is supposed to be supported by “the core,” will get wobbly. Santa Claus, whose belly shook like a bowl of jelly, is not a good role model.
And then there is the term “core values.” Trees and mountains don’t fit into this understanding of core, but people do, and cultures and nations. Core values don’t come with the birth certificate; they are not issued when you get to be a certain age. The physical core of the human body comes with the package, but ethical, moral and spiritual core values are learned by living, by making decisions, by succeeding joyfully and suffering greatly. Once defined, a person spends a lifetime keeping core values strong and life-influencing. Ignore or discard human core values at great risk. The result of such foolishness is seen in people and communities that are self-centered, addicted to personal power, willing to cause pain in order to personally prosper, ethically and morally bankrupt. In fact, those are expressions of a different set of core values.
To loosely paraphrase the biblical character Joshua, folks it’s deciding time! Let every woman and man make up their minds…daily, even hourly…which core values will direct life, which you will choose and celebrate. Joshua laid it all out for the people…options and opportunities. He told the assembled tribe: each of you has the choice to make: you can serve the gods of power and deception, “but as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.” “Serve” is the operative word. What’s the point of following Jesus if I don’t live like he lived?
Lord, on this good day give me the audacity of the Woodpecker as I face the challenges that come my way. May I be bold to speak and fearless in my actions to address justice and mercy.
I could do without the red hair, though, and the hard head and that squeaky voice. I’ll leave that up to you, Lord. Thank you. Amen.
Now what do we do? Our nest is gone. Where do we go? Life is often “Now what?” After the accident, following the death of a loved one, in the aftermath of medical tests, when cheated or betrayed by someone you trusted, when you try but fail: “Now what?”
In the case of the two ducks in the river, start swimming, keep your eyes open, try not to feel sorry for yourself, be alert to every moment, test possibilities, don’t rush.
Through the smoke and ashes, paddle on until the monster turns into a memory, light replaces shadows, and the river begins to sing again. It will happen. Don’t be afraid. Whether you feel it or not, you are not alone.
Dense black smoke filled the sky, billowing smoke, rolling and churning. The fire raged along both sides of the quiet Santa Cruz River. Old foliage, trimmed from tall, healthy trees, had been left to decompose along the river, and after many trimmings, a perfect fuel supply was waiting for the spark that started it all. It was painful to watch from a distance as fire fighters tried to contain the blaze in almost-100 degree weather. As soon as it seemed to calm, the fire would jump to another fuel source and off it would go.
Now, two days later, all that remains is scorched and scarred earth, the stronger and healthier trees, and the little river that continues to flow. A number of observations can be made about this potentially destructive blaze. Nature has a way of renewing and restoring life when something like this happens. The soil is now enriched with nutrients, there is room for new growth. It won’t be long before green shoots break through the black, hard surface. But the most encouraging thing about this rather sad sight is the river. The river. It flows through the center of the woundedness and everywhere it touches, it encourages new life.
I walked the shoreline path this morning, mourning the loss of the lovely green colors that were present two days ago, but also deeply aware of healing already happening. When I stopped in the silence, just as the sun was rising over the mountains, I could hear the river singing still. It bubbled and bounced over rocks, tickled the wounded shoreline and promised renewal. Two ducks stood on the path looking down over the river, a bright yellow bird skipped from one barren limb to another, a single dove fluttered above my head. It was as if they were all out looking for new trees to call home. And they will find them; the river will see to that. It is life-giving and life-sustaining.
“A river flows out of Eden to water the garden of creation.” Straight from the heart of God. Spend a few minutes today with Psalm 46. There you will find water for your spirit, refreshment for your soul. “God is our strength and our refuge, a very present help in trouble. Therefore, we will not fear…there is a river whose streams make glad the city of God. God is in the midst of the city; it will not be moved…come behold the works of the Lord. Be still and know that I am God.”
In the stillness of this morning, after billowing black smoke blotted the sky, the air is clear, the sun shines brightly, birds chirp and dance from limb to limb, and the river continues to sing. It is a song of hope that we all need.
I have an idea! Instead of bringing the flowers to her, bring her to the flowers! No, I’m not cheap, but, then, neither are store-bought bouquets. Do you know how much this one would cost from the local florist? But that’s not the point.
A handful of artificially sustained dead flowers wrapped in a plastic (plastic!) sleeve, or an earth arrangement? Living, vibrant, begging to share a medley of sweet and musty fragrances? Look at them! Standing in full display because each flower is attached to life, not like those in the plastic shroud that are now drooping because they were left in the back seat of the car when you ran into the hardware store, bumped into Bob and talked for thirty minutes.
I may be the first to ever call God the Divine Designer of Delicate Daffodils, but if the shoe fits…so to speak. Do you realize the advantages of taking her to the flowers instead of the other way around? Fresh air! Time together! Enormous variety! Adventure! Relationship with the Earth! Keeping one more piece of plastic out of the trash dump! So, when Mothers’ Day rolls around early next month, take her to the flowers! What?
Never mind. Put him in the car and take him to the hardware store. Let him roam the aisles for an hour. It’s almost the same. Thank you, God, for beautiful flowers and for those wonderful aisles of paint brushes, drip-line spaghetti, and toilet tank flappers.
The route of my morning walk. To my far left is the Santa Cruz River, at this point in its journey, a singing, bubbling waterway lined by tall shade trees. Then to my immediate left, between me and the river, is the wonderful bike/walking loop that circles the entire city of Tucson. It has been very recently resurfaced and stripped so that it is even more appealing than it was in its original state. Cyclists whiz by and walkers stroll along. It is a great way to start the morning. But as lovely as those two features are, I am drawn to the dirt trail in the photo. I find it refreshing and more in keeping with my desire to experience the subtle relatedness of human and earth. I think it’s the crunch of the gravel. Planting my foot on the earth seems more satisfying than walking on asphalt. Try it sometime. Listen to the earth speak. You might even consider taking your boots off and walking barefoot through green grass in a nearby park. Of that I can only dream. Green grass in the Sonoran Desert is a contradiction in terms. And even if I found some, it would be a short walk.
Thanks be to God for the earth that sustains us, provides us joy, and talks to us in each step of a wonderful walk.
On those days when I need a good laugh, I know where to go. Or wisdom, same place. Or direction in the face of a problem, right there. Many of us head for the local bookstore and peruse the “Self Help” section. There must be a book that will offer positive suggestions. And there is. It might be on your bookshelf already. Actually it is a book within a book; a collection of wisdom that is timeless. It’s called Proverbs: The Wise Sayings of Solomon, and it’s tucked in between the beauty the Psalms and the rather sad observation of life’s futility in the book called Ecclesiastes. Mixed in with ancient wisdom that has been modified by time and circumstances, you will find little nuggets of truth that are eternally relevant and rewarding. For instance: who can argue with this statement…”Don’t be greedy, merciless and cruel as wolves, tearing into the poor and feasting on them, shredding the needy to pieces only to discard them.” Or, this one that most parents should memorize: “Four things amaze me; no, four things I’ll never understand: how an eagle flies so high in the sky, how a snake glides over a rock, how a ship navigates the ocean, and why adolescents act the way they do.”
The Book of Proverbs is a potpourri of ancient wisdom and practical truth. Have a look for yourself, but when you do remember this: there are several translations of the Old and New Testaments, so the exact wording might vary. The ones I’ve shared are from Eugene Peterson’s “The Message.”
One more that has a very contemporary ring, one that reminds me of the teaching and demand of Jesus when people wanted to know the essence of his message: “Speak up for the poor who have no voice, for the rights of all the misfits. Speak out for justice! Stand up for the poor and destitute!”
It’s in the book. It ought to be engraved on our hearts.
I know today is not Memorial Day; it’s about four days away. On that day, you and I will remember and honor men and women who died while serving in the Armed Forces of our nation. We will wave a flag, say a prayer, watch a parade and think about a family member or a neighbor who rests beneath a white marble marker. It’s a very special day, as it should be. This is called ultimate sacrifice.
When I looked at the photo this morning, my mind went first to Memorial Day and then to a jarring reality: those precisely placed markers are there 364 other days. Is the depth of my appreciation measured by one day on the calendar? Is the depth of my faith measured by my attendance weekly at a place of worship? These were not one day warriors. People of faith are not one day observers. The people resting on this hillside gave hearts and souls and lives for the sake of a history and a hope. People who follow The Way of genuine faith give hearts and souls to a memory and a man. Intentionally. All day. Every day.
I hope you will wave a flag and say a prayer on Memorial Day. They made great sacrifices. And I hope people of faith, regardless of how you express it, will dedicate every day of every week to the One who made a personal sacrifice to teach us how to live as caring human beings, how to serve each other in peace and justice, and how to follow the daily guidance of an Eternal Spirit.
I wait upon the morning, the dawn that reminds me of your constancy, Holy Presence; light that follows darkness that follows light. And in my waiting, I know gratitude for sleep and rest, for waking to a new experience of life, for the encounters of the new day, for glimpses here and there of your faithful, abiding presence in everything. May I have courage today to face the things I know to be contrary to the life-giving message of Jesus, compassion for the suffering I will surely meet, and courage to “press on” beyond the limits life will impose. I pray for peace in this fractured world and for those who could make it happen if they would summon the will to follow the principles and values of The Way. I pray for leaders of all nations…all nations, the ones I call good and the ones I call bad. Why is it, God, that we know how to describe peace, make speeches about it, urge others to exhibit it, pray for it when we are not willing to actually do it? I feel the highway to cynicism is wide and the traffic is heavy. Please, Lord, don’t let me get lost in this maze of self-centeredness, greed and thirst for power. I declare, with confident faith, that Jesus is Lord and no one else. Now help me be strong enough to actually live those words into life.
Forgive me, God, for the things I have done that I don’t want to face, for the things I have left undone because I am afraid of the outcomes or consequences, and for my tendencies to look the other way when my sister or brother holds their hands out to me in suffering or need. And for thinking so often in “I or Me or My” words more than “you or us or we,” especially in my prayers. How are you today, God? How do you feel about the drama played out before you among the people and creation that you love so much? Don’t forget me, God, if I forget you during this day. I meant “us.” Amen
Shining Spirit 
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