Shining Spirit

Lord, make me an instrument of your love:
how about a tuba that sets the beat
and helps the other instruments make music?

Make me a light that shines in the darkness:
a torch that burns hour after hour,
not a skyrocket that explodes and is gone.

Give me wings so that I can soar in Spirit Wind:
maybe a sparrow, please. I know you love all
that is common. But, not an eagle. Too aloof.

Make me a river of your mercy and love:
one with lots of rivulets running off in all directions
with fresh, sweet water. Do you think we need
another stagnant pond?

But, Lord, at your pleasure and for your name’s sake:
make me the me you want me to be for today.
I don’t doubt that you know better than I do
what’s needed in the garden of your hand.

Or, and here’s a thought: a wild flower waving
along the highway, not another potted plant
in the outdoor section of Home Depot.

Surprise me, God. You’re good at that.

And, thank you.

In case you haven’t noticed, there are a few potholes in the streets of beautiful Tucson. Maybe more than a few. And if you fall into one of them, even at normal speed, you may be scheduling a visit to the tire dealer, one that has an alignment machine. When tires are out of alignment and balance, you know about it. You can’t drive that Lamborghini if there’s a problem with these two important features. Works the same way with life. A life out of balance or mis-aligned is destined for some bumpy travels day by day. I think balance is finding a reasonable mid-point, a centering that encourages understanding, patience, and tolerance. In this out of balance world, we seem more interested in putting up barriers and obstacles than working toward common understanding, common goals. It’s the same with alignment. If the tires on your car are not aligned, each will want to take its own heading. To align those tires means they are pointed in the same direction, calibrated to roll smoothly. No shudder in the front end. No vibrating steering wheel. In life, I recommend alignment along with balance, and I have a particular Specialist in mind. He knows how to take a shaky life and smooth it out. He’s had a lot of experience in correcting wobbly lives. He knows all about the potholes. A warranty for his work? Guaranteed. I’ve got His number if you need it. So, drive safely. And live abundantly.

I have choices to make at the dawn of this day,
and what I decide very well may
determine the fate of humanity,
everything rests on little old me.
But I shall not surrender to evil or fear,
let me make this point perfectly clear.
You, too, have a role in this dawning day.
So much depends on what we say,
but even more on what we do.
I ask you, my friend, to think this through.
Let’s live today as if the last,
honor the moment, release the past,
look for the best, expect nothing less,
love from the heart, help clean up the mess
that violence and greed always leave behind,
live from the heart as well as the mind.
Yes, I have a role to play in this day.
With courage and faith, come what may,
I’ll live for the best, the highest good.
Do you think there’s a way, that maybe we could
walk together across the stage,
make a difference somehow on history’s page?
We have choices to make at the dawn of the day.
Together, let’s choose what to do, what to say.
If we have the will, there will be a way.
Here, take my hand. Let’s welcome today.

This is Rodeo Week here in Tucson. It’s a big deal. Needless to say, there’s a big rodeo with all the trimmings, that should be “trimmins’,” and you see a few more big belt buckles and Stetson hats around town. Even right here where I live. Yup, tonight this lovely retirement community will be eating bar-b-que, potato salad and all the fixins, and some of us will show up in the proper garb to boot-scoot and listen to sure enough western music. “One-day” cowboys will eat and laugh and spin yarns out on the artificial grass and then step back into reality tomorrow morning. When I saw the little sign in The Tractor Store yesterday, while I was looking for a red bandana, it struck me how hard cowboy life really was a long time ago. Courage was something those folks had for breakfast every day. Every day. And then I thought, same thing for those first disciples of Jesus. They faced threats of imminent death from several directions, and yet they saddled up anyway. Every day. Jesus said: “Rise and shine, boys!” And you know there must have been days when they’d just as soon roll over and go back to sleep. It took courage, the courage that only He could supply. They saddled up. I surely do admire the courage of those disciples, and the same thing for cowboys facing the challenges of each day. I’m glad all we have to do is go to church once in a while and sing Amazing Grace. That should be Amazin’. But I will tell you that it takes courage for me to put on those “pointy-toed” boots. I’ll be limpin’ tomorrow. By the way, thanks to the John Wayne Enterprises for reminding us of The Cowboy’s instructive words. But I can one-up that: “Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not be afraid.” Saddle up.

May my thoughts today be not so much on myself and what I want but more about the quality of life I will leave for our sons and daughters. As I was loved, so may I love. As I am loved, so may my gratitude be genuine and my hand be extended to the helpless and the vulnerable. Walking this earth, Guiding Spirit, is a gift I hold sacred, especially when I walk holding his hand and you holding mine. Thank you.

I bought a sports car the other day,
got a good deal, not much to pay.
The engine had that deep-throated sound,
the shiny blue color turned heads around.
I looked the young salesman right in the eye,
said I was so happy I was about to cry.
He shook my hand, gave me a smile,
what a nice young man, such warmth and style.

Three days later I cried some more,
because parked in the drive, just outside my door
is a shiny blue heap of nuts and bolts
that lurches and coughs and sputters and jolts
when I drive it through my neighborhood.
My closest friend advised that I should
call the young man who sold me the car
explain that the beauty didn’t go very far,
that I’d return the loose parts in a brown paper sack
when I get my refund, all my money back.

When I called, I was told that the salesman was fired
because he had cheated, lied and conspired
to dupe honest buyers who came to the store:
“Sorry,” I heard, “he’s not here anymore.
By the way,” I was told, “if you read the fine print
you’ll see that your money, every penny you spent,
cannot be returned, refunded to you
unless there’s an earthquake in Lime, Peru
in a calendar year ending in “2”.”

Well, I’ve had time to think this through,
and there’s really not much I can say or do.
But, trust me, I’ve learned a lesson or two.
Let me pass my new wisdom on to you.
A car, a house, whatever you buy
promise yourself you will always try
to not be persuaded by Chrisma’s lure
for there’s one thing of which I am perfectly sure:
I overlooked Character when buying that car.
I bought a smile, a wink, a shooting star
and what I got, to be exact,
is a shiny blue car in a brown paper sack.

Isn’t “Hello” a wonderful word!
It’s the very best word I’ve ever heard.

I was so frightened when I lost my way,
but you came along and I heard you say
“Hello, young man. Are you out for a walk?”
And I was so scared I could hardly talk.
You calmed my fear just by being there.
I knew in a moment that you really cared.
Thank you for helping me find my way.
You turned my night into glorious day.
Because you stopped to say “Hello”,
I’ve learned that I should always show
compassion and kindness to all who are lost,
even if I have to bear the cost
of changing my plans or showing up late,
being lost is such a scary state.
Amazing what a “Hello” can do.
If I can ever do the same for you,
as you helped me, I’ll help you, too.

Isn’t “Hello” a wonderful word!
It’s the very best word I’ve ever heard.

P.S. If you haven’t read The Boy, the
mole, the fox and the Horse, do it!

May I find in You the source of my joy even when the way is steep.

May I discover courage from trust when things seems impossible.

May I be wise enough to know when to stop and be refreshed by your Spirit.

May I never let what “seems to be” dictate the dimensions of my life.

And when I reach the top, and I will, may I remember to say “Thank You!”

I’m ready. Let’s go. Something wonderful waits up there.

God, my source and strength, I offer myself to you in this new day so that all I say and all I do will be informed, not by my own self interests, but by your desire for your creation. I offer myself as an instrument you might use to foster hope, establish justice, demonstrate mercy and plant seeds of compassion. Jesus, guide me along your Way and help me see moments that cry out for simple caring and acts of kindness. As you have blessed me, so I will bless others this day. Lead me that I might become light in someone’s darkness and salt to flavor the world that I pass through. My heart is filled with gratitude and my hands are ready to work for your purposes. Use me, Lord. I am here. Amen.

If I asked you: Where do you live?
what answer would you automatically give?
City? State? Dot on a map?
A series of numbers? A street, perhaps.
But I didn’t ask where you sleep at night.
I want to know what gives you delight.
I’m not asking a “where” but a “what.”
Don’t tell me apartment or igloo or hut,
tell me what makes your heart beat with joy.
Remember that moment, as a girl or a boy
when you sat among flowers on this sweet, warm earth,
felt the wind toss your hair; or when you gave birth
and held your own body right there in your hands?
To live isn’t defined by a piece of land.
To live is to walk in perpetual grace
unrelated to the limits of location or place.
I live in the wonder of a morning’s dawn,
in a night sky of stars, in that little fawn
that looked at me in a knowing way,
as if, somehow, she wanted to say:
Come, big brother, let’s run and play
in this beautiful garden where we shall stay
alive to the glory, the sheer delight
of seeing life with a new kind of sight.
O, to live. To live like we were meant to be.
At peace with the world; in harmony
so that every moment, regardless of place,
I might gaze upon His glorious face
and think to myself: I am home.
If I asked you: Where do you live?
I wonder what answer you might give?