Shining Spirit

The sailboat watches as two rather strange looking boats pass. No, not excursion boats. Not somebody’s houseboat. They are tugs sailing out of the San Diego channel to meet a huge Navy ship entering the port. Tugs are a welcome sight to the Navy ship’s CO because they are going to come alongside and help guide the bigger ship along the narrow channel and into a berth at the Naval Station. Could the Navy ship go it alone? Probably, but risks are much higher without the tugs to lend a hand. In some circumstances, a Harbor Pilot would be onboard one of the tugs and would go aboard the big vessel and actually relieve the Office of the Deck. The Pilot now has the ship under his control for a safe journey to pier side.

I’m thankful for tugs and Pilots who brought my ships home during the Navy Chaplaincy years. They remind me of caring friends who “come alongside” and sail rough seas with me. In times of distress or deep disappointment or death, I know they are with me. They are a steadying force, a source of calm. They help me through the challenges and into the safety of the harbor. And I know The Pilot is standing beside me, the One who has sailed these waters before and knows the way home.

In these days of national and international upheaval, in times of personal turmoil or grief, it is comforting and encouraging to feel the hand on your shoulder. The channel is narrow, but the Pilot knows the way.

I prayed for peace and I found myself in the middle of a mess. Peace was waiting for someone to speak her name.
I prayed for courage, and the first headline I saw scared me to death. Courage whispered in my ear: Are you looking for me?
I prayed for more, but rose from my prayer still with less than I wanted. Abundance laughed: I’ve been here all along. Just because you want it doesn’t mean you need it.
I prayed for the presence of God in my life, a realization that Christ walks with me, the assurance that the Holy Spirit is nearby. The response to my prayer was: “Here” “Here” “Here” Three voices in the unison of Love spoke: “Here all the time. Don’t wish for…give thanks for. In you, not out there. Live it like you believed it. Now, get on with it.”
I prayed for wisdom today, the collaboration of my mind and my heart in the unfolding of this day. It took a few prayerful moments, but then I heard: Be careful what you ask for. Wisdom and responsibility are best friends. It’s a package deal.
When I was about to hangup with an “Amen”, I remembered these Jesus words: “The person who trusts me will not only do what I am doing, but even greater things…I am giving you the same work to do that I’ve been doing. You can count on it.” I know the work is there; all I need is the will. Come full circle, haven’t we. Amen to that.

I refuse to live with a “Friday the 13th” mind. There is no such thing as a “bad luck day.” This day is what we make of it. With that gentle “Good Morning!” I offer these thoughts for your own meditation and prayer:

*Because I think I’m right and you are wrong, doesn’t mean I am and you are. It means we have different opinions and we need to talk like humans instead of acting like jackasses.
*Our children are watching. Is this really the Civics 101 we want to teach them? Is this the best we can do?
*Whatever happened to “one Nation, under God, indivisible…” Believe what you want, find the common values, talk it out. Indivisible, it says.
*Governments are elected, not divinely ordained. The buck stops at “we, the people…”
*Preemptive politics…like missiles…is a prescription for mayhem.
*God made it. We rent it for a time. Tenants are supposed to take care of the property, not tear it up. The Earth…the only one we’ve got.
*Just because we can, doesn’t make it right. There is a deeper question than merely asking: “Will this work?” or “What’s in it for me?”
*Those who “win” by unethical principles are victims, too. It just takes a little longer to realize it.
*Maybe I’ll never see it on a grand scale, in my lifetime, but I know it is true. Love wins.
*Spirits shine brightest when the tears of forgiveness and redemption wash away the stains of retribution.
*Recognize this? “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free…” As the cartoon character, Pogo, once wisely said: ‘We have met the enemy and he is us.’

Perhaps you will find something here to think about. That’s good. Perhaps you will find something here to motivate you into creative action. That’s better. Maybe your heart will break, releasing all the anguish and fear you carry around. Best of all. I know someone who can help you put the pieces back together again, and I make this prayer in His name. Amen.

While reading Psalm 139 recently, I came to verse five: “You go before me and follow me. You place your hand of blessing on my head.” Sometimes it feels like a very heavy hand. It feels that way at times because I foolishly equate blessing with good health, lots of friends, a “get out of jail free” card to use as necessary, tickets to the World Series, a dog that never barks at the wrong times, and a partridge in a pear tree. Blessing is what makes me feel good. Thanks be to God! More, please. But that hand gets heavy when I remember that “blessing” is much more than moments that make me feel good. A major component of blessing is responsibility, even accountability. I am blessed to bless. I receive in order to give. I am not the destination of the blessing; I am the distribution center. Without doubt I am thankful for the hand on my head, but it’s not a hand that pats me and says “Good boy!” I feel that hand turn my head toward the direction of injustice or pain, refocus my looking until I see with new eyes and hear with new ears. Trust me, I love blessings And I am grateful. But, I have to keep telling myself that blessings don’t stop here. I believe that pat on my head has two purposes: to foster in me a sense of spiritual gratitude and to frame my life in relation to the beloved creation.

Thank you, blessed Spirit, for resting your hand on my head. Show me what I need to see and fill me with the joy of your touch. Amen.

I wonder if he would remember me? Probably not. We met for only a short time there on the back deck of the cabin. I wonder if I might have been the first human person he had seen close up. Maybe. He didn’t appear to be afraid. He gave me a good going over with his bright eyes, as I did of him standing there in his yellow jacket. We talked for a few moments…well, I talked and he listened courteously. We made a momentary bond. And then we went our separate ways. A momentary friend. His mind wondered about me, as mine did about him.

Do you have friends you wonder about? “I wonder how old….is doing these days.” Maybe today would be a good day to jot off a note saying “Hello, my friend. Just thinking of you.” Who knows…you might be sending a note at just the right time, just when a friendly memory is most needed. Think about it. Today might be the day you make a huge difference in someone’s life by just saying “Hello”. Consider this my “Hello” to you, a blessing sent your way, a generous thought held for you, a re-connection over time and distance. I hope your heart will be at peace today, your spirit receptive to the embrace of God. You are remembered. You are alive in my mind and in my heart. That’s what friends are for.

When I’ve had my fill of murder-mysteries, foreign intrigue dramas, and political parodies, I watch elephants. You might try it sometime. I’ve learned a lot about life from watching and learning about these magnificent creatures. Have a look at an ongoing UTube series called The Herd, an info-inspirational series about African elephants abandoned or orphaned as infants and now cared for in an elephant rescue community. These huge, lumbering giants play like children; they tussle and throw dirt with their long trunks, love swimming in large ponds. They form a community based on respect, sharing, and fierce loyalty. When there appears to be an emergency or danger as they roam in the bush, without any apparent signal, the whole herd rushes together, side to side, back to back, usually in a large circle
arrangement so they can defend each other. When a newly born elephant is introduced into the herd, one of the female adults becomes the baby’s new mother, tenderly caring, escorting, and protecting the little one. When a member of the herd wanders off in search of food and forgets to check out with the larger group, the whole herd assembles and goes out in search of the prodigal. They trumpet special sounds that the wanderer will recognize and they show definite relief when the lost one comes home.
Elephants grieve, too. When an old elephant dies, all the rest of the herd assembles around the corpse and make heart-breaking guttural sounds, much like our crying.

You and I share this beautiful garden with so many spectacular friends and neighbors. The more we get to know them, the better we know ourselves. For they teach us about life from their ancient perspectives.
In your prayers, be sure to thank God for the gift of this marvelous world and all our sisters and brothers who inhabit it with us. When Jesus posed the question: “And who is my neighbor?” I like to think that he meant more than human beings. Even elephants.

Do you see what I see?
It wasn’t long ago that an angry fire raged along
our peaceful Santa Cruz River, wiping out bushes,
trees, and favorite nesting places for a variety of
birds. Great mushrooms of black smoke billowed
along a mile of the river, smoke mixed with
bright orange flames. It was very sad to see.

I walk the river path regularly, or ride my bike, and
I always enjoy a conversation with beautiful nature
who shares the land with me. But, since the fire,
the birds have been silent, the ground is covered in
black soot and ash, trees that survived are charred
and scarred. The river continues her flow, but
on both sides of her pathway, the banks are
devastated. All is gone.
Until…do you see what I see?
Little green patches of life, clusters of
determination, are already appearing,
as if to announce: “See, a future emerges
from the flames.”
In faith, I believe there is an eternal rhythm
just below the surface of our reality; it throbs
with life, survives life’s brutalities, withstands
our sadnesses, and announces
tomorrow in spite of today.
That rhythm is a gift that blesses those
who see green grass emerging from
devastation and sorrow.
Do you see what I see?

“Let’s sit down and talk about it. I know we can reconcile our misunderstanding, find those treasured points of friendship that have meant so much for so long. Here, come sit with me on this stone; there’s room for both of us. Let’s let the water wash away hurts or disappointments. Surrounded by sacred life in this oasis of hope, let’s find the way together.”

“How very good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity.” Unity, a fundamental principle of our faith. What a prize to possess. Take two steps back and look at the dis-unity that fosters isolation and ill-will, the unnatural separations of brother from brother, sister from sister, when the fundamental principle of life is just the opposite: we are by design and by nature, one common expression of life lived out in great diversity. But we belong to each other. I am my neighbor. And when there is separation, neighbor from neighbor, caused by misunderstanding or mistake, the wound will not heal unless we sit together on that large stone bench by the river and allow reconciliation to roll over us, the cleansing grace of The Spirit.

We’ve come too far to watch it turn to dust. Come, sit with me. Let’s figure out a way to walk out of the shadowy forest, safe as it seems, into the light of restoration. Friend.

Just when you think you’ve seen the best one ever! But maybe there is no “best” with God. Maybe the “best” is yet to come. As the popular song declares: “I Can Only Imagine.” Really? According to St. Paul in his letter to the church at Corinth: “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love him.” (I Corinthians 29)

Why not build your day around this idea: No human word can describe, no emotion can feel, no eye can capture the fullness of God’s love for all creation. A glimpse is all we’ve got. For now, enough is all we can see, even in the magnificent sunrise over the mountains. Live today in the vision we have. Hope, in faith, for the continuing clarity that will come in time…God’s time.

You are loved! You are highly valued! You matter! And the best is yet to come.

Lord, may I be wise enough today to discern your presence and courageous enough to ride upon the breath of your love. Help me be sensitive to your dynamic leading so that I might know when to change the direction of my journey, thus keeping me on course toward the abundance Jesus described, the inevitable opportunities for compassionate caring, and for those moments when you will call me to rise to higher levels of commitment, even to the prophetic utterance of justice and mercy. I spread my wings, Creating God. Lift me in your love. Amen.