Shining Spirit

I’m not sure where or when I first heard this sentence:  “You cannot give what you do not have.”  Makes sense.

In regard to our spiritual lives, the quotation applies in several ways.  Scriptures teach us that “We love because He first loved us.”  It’s the same principle.  It is very difficult to give love if you’ve never experienced being loved.  Forgiveness, if you’ve never been forgiven.  Comfort,  if you’ve never received and experienced comfort from someone else.

Among suggested readings for this Monday in Holy Week is 2 Corinthians 1:1-7.  Take a moment and read it and let your focus fall on verse 4:  “…God consoles us in our affliction so that we may we be able to console those who are in any affliction with the consolation with which we ourseles are consoled by God.”  Just as it would be virtually impossible for me to educate someone about Jesus if I’ve never learned anything about him myself, or to introduce someone to Jesus if you’ve never met him yourself, so our abilities to offer comfort and consolation grow out of our personal encounter  with the Grace and kindness of God.

Having received, we are to give.  Loving consolation is given to us for our blessing and healing, but it doesn’t stop there.  Having received, we are obliged to give.  Was it Harry Truman who said: “The buck stops here”, referring to his presidential accountability?  Well, the blessing doesn’t stop here, not with you or me.  It moves through us to touch others in need.

So, when you count your blessings, count out an equal number that you can bestow upon the people you meet, those who would be encouraged and strengthened by the comfort of a loving Creator.

I overheard a conversation recently, quite by accident, and it went
something like this:
This virus pandemic has really messed up my personal plans.
How so? the other person asked.
Well, I had tickets for a European trip and now they are useless.
My daughter and new granddaughter were supposed to
visit in May, but that’s doubtful.  And I’m trapped in my house
like a prisoner. My church is locked and now we won’t even
have Palm Sunday or Easter.

No Palm Sunday?  No Easter?  Really?
A reminder for us all:  Easter does not depend on whether I sit in
a pew or not.  Easter will happen even if my church is
locked up tight.  Resurrection happens!
Resurrection happened last week, and yesterday and new life
will occur today and in all the tomorrows to come.  The calendar does
not determine Resurrection, the Spirit does, and does, and does.

So even if we can’t experience the powerful celebration of Easter
in the church building, we can, and will, celebrate as the
scattered but united Body of Christ.
Today is Palm Sunday.  Next Sunday is Easter.
It will happen!
Nothing can stop Resurrection!

When I was growing up in Dallas, I learned a time-honored sentence
that described disdain and contempt: “I wouldn’t touch that with a 10
foot pole!”  I applied it to liver and onions and mincemeat pies.
Today the pole has been cut down to 6 feet.  “I wouldn’t come within
6 feet of him/her.”

And for good reason.  “Social distancing” used to be “keep your distance”
but now there is an urgency to distancing oneself from casual contact with
this deadly virus that people carry unknowingly.  Today my wife and I are
going to visit two friends who need some information on “streaming,” another
term that is a child of our era.  I don’t remember my parents ever asking our
neighbor: “How’s your streaming?”  If they had, the reply would have been, “Mind
your own business!”

When we arrive at their home, we will be ushered to the backyard patio
and to chairs that are spaced precisely 6 feet apart.  No hugs, no handshakes,
no elbow taps, only symbolic gestures that don’t feel nearly as good as the real
thing.  We’ll talk about the basics of streaming, me on my laptop and my friend
on his, and given the depth of our knowledge, we’ll probably end up with an
article written in Greek about what to feed your pet Yak.  Not a lot one can do
effectively at 6 feet apart.

But for all my grousing about social distancing, I am so grateful to the scientists,
researchers, health care providers, first-responders, and anyone else who has
placed the health and welfare of human kind above their own personal safety.
If you’re looking for a hero today, don’t go to Hollywood or to a professional
sports league.  Think about the EMT down the street in the fire house, or the
Emergency Room nurse, or the guy who drives thirty miles to deliver paper
towels and toilet paper to a homeless shelter.  Plenty of heroes to choose from.
Figure out a way today to express your appreciation for one of them, and take
time to thank God for their courage and willingness to step to the front of the line.

If we happen to see each other today at the grocery store, let’s agree to wave with a gloved hand, smile at each other, even though we won’t see it behind the
masks, and abide by the “6 foot rule” which I will determine with the
6 foot stick I carry everywhere I go.

Be at peace today.  It’s a lot better than the alternative.

See the Navy crewman in the open side door of the helicopter?
He’s my best friend in the whole wide world!
He’s operating a winch that pulls me up, up to the open door
so that he can reach out, turn me facing away from the  door,
wrap his arms around my waist and pull me into the helo.
My best friend.

When I look again at this picture, I think of how often we feel
like life is just hanging by a thread; in this case, a metal cable.
Seems like what little control I used to have is gone and
I am entirely dependent on circumstances.  That’s not a fun
place to be.

High on my list of “the best feeling in the world” is the crewman’s
arms circling my waist after I’ve been dangling between the
deck of the moving ship and the turbulence of the helo.
Knowing that strong arms are holding me is a
great sensation.  I trust him.  He holds my life
when he pulls me up and when he pushes me
out the door as we hover over the next
ship I visit.
Trust.

People who follow the Way of Jesus understand
that trust in the Abiding Presence is essential
to spiritual health.  Radical vulnerability is frightening,
until, in faith, the arms embrace you and
courage returns.  Trust can be difficult in a very untrusting world,
but these are the days we need it most.

Lots of fond memories from lots of months and lots of miles on USS NASSAU (LHA 4).  When fully loaded, she carried several thousand people, all the vehicles for a US Marine
expeditionary group, and a squadron of Harrier jets.  You can imagine how much food, fuel, and general supplies were needed to keep the ship operational at sea for long periods of time.

The answer to that puzzle was the huge supply ship that pulled alongside and replenished necessary commodities while underway.  When we heard that a supply
ship was coming alongside, hearts beat a little faster and excitement rose on NASSAU
because there might be mail transferred to us and we wouldn’t have to eat brussels sprouts twice a day.  (You knew food supplies were running low when brussels sprouts began to appear regularly.)  So, at the appointed hour the supply ship came alongside
and ferried welcome pallets of this and that via metal cables extended between the two
vessels.

I tell you this because during this awful time of Covid19, some of us are showing signs of running low on supplies of hope, courage, resolve, maybe even faith.  The very good news is that you and I can be supply resources for our friends and neighbors who are running low.  We can come alongside, perhaps only figuratively now, but we can phone, text, email, write a note, Zoom, etc. and make a life-giving contact…replenish and help restore the determination to press on.  So, as you are able, sail up alongside someone soon and offer him or her that which has been given to you…love, grace, and hope.

By the way, the supply ship did not know we needed a replenishment visit unless we sent a signal or message.  It was quick to respond once the signal went out.  Just in case you are eating lots of brussels sprouts and need something more, don’t be embarrassed to let it be known.  Spiritual health is vitally important right now and Good News is ready to come alongside.

Do you see the potential danger to someone who walks this path?

Rocks.  Big ones.  Loose ones just waiting for the preoccupied hiker.
All shapes and forms of rock line what could be, and should be,
a lovely morning walk.

Today it is possible that a pesky rock or two might be in your pathway.
I know I’ll encounter a few.
Here’s what I learned yesterday on this very path:
a. Pay attention to your feet; walk thoughtfully
b. Glance up once in awhile and get a sense of what’s coming:
that big pile of rocks ahead
c. If you want to see the beauty around you, stop
and refocus from feet to flowers.

Stop.
Walking without paying attention to the pathway is dangerous.
Walking with your head down, without pausing to refresh,
means you might miss something breathtaking.

Walk thoughtfully today.
Take obstacles seriously.
Stop a few times and see what’s around you.
Be grateful for the path, the rocks, the flowers.
Press on.  Pause.
Say “Thank You”

My house gets smaller by the day.  Shrinking.
So, on a 73 degree Monday I decided to take a walk.

Two blocks from my home I found a short dirt road that seemed to pull me
away from the hard street surface.  What I found along that road was
curiously calming. It was a feeling, maybe a deeply buried memory of a dirt
road somewhere else at some other time.  When I stepped off the asphalt street
onto the earth, I felt a sense of relief, almost like coming back to a familiar place.
For me, touching the earth does that.  For you?

Walking along three blocks of asphalt primed me for the experience of
stepping off into a slightly different dimension.  Like life generally, the dirt
road was uneven; heavy sand here, ruts in the road over there, not at all
straight like the efficient asphalt surface.  I could see tracks of little animals,
a tiny purple flower waving to me from the shadow of an old, twisted mesquite
tree, and two small birds singing a duet in the distance.

I recommend dirt roads.
But maybe there’s something else you do that helps
lift the load from your back and set you free…just for a little while.
It helps to have a place like that, even if the visit there is only in memory.
When I turned around to make my way home, I looked up and saw the scene
above, an affirmation of strength slowly returning.

“I lift my eyes to the hills.  Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord who made heaven and earth.
He will not let your foot be moved…”
Except along dirt roads, of course.

Nature tries so hard to be beautiful…and succeeds.

My grandfather was a wonderful artist as long as he put the right
colors in the correct numbered spaces.  He was a whiz at “paint-by-number”.
Do you remember the artist Bob Ross?  I used to watch his TV program
everyday.  That soothing voice…the casual way he seemed to
dab a little paint here and there and suddenly produce a
lovely landscape.  Whether it’s by-the-number or the effort of
a truly gifted artist, beauty lifts our spirits and helps us through
rough spots in life.  The trick is to see the beauty, to recognize it and
to appreciate it.  I hope today you will see beauty around you, and that
you will make some to share with the world.

You are the artist today.  Your life is the  canvas.
Be beautiful.

If I take one step at a time, eventually I will reach the top.
And if I hold onto the side railings, I will maintain balance.
And if I keep my eyes up, I will see progress.
And if I notice the lush colors along the way, I will value beauty.

How we make the journey makes a difference.
Alone and fearful
or
in the presnece of spiritual sisters and brothers,
surrounded in love by friends,
valued by so many,
loved by The
Presence
Sustained by The Source

Keep climbing!

For some reason, I keep coming back to this almost in-focus
picture.  Sometimes life is a little blurry, isn’t it?

Some observations, then you make the story.

The power to do what he has done – take off – is amazing.
I watched her spring into the air, awkwardly at first
Once he became who he was meant to be, he was beautiful
She is perfectly designed to fly
Flying is possible because she allows the wind to lift her
He strikes me as being supremely confident
She is leaving her nest and heading into the ever-changing
He is rising

There is a story there somewhere.  Do you see it?

I couldn’t resist one more.