Thankful

Photo: Hannah Skelly @unsplash.com

"To be grateful is to recognize the love of God in everything."—Thomas Merton

Outside, the air was November-brisk. Inside, all was warm with good food, conversation and gales of laughter. Friday was another wonderful Friday night in my little hometown. Until I suddenly realized it was more than that.

I think I first noticed it when the happy vibes of the restaurant became so vibey that our server had to lean in to hear what we wanted to order. And to the left, a large table of friends had gathered to happily celebrate someone’s special occasion, although I couldn’t tell what exactly. It didn’t really matter. What struck me was…a sudden wave of thanksgiving, gratitude and an answer to a strangely-worded prayer. It wasn’t all that long ago, really….

…While taking an evening walk in my little hometown in late March of last year, I remember being so struck with the sadness of seeing neighbors avoiding one another and crossing to the other side of the street when they saw you coming. Everything was on COVID lockdown and safety awareness. No dining out, no gathering with friends at the game or in church—for days, for weeks, and sometimes for months—and every feeling within had a very deep, mournful “this ain’t right” sigh to it. And I remember writing afterwards: 

“I want my community back—my hometown and its neighborly sidewalks, my co-workers, my friends at Nonie’s and at church….When this is over, I know there will be nothing sweeter than being able to stand shoulder to shoulder with the hometown crowd cheering and shouting at the basketball game, or…

...going to the loudest restaurant I can find just so I can hear people laugh with one another…”

 

And here it was! It had happened! This thing may never be fully over, but we have come out on the other side after all. And not only that,  just as I strangely prayed, I got to stand shoulder to shoulder with the hometown crowd cheering and shouting at a soccer game (basketball hasn’t started yet), and now here I was delighting in “the loudest restaurant I can find just so I can hear people laugh with one another.”

What seemed impossible 18 months ago, and even only dimly possible this spring, all came together in thankfulness in that hometown restaurant on Friday night. And those sidewalks of avoidance? They have been replaced by friendly nods or a “hello!” (miracle alert—New Englanders just don’t do that), and while there are still face coverings, there are more frequent unveilings of  “hey, I remember you now!” smiles of neighbors and friends.

The meal and service and friendship in “the loudest restaurant I can find so I can hear people laugh with one another” were fantastic. But the best part may have been the Thanksgiving take-out menu I reminded myself to carry with me this week and all the other weeks to come, to remember to be thankful for all blessings huge and small, and especially to remember the Source of them all…

…Thank You that “I lay down and slept safely; I awakened, for You sustained me.” (Psalm 3:5)

Thank You that no matter what the headlines say, “This is the day that You have made, so I will rejoice and be glad in it.” (Psalm 118:24)

Thank You for family, friends and the air I breathe, that You alone “give life and breath to everything, and satisfy every need.” (Acts 17:25)

Thank You that no matter what others may think of me or what I think of myself, that in Your eyes, “I am fearfully and wonderfully made.” (Psalm 139:14)

Thank You for the “incredible quality of love You have shown to us, that we would be permitted to be named and called and counted the children of God! And so we are!”  Wow. (1 John 3:1)

Thank You that even on those days when I feel alone—even in a crowd—I’m not because Your name is “God with us” and You have promised “never will I leave you, never will I abandon you.” (Hebrews 13:5)

Thank You that though truthfulness is lacking in a big way all around us, I know I can trust You because “it is impossible for God to lie.” (Hebrews 6:18)

Thank You that in a world with too much deception and lack of integrity, You alone are “not a human who changes his mind. Whatever You promise, You do; You speak, and it is done.” (Numbers 23:19)

Thank You that no matter how chaotic and out of control this world may look, “The earth belongs to You, and everything in it — the world and all its people.” (Psalm 24:1)

Thank You for the reminder that being thankful “strengthens my faith.” (Colossians 2:6-7)

And thank You especially that no matter what, You never quit on anything or in the midst of any bleak situation, that “You are good and Your love endures forever.” (Psalm 106:1)

“If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you, it will be enough.—Meister Eckhart

Parable of the Faithful Usher

(Photo: Karl Fredrickson @unsplash.com)

"... Possess a greater concern for what matters to others instead of your own interests.—Philippians 2:4, Passion Translation

There is a Love story out there that’s always waiting to happen. Not the boy meets girl kind, but the one in which one preoccupied self meets another preoccupied self, and God shows up with the thunderous cheers and applause of heaven. It’s a Love story that doesn't make the headlines of social media or the society pages of the local newspaper. In fact, while it is happening, the two parties don’t even realize that it is Love, only a wonderfully strange, undefinable sense that whatever it is is right and very good, and not of this world.

Around here, those kind of Love stories waiting to happen can be especially difficult. There will always be the one preoccupied self who though not hard-hearted or cold is so focused on what needs to be done on their “to do” list that they seldom look up until it’s done.

Just about everyone, at one time or another, has owned that t-shirt.

But then, the other preoccupied self is so private, so not wanting to bother anyone with their troubles and worries big or small, that they think it a sign of strength and New England ruggedness to keep it to themselves.

Quietly, and deep inside, though, are a thousand letters they’ve started writing with shaking hands and both a shaky and screaming voice to God wondering out loud, “does anybody really care…really? I mean, everyone’s got their own life to worry about.”

Just about everyone, at one time or another, has owned that t-shirt, too.

But even around here, the idea of the two coming together is not so far-fetched. Consider, the Parable of the Faithful Usher… 

….There once was a faithful usher, a servant of the church, who loved God much. He was always very busy trying to do good, doing lots of church stuff. For several months, the usher made it a point to go greet and shake the hand of someone new, someone visiting, and a particular man who always seemed lost in his thoughts or disconnected in some fashion. The faithful usher observed that the man mostly kept to himself but still seemed to enjoy being at church. For months, the faithful usher would smile and say “good morning!”, and for months the seemingly disconnected man quietly responded, "thank you, good morning to you, too." Then the faithful usher would go on with his ushering, and whatever else it was he felt he had to do and see to help keep the church running smoothly. But then one week, when the faithful usher said the same “Good morning, and how are you?,” the Love story-in-the-making greeting dance took on a different flavor. The seemingly disconnected man replied, "Are you just being friendly or do you really want to know?" The faithful usher smiled, but he was also set back on his heels, because the disconnected man was right—and he wondered if, just maybe, it was Jesus in disguise asking: "are you too preoccupied with your own little world to hear what is weighing down and preoccupying the world of a brother? You've got time to listen and to be there. Will you?” And the faithful usher gladly stopped being busy doing good and did something much better—he took time and listened, he cared, he prayed on the spot... and as he left, somewhere angels were singing. Real Love was in the air everywhere....

“As He saw many people, He had loving-pity on them. They were troubled and were walking around everywhere. They were like sheep without a shepherd.”—Matthew 9:36, New Life Version

The Parable of the Faithful Usher is a Love story Jesus is always wanting to bring about, if only we will pay attention…and follow through. He alone is the Light of the world, but His light was always meant to shine brightest through all who believe in His name and seek to follow. It’s not just any kind of Light, either. It’s the kind of Light where our Sunday-best worship is supposed to have “feet on” and not left behind as we head out the door. It’s the kind of Light where the most effective ministry methods aren’t always preaching, programs, or about being busy doing church “stuff." And especially, it’s not about waiting for the perfect moment and mood.

"Do you really want to know?"

Sometimes, in His footsteps, the Light we need most for a Love story that really matters is to be willing take a few minutes to listen (and be slow to offer advice), pray, and let God take it from there.

"Ministry...is simply loving the person in front of you. It's about stopping for the one and being the very fragrance of Jesus."—Heidi Baker

(Originally published August 19, 2018)

You Can Take It With You

(Photo: Anna Earl @unsplash.com)

Not every little kid’s experience is the same, but when it was Sunday morning back in the day and I knew the family would be going to church, I kind of looked forward to it. Even though I didn’t understand most of it and was bored by a lot of it, there was something that felt…good. It might have helped that there was always juice and cookies afterwards. Or that sweet old ladies would sneak pieces of candy into my hand during the sermon. Or that I just loved to hear a bunch of people singing. The best part, of course, was always when it was over, and being with family and enjoying Sunday dinners.

Fast forward many decades, and though I now “get” what going to church is all about and love being there for many better reasons than juice and candy, when it’s all over is no longer the best part. In fact, it’s a weird part. It has nothing to do with the fact that family has moved on or “graduated” and with it the Sunday dinners. Instead, there’s this strange emptiness that happens each time when I head out the church doors toward home. “That’s it? It’s over?”

Of course, the answer is "No, and no." But maybe it’s because it can be too easy to compartmentalize Sunday mornings into what the sermon was all about or to the 20 minutes or so of singing. And that is definitely part of it, but I think Jesus would be the first to say that it’s far from the complete picture. I was reminded of that this week when re-reading a social media post written earlier this summer by my coffee-loving friend and fellow worship leader Daniel Miller, who lives in southern Connecticut with his beautiful family. He doesn't just live there. He worships there beyond music and Sunday mornings. It’s been a reminder that while “going to church” is indeed something to look forward to, Sunday mornings are meant to be a launching pad and not a destination.

You can take it with you...

“Yesterday was a special day.

I did a simple thing but it gave me joy.

Serving coffee to people I love.

First with my church community and then at an anniversary celebration with my childhood church.

Lots of happy and caffeinated people.

Some I just met, others have known me for my whole life.

It’s strange but the feeling of satisfaction from serving iced coffee on a hot day was on par with the feeling of preaching or leading worship.

I think that’s the point. It’s a type of offering.

Connecting the things we do regularly to the way we were designed and then looking up in worship.

There is something about seeing all of life as a cohesive and uninterrupted song.

Sometimes I pick up on this subtle melody, and other times the sound is muffled by my frantic activity, seeking to prove myself, unaware of the unforced rhythms of Grace playing around me.

And then there are moments like yesterday, where the cacophony becomes a distinct melody.

I hear it on the face of the person serving coffee with a smile.

It’s present as the young mom is excited we have oat milk as an option.

When a person takes a sip and has a smirk on their face afterward.

As someone takes an extra cup home to enjoy afterward.

But oh that’s so silly Daniel. Theologizing about coffee.

Isn’t that the point of worship?

Orienting our whole lives to see God at work so we can then begin to proclaim his worth?

If I can’t see Jesus at work in the grinding, brewing and serving then how can I see him on Monday morning when I don’t want to get out of bed?

Or the 3rd trip to the grocery store, when I’m already tired from the week because I forgot to get bread.

Worship is training our senses to see God in the everyday, not just Sunday.

It’s more mundane than it is extraordinary.

Sometimes it sounds like a low hum in the background, but the ability to hear and see God at work and then respond is not too far from any one of us.”

“So here’s what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for Him.”—Romans 12:1, Message