Moon Gaze

Night hands off to day at Cunningham Pond.

“His kingdom will last before Me like the sun. It will continue forever, like the moon, like a dependable, reliable, faithful witness in the sky.”—Psalm 89:36-37

A favorite local author from childhood, the late Elizabeth Yates, once said of the early morning: “The silence is so intense that the striking of a distant clock comes into it like sounds from another world. How bright the stars are! How still the trees! Neither branches nor leaves are in motion. Everything seems to be waiting for something to happen. It is a time when the veil between the worlds is thin…”

If you’ve ever gotten up that early, you feel those words as your own. Because no matter what the season, one of the best things about waking up early is to be in that moment of intense stillness when night hands off the baton to day. Dark becomes light again. Another relay race is on! And there to cheer on the moment every time is the moon. Sometimes, it’s right in your face. Sometimes, it's a fingernail way up high. And sometimes, it’s to the left or to the right of where it was a few days ago, but it’s always, always there, making its comforting presence known.

The psalmist, who spent a lot of time outdoors, tells us something more—that God Himself is faithful, just like that moon. And it doesn’t have to be night becoming morning to see and receive that truth. Because on this new day, whether cloudy or sunny, it’s good to know that the Creator of heaven and earth is a type-and-shadow of that “dependable, reliable, faithful witness in the sky” whose kingdom still reigns beyond the blue or gray or storminess of all that we can see or feel. He’s got this.

Because just like the moon shines in winter, spring, summer and fall, faithful means God never goes away on vacation or leaves us to figure things out for ourselves. Better still, seeing the moon up there is a constant reminder that though we stumble often, doubt frequently, and rebel without even realizing it, God remains faithful to His Almightyness, His promises, and His name, without a hint of wavering...

His love toward us never quits, whether we feel it or not. It’s always reaching out, like a beam across the pond.

...And like the moon—sometimes appearing to be full in our heart, sometimes feeling distant and thin, but always present regardless of circumstance—God is tirelessly, joyfully, faithfully reflecting the goodness of all that He is in a world gone mad. His love. His mercy. His compassion. His grace… to any and all who will simply look Up and believe that the beautiful moon in the sky is much more than just a faithful moon. To be still and know that…

“He is perfectly faithful, because God is never partly anything.”—A. W. Tozer

Still Life

Under the bridge at Rachel Carson National Wildlife Refuge, Moody, ME

As with most weeks, this one was filled with lots of noise…. The sounds of athletes and crowds at games, and the waves crashing at the seashore, were fun. The sounds of miles of crazy traffic on highways and the non-stop noise of scattered thoughts looking for resolution were not. Which is why this may have been my favorite photo of the week. It was a picture of what Elijah experienced when he longed to hear from God:

“Then the Lord passed by and sent a furious wind that split the hills and shattered the rocks—but the Lord was not in the wind. The wind stopped blowing, and then there was an earthquake—but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake there was a fire—but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire… there was the soft whisper of a voice.”—1 Kings 19:11-12

Likewise, it’s easy to forget (and important to remember) that when the psalmist penned the much-loved words, “Be still and know that I Am God” (Psalm 46:10), it was in an atmosphere of a lot of noise.

Stillness is beautiful. Stillness is vital to the soul. But like Elijah and the psalmist, we often have to fight through all the noise to get there.

Even when you (me) want to capture all the noise, excitement, atmosphere and action of a game, the real beauty is looking at the stillness of the photos afterwards. In the screaming silence, you see details and facial expressions of hurt, frustration, determination and joy that simply zipped by in the moment. You see people. You notice what’s important.

It's not unlike this photo, too, when the roaring Atlantic tide comes to a screeching, mirror-like halt in the marshland. Because when you stop and look carefully, you notice not just a reflection but one of heaven on earth. Just as God desires it.

And so three captions of wisdom for the “favorite photo of the week,” from fellow travelers who’ve gone before…

Videos, reels and movies are fun, but… "Photography takes an instant out of time, altering life by holding it still.”—Dorothea Lange

“Let us leave a little room for reflection in our lives; room too, for silence. Let us look within ourselves and see whether there is some delightful hidden place inside where we can be free of noise and argument. Let us hear the Word of God in stillness and perhaps we will then come to understand it.”—Saint Augustine

“Blessed are the single-hearted, for they shall enjoy much peace. If you refuse to be hurried and pressed, if you stay your soul on God, nothing can keep you from that clearness of spirit which is life and peace. In that stillness you will know what His will is.”

—Amy Carmichael

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For vitamins beyond Sunday, see the Day Starter morning devotionals on Facebook at: www.facebook.com/renewchurchhancock

Beauty In the Routine

Just before sunrise this morning at Cunningham Pond.

On a morning like this, I will look at my praying hands clasped around a coffee mug.
Praying…among other things, to see the beauty in the routine of things.
Celebrating fullness of life and activity, yes,

But remembering to celebrate chill-out simplicity, too.

Because it is often here where God speaks loudest, and where it is easier to listen.

Like today, before sunrise at a nearby lake when the world was still asleep.

But all of Creation—loons, songbirds, a gentle breeze making new leaves dance—was full-throated in being thankful for a new day.

And so should I.

And so I did.

And to also remember those praying hands clasped around a coffee mug—

That God had planned to put things in our hands since before the beginning of time that would bring pleasure to both of us, and others.

Even (and maybe especially) in the routine...

A camera…to see new angles of Creation and reflections of the "Maker of heaven and earth" (Psalm 121:1) in everyday faces and places.

Two different kinds of keyboards with the same purpose…to find words and notes that encourage and point Up.

A kayak paddle…to “be still and know” (Psalm 46:10) when all around is 24/7 noise.

A basketball and a baseball bat…to run free, to jump, to remember joy, and to know that celebration and life mission are always better with teammates.

Freshly tilled soil after a long winter…maybe as a subconscious assurance that no matter how things look, "the whole earth is still full of His glory." (Isaiah 6:3)

Like today, like before sunrise at a nearby lake when the world was still asleep.

But to also remember to then loosen the grip of those praying hands around my coffee mug,

And ask them a daily question:

“Are there different ways to do what you’ve always done to help someone—even yourself—see or feel the goodness of God, even on a routine kind of day?”

And to know that there is only one good answer.

“Morning is had hand. Light will soon come flowing over the edge of the world, bringing with it the day. What a gift! Whether wrapped in streams of color or folded in tissues of mist, it will be mine to use in ways that I can foresee and in those that are unexpected. The day will make its own revelation, bring its own challenge; my part will be to respond with joy and readiness.”—Elizabeth Yates, “A Book of Hours”

Wisely and Well

Yesterday's pre-sunrise at Rachel Carson National Wildlife Refuge, Moody Marsh, Maine.

“What is life? You are a mist that is seen for a moment and then disappears."—James 4:14

Some days, you really notice. You notice that it seemed only five minutes ago that you woke up and sipped your first coffee and here it is 5 p.m. already. Where did the day go? And by the way, weren’t we just shoveling out from 37 inches of snow, so how did we get to yard work and black flies already?

Yesterday, “really notice” happened again. While walking down to the beach to catch the sun rising over the Atlantic, I passed a blanket of cool mist that was hung beautifully over the relatively mild marsh (pictured). Some of it was still there when I came by again about a half-hour later, but much of it had quickly become just a beautiful memory. Life had moved on.

It’s all a reminder, as the psalmist realized, to regularly ask God not in a scary way, “let me know how fleeting is my life” (Psalm 39:4), and perhaps in a more intentional way, “Teach us to number our days aright that we may gain a heart of wisdom” (Psalm 90:12). Or, as one translation emphatically puts it, “Oh! Teach us to live well! Teach us to live wisely and well!”

And maybe the best way to do that is to remember what it’s like being a kid and a parent…

Both of my children are now quite adult and in their mid-30s, but I still get people asking “how are your kids?” I catch myself calling them the same thing, too, and it’s probably because God has engrained that timeless concept deep into our DNA. After all, regardless of our age, God still lovingly calls us who believe His kids, too: “See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!” (1 John 3:1)

Maybe because a child often looks to the parent first for every single need and then later in life for wisdom and counsel and guidance. The child may grow up and have a family of his or her own, but the parent is always just a call away. And a parent is always a parent, no matter how old the child is. Hardly a day goes by when the parent doesn’t pray for or think fondly about a child. A parent always wants to hear from the kids and longs to see them, and always wants the best for them. The door is always open and the light is always on.

And to think that we have the world’s most perfectly amazing Parent!

But while always never more than a breath away, God is no helicopter Dad—He has created us kids to learn from Him and then launch out and make our own mark in our corner of the world with our mist-like lives. To live "wisely and well." It could be one of a million beautiful, meaningful, even life-changing things. And it doesn't matter how young or old we are. But if it is only this, it will be enough …

“Watch what God does, and then you do it, like children who learn proper behavior from their parents. Mostly what God does is love you. Keep company with Hm and learn a life of love. Observe how Christ loved us. His love was not cautious but extravagant. He didn’t love in order to get something from us but to give everything of himself to us. Love like that.” (Ephesians 5:1-2, Message)

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For vitamins beyond Sunday, see the Day Starter morning devotionals on Facebook at: www.facebook.com/renewchurchhancock

Rainy Days and Sundays

 

Main Street is beautifully sleepy this early Sunday morning.

“He shall come down like rain upon the grass before mowing, like showers that water the earth.”—Psalm 72:6.

This morning was a reminder of the unrivaled peace that comes with walking in an early morning spring rain through a sleepy town that is typically teeming with activity.

Spring rains are special because, unlike any other time of year, they leap with new life after a long winter. And even downtown in the early morning, instead of the sound of traffic and construction and people’s voices, there is only the sound of rain on puddles and early-riser songbirds, the aroma of fresh earth (and a hint of coffee being brewed somewhere), and this mysterious but yet tangible sense that God is enjoying walking with you through all that He has made.

Just as many of the psalms talked of a king and his dominion, and his family tree reigning forever, so the early church often saw in scripture types and shadows of God and His Son walking with them through thick and thin. It was simply understood and seen for the learned and unlearned alike, especially since those first believers spent much of their day in the outdoors—on rainy Sundays and sunny Fridays, and every kind of weather in between. And as they read, and as they walked, they were reminded that they could see a glimpse of the King and His Son wherever they went…

They just had to remember to look.

Psalm 72, for example, likens God’s nature and character to the beauty of nature that’s all around us, pointing to never-failing characteristics like the faithfulness of the sun and moon, the refreshing of rain showers, and a presence that goes with us wherever we go, from sea to sea, from river to river, from desert to desert. There is much wisdom in those words, especially for us here in this beautiful corner of God’s world. As a sign in a local clothing store says, ”Better to be lost in the woods than in a maze of cubicles. Let's get outside.” Because when you get outdoors, even on a rainy spring Sunday morning, you get to “read” deep within your senses greater glimpses of the goodness of God that can’t be found in even the best book, podcast or song.

Take a walk and see for yourself. Look up, look all around. Feel the rain on your face. Breathe deeply the aromas of creation. Listen for songbirds, for the distant cry of a loon, and the rustling of branches in the wind. Remind yourself Who made all of this. And then in the peace, let your list of praise and gratitude begin and never end:

God, You are....Beautiful…Huge…Magnificent

Always active with every breeze

My rest and stillness seen in every starlit night

One who is supremely attentive to every detail, even of every hand-crafted lilac bud

Provider of all I need in every season

The true Promise of hope and resurrection seen in each spring

The One source of new and abundant life seen in each summer

Lover of each and every unique thing (and person) You have made, seen in the endless colors of fall

Present and good, 24/7, even through the silence of every long winter season

Beautiful Savior! Ruler of all nature! Lord of all the nations!

Son of God and Son of man!

Glory and honor, praise, adoration, now and forevermore be Thine!

"Some people, in order to discover God, read books. But there is a great book: the very appearance of created things. Look above you! Look below you! Note it. Read it. God, whom you want to discover, never wrote that book with ink. Instead He set before your eyes the things that He has made. Can you ask for a louder voice than that? Why, heaven and earth shout to you: 'God made me!’”—St. Augustine

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For vitamins beyond Sunday, see the Day Starter morning devotionals on Facebook at: www.facebook.com/renewchurchhancock

Peace Rising

Sunrise at the corner of Spring Road.

Risen!…The greatest day in history, the miracle of a new day, the moon shining at my back, songbirds and crows singing praise, the stillness, the smell of sweet earth, a view of the Wapack that takes your breath away. The ancient Celtic believers must have known a morning like this…

“Deep peace, pure white of the moon to you;

Deep peace, pure green of the grass to you;

Deep peace, pure brown of the earth to you;

Deep peace, pure blue of the sky to you;

Deep peace of the flowing air to you;

Deep peace of the quiet earth to you;

Deep peace of the shining stars to you…

Deep peace of the Son of Peace to you.”

Checkout Line Awakening

Last night’s thunder and lightning have been replaced by this morning’s mighty rushing wind that is making the trees roar and setting the two ship’s bells in the backyard to dancing. Their joyful clanging is almost church-bell-like while reading an ancient Hebrew invitation on this first day of Holy Week: “I was glad when they said to me, ‘let us go to the house of the Lord!’” (Psalm 122:1) But their joyful clanging triggers another reminder: More than 2,000 years ago, Jesus showed up not just at synagogue but wherever His followers happened to be in their normal everyday life.

It's good to remember that He still loves to do that...

...Preoccupied with life and a bunch of to-dos on a rainy Good Friday morning not long ago, and wondering if anyone (including myself) had grasped the meaning of this day in history, something wonderfully jolting happened while standing, of all places, in the grocery store checkout line. It began with a rugged-looking workman in front of me who was carrying the surprising combination of a balloon presumably destined to be given to his child, and a pot of springtime for someone special in his life. But none of it was as surprising as his reply to the cheerful cashier's "Happy Friday, sir!"

"Thank you, and happy Good Friday to you...if you believe in all of that."

"Oh, I do! Happy Good Friday to you as well, sir."

Wow, people were actually talking Gospel things in public? In a grocery store, no less. And that was that, or so I thought. Until it was my turn to check out, and the cashier continued her train of thought as she scanned my items, then looking out the window at the dreary weather: "You know, I was just telling my husband this morning, every Good Friday, it seems to be like this. I don't think that's a coincidence, do you?"

Wait. Was this cashier opening the door to further conversation about the Good Friday I had nearly forgotten in all my preoccupation? And here? Where anyone and everyone could listen in, in a grocery store checkout line? How cool! And the door was opened, and the uplifting conversation went public. It’s easy to look for Jesus on Sunday mornings in “the house of the Lord” when God's people gather together. Easier still is to forget that...

... just as He burst forth from the tomb on that most glorious of mornings, Jesus still shows up in unlikely places by bursting in to our preoccupied everyday lives.

This was not the first time Jesus showed up at a grocery store checkout line. Something similar happened several years earlier during a different holiday....

Everyone was in a kind and festive mood, even though the line was long, and remarkably patient for day before Thanksgiving. The line seemed to be moving at a snail's pace—make that a frozen snail. Stores seem to love this. It's why they often display some of their most tempting goodies nearest the cash register, so that you check it all out while you're waiting for the snail to move. The marketing scheme worked. I scanned it all, because there was nothing else to do. But then looking up one of the shelves by the window, my eye caught a jolly figure standing outside the store with a red collection bucket and bell. 'Tis the season, after all, and I purposed to stop by on my way home. 

Fortunately, the people in front of me had only a couple of items, so I was out of the store faster than expected. As I headed to the bearded fellow with the red bucket and bell, I noticed a sign and easel had been set up next to the collection pot. Today was a special collection for a young local guy who had been seriously wounded while serving in Iraq. Instead of emptying my pocket of loose change as usual, without hesitation, I went to my billfold and pulled out dollar bills and stuffed them as best I could into the bucket. 

The jolly bearded gentleman handed out remembrance pins with a photo of the soldier on it, and as I started walking away, pinning the pin to my fleece, I suddenly—out of nowhere—felt a wave of tears trying to rise up. For sure, part of it was the emotion of being a dad, and thinking: "If it was my son, I'd give anything to make his world right again. Anything!" But then Divine revelation while, of all places, walking downtown: As I was making my way back to my car and asking God aloud about this strange reaction, almost immediately, I sensed Him speak in so many words: "This is how I feel about you, and for everyone you see around you right now, and in that grocery line. I have looked upon My kids, gravely wounded by sin, and I determined that I would give anything to make it right again. And I did.”

Right then and there, on a side street downtown, while walking and talking and doing the supposedly unimportant stuff of life, I celebrated Thanksgiving and Easter together in a moment that seemed far more significant and weighty than the goodness of what happens on any given Sunday morning....

... "You saved four dollars today. Thank you, and happy Easter!" And just as I was on that day several years ago, and thinking of the rugged workman with the balloon and his Good Friday sermon starter, I left the grocery store checkout line on that dreary Good Friday morning grateful all over again for the One who really matters in this life--no matter where I am.

And with it, renewed hope that no matter what kind of mess the world is in right now, God is still speaking to and through His kids today right in the middle of it all—in “the house of the Lord” on Sunday for sure, but perhaps most loudly and urgently in the streets, the daily grind, and in the grocery store checkout lines.

"This is my Father's world...He speaks to me everywhere."

—Hymn, by Maltbie D. Babcock