The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. – Psalm 23:1 (KJV)
What does this verse mean to you? Have you ever uttered it before? When did you say this verse? Did you need comforting? Does this verse tell you anything about how to lead your life? If so what?
The following is a prayer first prayed by Thomas Merton:
My Lord, God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
Life isn’t easy and we all know it. Sometimes in the midst of the pain and fear it seems as though everything is collapsing in around us, we all know this too. At such times it is good to recite that famous verse, “The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.” Those words are as powerful now as they ever were. They are filled with ancient comfort and incredible wisdom. Just like that prayer is. Now we’ve all prayed it. We have each prayed that our lives be filled with a desire to please God. And somewhere in the middle of praying that prayer and reciting that verse we discover that God is with us no matter how bad life might seem. Even if it is awful we aren’t alone, and that’s good news no matter what.
With hope and joy,
Garrett
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Division and Forgiveness
After a first and second admonition, have nothing more to do with anyone who causes divisions, since you know that such a person is perverted and sinful, being self-condemned. – Titus 3:10-11 (NRSV)
Have you ever caused divisions? What did you do? Did people offer you the chance to repent? Did you? What happened? Have you ever admonished someone who was divisive to stop for the sake of everyone? What happened? How is someone who does not stop “self-condemned”?
A couple of nights ago I had a dream. It was one of those long restless dreams that make us feel groggy when we wake up, like we didn’t have any sleep at all. In the dream I did something awful and was caught in the midst of my wrongdoing by a group of good friends. What they caught me doing shocked them because my action hurt them badly. In a testament to their friendship they begged that I apologize.
I didn’t, I refused, and even though I knew I had done wrong I thought, “Who are they to tell me to apologize.” My pride got in the way just as it often does in my waking life. Again they begged me to apologize in order that we could move on, in order that the person I hurt the most could get over the pain. In my refusal things turned from bad to worse, a fight ensued and the division I had caused only got worse until I was all alone.
It was just a dream, and yet so often such things happen in the real world. The late British writer Charles Williams once penned the words, “Many promising reconciliations have broken down because, while both parties came prepared to forgive, neither party came prepared to be forgiven.” In my dream I refused to be forgiven, because I refused to admit I had done wrong (even though I knew that I had), and all I then did was make people hurt worse. I ended up all alone, and in that way I suppose I can see how someone who causes divisions is being self-condemned; all alone due to a pride that keeps him from accepting forgiveness. These words to Titus are still good for us to remember, because sometimes we are the ones causing the division.
With hope and joy,
Garrett
Have you ever caused divisions? What did you do? Did people offer you the chance to repent? Did you? What happened? Have you ever admonished someone who was divisive to stop for the sake of everyone? What happened? How is someone who does not stop “self-condemned”?
A couple of nights ago I had a dream. It was one of those long restless dreams that make us feel groggy when we wake up, like we didn’t have any sleep at all. In the dream I did something awful and was caught in the midst of my wrongdoing by a group of good friends. What they caught me doing shocked them because my action hurt them badly. In a testament to their friendship they begged that I apologize.
I didn’t, I refused, and even though I knew I had done wrong I thought, “Who are they to tell me to apologize.” My pride got in the way just as it often does in my waking life. Again they begged me to apologize in order that we could move on, in order that the person I hurt the most could get over the pain. In my refusal things turned from bad to worse, a fight ensued and the division I had caused only got worse until I was all alone.
It was just a dream, and yet so often such things happen in the real world. The late British writer Charles Williams once penned the words, “Many promising reconciliations have broken down because, while both parties came prepared to forgive, neither party came prepared to be forgiven.” In my dream I refused to be forgiven, because I refused to admit I had done wrong (even though I knew that I had), and all I then did was make people hurt worse. I ended up all alone, and in that way I suppose I can see how someone who causes divisions is being self-condemned; all alone due to a pride that keeps him from accepting forgiveness. These words to Titus are still good for us to remember, because sometimes we are the ones causing the division.
With hope and joy,
Garrett
Monday, August 2, 2010
The Fuel for Joy Project
One Sunday morning a couple of weeks I was about to leave for the church. It was my normal Sunday morning. Up to dress, drink some coffee, go over the sermon, get ready to go. Sometimes things become so normal to me I forget how precious the moment is, or could be if I just recognized it, but I suppose we all do that occasionally. I kissed my wife and son goodbye knowing that I would see them soon. Took the same way out I always do and thought nothing of the little footsteps following me.
I opened the door to go outside and closed just the storm door as I left. Langston stood at the door looking at me smiling, it still melts my heart to see that little smile directed at me. As I got into my car and started to pull out of the driveway I looked forward and there was my boy waving his little hands, and I could tell he was shouting out, “Daddy, daddy, daddy,” over and over again. I pray to my God the memory of that moment never leaves me, it has already been my fuel for joy in moments of despair.
God offers a world so full of beauty, a life filled with surprise, and moments of inspiration to each of us with the express intent that we in turn offer the world what God has given us, joy! The Fuel for Joy Project is an offer to each of us to look for joy in the world and share it with others. What is your joy? Let me know. Send your stories to garrett@1stpresalbany.org (or mail them to the church) and let’s start a journal, or maybe even a book full of stories, full of fuel for joy for all those in moments of despair.
I opened the door to go outside and closed just the storm door as I left. Langston stood at the door looking at me smiling, it still melts my heart to see that little smile directed at me. As I got into my car and started to pull out of the driveway I looked forward and there was my boy waving his little hands, and I could tell he was shouting out, “Daddy, daddy, daddy,” over and over again. I pray to my God the memory of that moment never leaves me, it has already been my fuel for joy in moments of despair.
God offers a world so full of beauty, a life filled with surprise, and moments of inspiration to each of us with the express intent that we in turn offer the world what God has given us, joy! The Fuel for Joy Project is an offer to each of us to look for joy in the world and share it with others. What is your joy? Let me know. Send your stories to garrett@1stpresalbany.org (or mail them to the church) and let’s start a journal, or maybe even a book full of stories, full of fuel for joy for all those in moments of despair.
Minister's Minute from August Issue of the Journal of Hope and Joy
You have a story to tell. Yes you, the one reading these little words right now. Maybe you are thinking, “What story do I have to tell?” And maybe you say that because you think your story is boring, because you know you have a story. Life is a story. It starts way back when, before we can remember. I don’t even remember the age I was of my earliest memories, and sometimes I don’t know if I remember something about my life or if I only remember the stories I was told. I guess it doesn’t really matter. All of that jumbled up mess in my head becomes my story.
I was born on September 3, 1980 at exactly 1 pm Pacific Standard Time, which is 4 pm Eastern Standard Time. I don’t remember being born. I don’t remember the first time I was held by my parents or the first time my mother kissed me. I don’t remember any of that, but I’ve heard stories about it. And while we each have our own stories to tell, we find out in the course of our lives that other people have their stories to tell, and sometimes in their stories we make appearances, sometimes they have stories to tell about us.
I look forward to being able to tell Langston about some of the stories I have about him. There will be some moment in his life when things seem to be spiraling out of control, because there are times in everyone’s life when that is true. And when that happens, maybe I can tell him about the day he was born. The way he urinated all over the nurses as soon as he came out. The way he puckered up to kiss his mother the first time their faces met. And while that story may not help him in whatever he is going through, it might help him realize that life is bigger than any one moment no matter how horrid it is.
The truth is – even if we think our stories are boring – we like to share them. Today I was sitting in a living room with three other people sharing stories. One of us would say, “There was this one time…” and then we would share about that one time, that one time unique to whomever was sharing it. Then someone else would come up afterward saying, “That reminds me of the time…” and then some other story maybe similar or maybe not was shared. In the hour I was there I must have shared a dozen short stories of my own life and heard many more. And as I left our little story telling session I realized something, we had each grown closer in that hour.
Perhaps that is why we share our stories in the very end, to grow closer with others. I recently read a study that was done over the course of years about couples. This study said that when people were dating the two could sit at the dinner table and would talk on average 51 minutes an hour. That leaves 9 minutes for eating and drinking and whatever else. When people got married the time spent talking immediately went down, and continued going down the longer they were married.
At first I was a bit saddened by the study, but as I thought about it some more I realized it wasn’t such a bad thing, maybe it is even a good thing. Surely there are less stories to share with someone you know so well, therefore you are not trying to get to know them as much as you are just trying to be with them. The stories that you have now you have together. Since God shows up in the silence (read about Elijah if this sounds strange to you), maybe the silence we can have with our loved ones means that we are just comfortable loving them as they are, and then being with our beloved, because what can be more special than being with the one we love?
Now I have a couple of thoughts. First it is good we share our stories with people we meet. It is the only way we make friends, people who know us, and friends are good. Secondly do not forget to listen. It is as important to listen to another’s story as it is to share our own, because only in listening to them do we get to know them, can we grow to love them, can we move to the point where we create stories with them, and then maybe we will be able to sit down together and not say a word and feel like plenty was said.
Finally perhaps God sometimes seems so hard to hear because God does not feel like there is anything to be said. God sits there with us silent just because God knows our stories and loves us without having to say a thing. God is happy being in the presence of God’s beloved. Next time I am sitting alone in silence I hope I can remember that I am not alone, God is there too happy just to be with me.
Riding the wave of the Holy Spirit,
Garrett
I was born on September 3, 1980 at exactly 1 pm Pacific Standard Time, which is 4 pm Eastern Standard Time. I don’t remember being born. I don’t remember the first time I was held by my parents or the first time my mother kissed me. I don’t remember any of that, but I’ve heard stories about it. And while we each have our own stories to tell, we find out in the course of our lives that other people have their stories to tell, and sometimes in their stories we make appearances, sometimes they have stories to tell about us.
I look forward to being able to tell Langston about some of the stories I have about him. There will be some moment in his life when things seem to be spiraling out of control, because there are times in everyone’s life when that is true. And when that happens, maybe I can tell him about the day he was born. The way he urinated all over the nurses as soon as he came out. The way he puckered up to kiss his mother the first time their faces met. And while that story may not help him in whatever he is going through, it might help him realize that life is bigger than any one moment no matter how horrid it is.
The truth is – even if we think our stories are boring – we like to share them. Today I was sitting in a living room with three other people sharing stories. One of us would say, “There was this one time…” and then we would share about that one time, that one time unique to whomever was sharing it. Then someone else would come up afterward saying, “That reminds me of the time…” and then some other story maybe similar or maybe not was shared. In the hour I was there I must have shared a dozen short stories of my own life and heard many more. And as I left our little story telling session I realized something, we had each grown closer in that hour.
Perhaps that is why we share our stories in the very end, to grow closer with others. I recently read a study that was done over the course of years about couples. This study said that when people were dating the two could sit at the dinner table and would talk on average 51 minutes an hour. That leaves 9 minutes for eating and drinking and whatever else. When people got married the time spent talking immediately went down, and continued going down the longer they were married.
At first I was a bit saddened by the study, but as I thought about it some more I realized it wasn’t such a bad thing, maybe it is even a good thing. Surely there are less stories to share with someone you know so well, therefore you are not trying to get to know them as much as you are just trying to be with them. The stories that you have now you have together. Since God shows up in the silence (read about Elijah if this sounds strange to you), maybe the silence we can have with our loved ones means that we are just comfortable loving them as they are, and then being with our beloved, because what can be more special than being with the one we love?
Now I have a couple of thoughts. First it is good we share our stories with people we meet. It is the only way we make friends, people who know us, and friends are good. Secondly do not forget to listen. It is as important to listen to another’s story as it is to share our own, because only in listening to them do we get to know them, can we grow to love them, can we move to the point where we create stories with them, and then maybe we will be able to sit down together and not say a word and feel like plenty was said.
Finally perhaps God sometimes seems so hard to hear because God does not feel like there is anything to be said. God sits there with us silent just because God knows our stories and loves us without having to say a thing. God is happy being in the presence of God’s beloved. Next time I am sitting alone in silence I hope I can remember that I am not alone, God is there too happy just to be with me.
Riding the wave of the Holy Spirit,
Garrett
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)