A path that stretches before us like no other path.

Preserve my life from fear. Psalm 64:1

The existence of the Church bears witness to the belief that there is only one thing you can say to such a view and that is that it is wrong. There is only one answer you can give to terrible sanity, that this material cosmos is all that there ever will be, and that is that it is ultimately insane. The ancient myths and dreams of a power beyond power and love beyond love that hold the cosmos itself, hold all things, in existence reflect a reality which we can deny only to our great impoverishment, and the dream a holiness and mystery at the heart of things that humankind with all its ingenuity and wisdom can neither explain away nor live fully without goes on being dreamed. Moments continue to go up in flames like the bush in Midian to illumine, if only for a moment, a path that stretches before us like no other path. And such moments call out in a voice which, if we only had courage and heart enough, we would follow to the end of time. -Frederick Buechner

Following Jesus will mean surrendering the power that masquerades as security in order to love the neighbor and welcome the stranger. It will mean avoiding the safe path in order to pursue the good. But in a culture of fear, we find such risks all the more difficult since our natural inclinations lead us to close in on ourselves when we face danger. How can we maintain the posture of the open hand toward a world that scares us? – Scott Bader

You alone secure us in our place, O Lord, in our going out and coming in, deliver us from fear, that we may, by your Spirit’s power, let down our defenses in love. Amen

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you : wherever He may send you;

May He guide you through the wilderness : protect you through the storm:

May He bring you home rejoicing : at the wonders He has shown you:

May He bring you home rejoicing : once again into our doors.

Mom and I are up at the cabin once again watching the sun rise up over the Catalinas.

O Lord, let my soul rise up to meet You as the day rises to meet the sun.

The wind is rustling through the pine trees.

Speak Holy Spirit, your servant is listening.

 

Fear. Facebook reminded me today about Fear. There is a scary shot of the mountain Nicole and I had to go up and over before tapas and wine and bed that night. And I sure can remember the gut-wrenching Fear as I stared up, up, upward. And yet I also so remember the moment when I chose to roll past the terror into breathtaking glory.

The Church.

Mom and I are crazy church-hoppers.

For four hours Saturday we joined with Vineyard City and not-so-very-carefully counted out poblano chiles after first running rather grimy and sticky fingers over them for squishy spots to hundreds of people who formed a long line in the hot sun that reached around the corner, out of sight. And the Church laughed and hugged and drank bottle after bottle of warm water and we still felt dizzy and weak-kneed but it was okay, because we were together. Along with a truckload of very ripe produce.

And yesterday morning I buried myself into the embrace of Joann at Price Chapel African American Methodist Episcopal Church and we walked up the steps to the big brown double doors arm-in-arm. And she handed the Bible over to me and asked me to lead the adult Bible study again, reading about Mr. Gideon and the call on his small life by the Mighty God while he hid full of fear by the winepress beating out his wheat, even though I have missed the past two weeks and I was leaving early. And my brothers and sisters still want to welcome me into full membership of the body on the Sunday before I get on that plane, as I drop my nets and follow Him to the other side of the world, which is a big deal. And the Church will lay hands on me and pray for me, not so much for my safety and that He will bring me home rejoicing once again into these doors, but mostly that I might be full of His light as I love my neighbor and welcome the stranger.

And then I drove over and picked up Wen Xie, my International Friend.  Seven arrived at the University of Arizona in January to study architecture, but she has already gotten herself into a hard place, she got herself pregnant. And even though the terrible sanity of the world would scream “abortion” or at least “adoption” something in her soul whispered that this would be cruel, so I have been walking alongside her up this very steep climb. And I am leaving. And she asked if I went to church, and I had to smile a bit as I asked her if she wanted to come with me, and when she said yes, I knew I had to take her to Vineyard Christian Community. The Church who greeted her with great intentionality and warmth and the worship was glorious with the truth clearly declared on the wall even though the sermon was way over her vocabulary, and she was very happy to hear of a power beyond power and love beyond love that the grave could not hold.

And tonight the ladies from Northminster Presbyterian are going to gather together at my momma’s one more time before summer and read aloud yet another chapter of The Broken Way, the only way to love an aching world. And we will consider mystery at the heart of things that humankind with all its ingenuity and wisdom can neither explain away nor live fully. And we will lift each other up in prayer, praying for strength and courage as we journey through complications and pain and the doubts that besiege each of us. And I know that this Church is faithful and that I am held in each heart as each is held in mine, and this is how we maintain the posture of an open hand, to be like His hand, pierced and outstretched.

And wow, every day I get to join the Church, two or three gathered togetherness of Him being in our midst as a dearly beloved friend, one after another, holds hands and enters into His presence with me. And I can see the Spirit connecting each of us, like the roots of a creosote bush reaching outward through the centuries and over the seas and even across the cultures and languages; we all have the same Spirit guiding us with His presence. Connected like Facebook but oh so much more true.

Just up the hill from the tiny cabin is the secret Indian cave. That is shared by everyone.  Everyone on the mountain, under twelve-years-old, that is, goes to the secret cave to hide in its sweet darkness.

And we all think that our quiet hiding heart place is ours alone, but no, He is there, waiting gentle and gracious, He and His Church, His peacebearers. We are all there.

 May this peace go with me, as I leave the flickering shadowed greens and head into the blistering heat of life.

Selah.

Your justice is Your mercy, through Jesus Christ our Lord.

The wicked have venom like the venom of a serpent,
    like the deaf adder that stops its ear,

so that it does not hear the voice of charmers
    or of the cunning enchanter.

O God, break the teeth in their mouths;
    tear out the fangs of the young lions, O Lord!
Let them vanish like water that runs away;
    when he aims his arrows, let them be blunted.
Let them be like the snail that dissolves into slime,
    like the stillborn child who never sees the sun. Psalm 58:4-8

For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places. Ephesians 6:12

God, You alone are the judge of humankind, yet You call us to work toward justice. Help us make the judgments necessary for faithful living without becoming judgmental, that we may celebrate the mystery by which Your justice is Your mercy, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Each child of God beloved and broken… He came into the world, not to condemn it, but through Him each might be saved.

In the tangled pain and fear and bitterness and greed and lies that has wrapped its evil web around each and every bright branch of God’s creation, may I live in the truth that I battle not against flesh and blood, but against the Evil One and his minions.

This is what is true.

This is the prayer of Father forgive them, for they know not what they do of the One I follow.

Do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with thy God.

My job is to take care of my own eye planks. To moment by moment seek that my seeing is clear so that my thoughts, my words, my actions are true and founded firmly in His love. To judge not lest I be judged.

And when He, who knows our frame is but dust, who sees the heart and not the outward appearance, looks into the face of His child, whether it be the widow with a dead son or the blind men by the side of the road or a great hungry crowd sitting on a hill or the huge teeming city that was about to whip Him and spit upon Him and mock Him, He was filled with compassion.

And claro que no, I cannot do this as Christy. Again and again I fall prey to the serpent’s venom, and I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Me and Paul.

I do not understand my own actions. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. So I find it to be a law that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand.  For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being, but I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. 

Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?

Who will break the teeth and tear out the fangs?

Thanks be to the Father Who so loved the world.

Thanks be to Jesus with the outstretched arms Who with His last breath declared It is finished.

Thanks be to the Spirit through Whom God’s love has been poured into me.

Oh Lord, let my soul rise up to meet You.

As the day rises to meet the sun.

Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit,

As it was in the beginning, is now, and will be forever. Amen.

Come let us bow down and bend the knee : let us kneel before the Lord our Maker.

Do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with thy God.

Selah.

Wrapped around my wrists.

O Lord, make me know my end
    and what is the measure of my days;
    let me know how fleeting I am!
Behold, you have made my days a few handbreadths,
    and my lifetime is as nothing before you.
Surely all mankind stands as a mere breath! Selah
    Surely a man goes about as a shadow! Psalm 39:4-6

So commit yourselves wholeheartedly to these words of mine. Tie them to your hands and wear them on your forehead as reminders. Deuteronomy 11:18

But Peter and the apostles answered, “We must obey God rather than men.” Acts 5:29

The first step of humility is to cherish at all times the sense of awe with which we should turn to God. –Benedict of Nursia

For God alone my soul in silence waits; truly, my hope is in Him.  Psalm 62:6

Sue the prayer warrior and I sat on her back patio with bowls of cereal and granola heaped with fresh fruits. A perfectly crafted elegant bespeaking-of-royalty quail hopped along the back wall standing between our rocking chairs and the soaring Catalinas.

Cherish the sense of awe with which we should turn to God.

Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?

And yet we are but a mere breath before Him.

It is a joy to just set with Sue. The so very many cares of this world seamlessly roll into prayers, laying down our burdens at the feet of His outstretched arms.

Unconditional love that stops at nothing to bring restoration to the wayfaring stranger that is each of us. As it was in the beginning, is now and will be forever. Amen.

Amen.

And as we moved along her daily prayer walk winding through the foothills, we paused on a hill that overlooked the city. This is where she pauses every morning to lift up this city and her people, her leaders. The leaders of our state, our country, our world. Our big fat crazy messy beloved world.

Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

So as I continue to consider the prayers of Jesus, I am struck by “Not my will, but Yours, be done.”

Dear LORD God, today as I walk the path of a wayfaring stranger, may I pause and listen to Your voice, Your will, and may I obey. May I as my first step turn to You before I think or say or do.

Speak LORD, for your servant is listening.  

One always has to be careful of what prays for.

Oh, Terror Frenzy

In London again, Sigh, Please

Fill my coffee mug.

The Lord’s unfailing love and mercy still continue, fresh as the morning, as sure as the sunrise. The Lord is all I have, and so in Him I put my hope. Lamentations 3:22–24

Dear Father in heaven, we thank you for guiding us, your children, here on earth. We thank you that whatever happens to us, we can again and again find joy because you give us what is good even when times are evil and when we go through sorrow. We thank you that your goodness and your faithfulness penetrate everything, and that at last, at long last, they penetrate our hearts. Then we can know and be glad that your Spirit guides us. We can know we are never alone but can receive strength to help us in the struggle and toil of our life. Through your help everything becomes fruitful – good and evil, life and death, health and suffering. Everything must serve you through the working of your Spirit. Amen.

God, give us discomfort at easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships, so that instead we may live deep within our hearts. Grant us anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that we may work for justice, freedom, and peace. Bless us with enough foolishness to believe that we can make a difference in this world, so that we can do what others claim cannot be done. Amen.

Pamela Voelkel is a hero of mine. Because while a heck of a lot of us complain and shake the newspaper headlines and roll our eyes in horrified embarrassment, she is on the phone, she is writing the letters, she is marching in the streets.  She is refusing to believe that nothing can be done, that the power lies so strongly locked in the dimly lit backrooms that we can only murmur over the latest meme, sigh, and then slide our sights down the happy hour list to the amber beers.

Anger is a good thing, rightly directed. Today as I pick up my cross and follow Him, may I remember that I follow Him who overturned the tables of the money-changers and the seats of those who sold pigeons in the Temple, He who looked around at the smug Pharisees with anger, grieved at their hardness of heart, and who restored health and wholeness on the Sabbath, and He who warned because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of My mouth.

And I am deeply grieved over the terror and destruction and death of six innocent people in London last night. But I also grieve that the car bombs that smacked Damascus, Kabul, Baghdad, and Bukavu and killed equally innocent bystanders this week were relegated to the back page of the Arizona Star, right next to the crossword puzzle and just above the ad for the warehouse clearance at Apollo flooring.

And so dear Lord, I confess that I often settle for easy answers, half-truths and superficial relationships. Often. And as I drop my nets this year, and follow You, may I learn to live deep within my heart. Grant me the gift of anger.

Your hand will find out all Your enemies;
    your right hand will find out those who hate You.
You will make them as a blazing oven
    when You appear.
The Lord will swallow them up in His wrath,
    and fire will consume them.

Though they plan evil against You,
    though they devise mischief, they will not succeed.
For You will put them to flight;
    You will aim at their faces with Your bows.

Be exalted, O Lord, in Your strength!
    We will sing and praise Your power.  Psalm 21: 8-13