Lord, teach me. . . .

The world is so full of a number of things I’m sure we should all be as happy as kings.  –Robert Louis Stevenson For Christians, the sacraments of baptism and Eucharist remind us of God’s intimate presence in our lives. They are sacred moments when God seems this close , and we wish, sometimes, that that closeness could go on forever. Jean Pierre de Caussade coined a wonderful phrase: the Sacrament of the Present Moment. This moment, this day will never come again, and God is present here, as well, in intimate ways that will never come to pass in just the same way, ever again. Every moment of every day is sacred and wonderful. I wonder how often we become so busy, we forget to stop and appreciate God's abundant generosity. When was the last time you simply—stopped? Time is sometimes compared to a flowing river. We trail our fingers through the waters or stand in it ankle-deep, but as we wander downstream, the water is not the same water we were in before. Always

Sometimes life just seems like chapters. Some good, some bad, but all come together to create the story of our lives.  --Anonymous We all have a story to tell. Young or old, lifelong Clevelander or recent transplant, we all wound up in this community for a reason. Maybe you were born here and just never left; maybe you came for a job or an education. And just as importantly, you are still here for a reason. And the same is true about your presence at your house of worship on Sunday mornings. You came here to worship, the first time, for a reason. Maybe a friend invited you; maybe you lost a bet. And this morning, you are here, again, for a reason. Even if this is the very first time you have set foot in this church (or any church), something brought you here. It’s always a good thing to pause and ask, “Why?” (Sometimes the answer may be simply, “I don’t know,” or, “Just Because.”) Ask yourself what brought you here , and what brings you back Sunday after Sunday. Maybe

What if, when God looks at you, He sees YOU . . . every quirk and peculiarity about you . . . and He is well-pleased? —Maggie Dnistran Christmas is over (finally—or already). The tree has come down, the decorations are back in the box for another year, and the kids’ new toys are already on their third set of batteries. Mary has borne a son, Jesus; they received visits from angels, shepherds and Wise Men, and now, in today’s reading, Jesus has been baptized, declared beloved of God, and soon will be led into the wilderness by the Holy Spirit. It sounds a bit like our lives today, doesn’t it? We focused so hard on Christmas, expended a whole lot of energy (and money) on making everything just right, and now it’s over. We return to our wilderness lives, our days overflowing with emptiness. Before long, if we’re not careful, it can almost feel as though the whole season never happened. The memory of the manger is shoved aside in our busy-ness. Before we know it, the spirit

There is nothing so secular that it cannot be sacred,  and that is one of the deepest messages of the Incarnation. –Madeleine L’Engle Christmas is over. We have celebrated Jesus’ birth once more, journeyed to Bethlehem with shepherds to whom angels spoke. We have followed the star with the Wise Men, arrived with our gifts—for the Christ Child? Epiphany gives way in the church to a season blissfully referred to as, “Ordinary Time.” From now until Ash Wednesday, church leaders everywhere pause to catch our breath. (Or at least we try.) But look around you. Glance at the people you love. Take in the beauty of our snow-covered landscape. Take a deep breath; smell that morning coffee, the fragrance of fresh-baked cookies. Listen for the giggle of a child’s delight at a new furry friend in her life. There is nothing “ordinary” about this time. Or any time. Sometimes our ability to see can become clouded by our past. Others’ comments or expectations may ring loudly in o