Lord, teach me. . . .

"The Lord has strewn little signs of his presence throughout the universe. The person who is observant will see these signs and know where God is to be found." - Eknath Easwaran There is a wonderful tale told of a man who wandered through life seeking evidence of God, in much the same way a game hunter would track animals in the jungle. He would speak with people he met, and when he encountered someone whose life seemed beautifully transformed by the presence of the Holy One, he would think to himself, “Oh, my—those are the tracks of a really BIG elephant!” Sometimes it’s easy to see where God is at work in our own life or the life of another. Fingerprints, hoof tracks—evidence of God-- can often be easy to spot. During this holy season of Lent, it can be even easier to discern what God is up to, as the elephants seem to be bellowing aloud at times. Other times it may seem more like we are tracking field mice, or fireflies. They move so quietly and so quickly

God is not found in the soul by adding anything but by subtracting. –Meister Eckhart Every home has one. The “junk drawer” where everything that has no place, finds a place. Rubber bands and popsicle sticks, shoelaces, chenille sticks and stickers all compete for limited space. The things we use most migrate to the top, while that deck of cards that’s missing the king of spades gets shoved to the back (but not removed, or—gasp!—thrown out). And the drawer overflows to become a closet . . . then an attic . . . and a storage unit. We seem bent on getting more , even when we have so much . And it’s all just stuff. As we continue our journey through Lent, Christ turns our hearts away from the stuff of this world, and towards the Good Stuff: our calling as purveyors of Christ’s love and justice; our unwavering identity as Children of the Most High; the never-ending love (with no strings attached) that God has for each one of us. Take time this week to throw away some of t

I wear the chain I forged in life. . . . I made it link by link and yard by yard. I girded it on of my own free will, and of my own free will I wore it. --Charles Dickens    It’s Lent, the 40-day period when Christians reflect on the time Jesus spent in the wilderness and his ultimate crucifixion and resurrection. For many, Lent is a time of quiet introspection. Some choose to make these forty days a tithe of this year of their lives, giving something up as a sacrifice to God. What began as largely a Catholic practice is now commonplace even among non-Christians, as people choose to give up a bad habit for a season, in hopes the change might last a lifetime. What if, instead of giving up something for Lent, we chose to think of it as letting go ? Let go of speaking too quickly or impatiently. Let go of an old resentment or broken relationship. Let go of insisting on doing things “my way or the highway.” When we let go of things that hold us back from serving God ful

The best-laid plans o’ mice an’ men gang aft agley. —Robert Burns Someone recently confessed to me, tongue-in-cheek, to feeling personally responsible for the many, many snowy Sundays we have experienced this winter. They suggested that it’s because their church plans such deep, meaningful worship experiences each week that we keep getting these Snowy Sundays. In other words, our plans and God’s Plan seem to be on a collision course. (Like that would ever happen in life, she said sarcastically.) But the other side of that coin would have us believe that “everything happens for a reason,” and I am not completely sure I can buy into that one, either. We live in a broken, imperfect world where things just happen. And much of the time there seems to be no good reason for it. Here’s what I do know, without a doubt: through it all and through it all, I believe God loves us beyond our deepest imaginings. And I know that whenever our “plans” go awry, God is there—no, God

In faith there is movement and development. Each day is something new. To be Christian, faith has to be new—that is, alive and growing. It cannot be static, finished, settled. –Brennan Manning We have a word we use to describe that neighbor down the way: the woman with the unusual wardrobe and a vast collection of cats, or the man who spends his days feeding the squirrels by hand. We smile sadly and label them, “Eccentric.” That word, eccentric has two parts in the Greek, which can be literally translated as, “apart from the center.” We all have those days, days when we just feel “off.” But in our spiritual practices, being “apart from the Center” is not a good place to be for long. We can become busy and convince ourselves that God will understand if we just don’t have time for prayer . . . or study . . . or. . . . And in truth, God allows us to drift away. But God longs for us to return to Center. This week marks the beginning of Lent and our forty-day journey wit