Lord, teach me. . . .

Too often we say things like “I’ll get to it” and “tomorrow.” One day there is no tomorrow.  –Alex Sheen There is a wonderful non-profit organization based in Lakewood, Ohio, called, Because I said I would . Sparked by the death of his father in 2012, Alex Sheen reflected on the promises we keep—and the ones we don’t. To paraphrase Alex, we are defined by our promises and our choices. At the heart of Because I Said I would is accountability. Anyone anywhere can request, at no charge, “promise cards” on which to write a specific promise they feel moved to make and keep. Promises have included complimenting someone every day; knitting “chemo caps,” putting away the smartphone during dinner. The person making the promise then gives the card to the person who may be the reason the promise is being made. The recipient then becomes an accountability partner and encourager along the way. So far, Because I Said I would has given out over 2.3 million promise cards across the glob

Being faithful in the smallest things is the way to gain, maintain and demonstrate the strength needed to accomplish something great. –Alex Harris I own a 2005 Subaru Forester named Sherwood. (I come from a long line of car-namers.) Sherwood and I have been through a lot together in nine years. He got me safely to and from seminary in Ashland, Ohio, for three years. When the days were hot, my ride was cool; and in the winter, when the snows kept coming and coming—Sherwood kept going. Even when I was in the middle of unplowed Amish country, Sherwood barely flinched. (Any time I would ask him, “Would you like to go for a drive?” his answer was always the same: “Sure would!”) In over 155,000 miles, I’ve gotten stuck—twice. But each time, I remembered all the times I didn’t get stuck. In this wintry weather, I don’t waste time worrying about whether Sherwood will get me where I need to go. As long as I attend to those things I can control—gas in the tank, for instance—I have

It’s easy to make a buck. It’s a lot tougher to make a difference. –Tom Brokaw One of my favorite stories from the Old Testament is about Elijah. He has been run out of town on a rail by a very angry Jezebel. He’s taken refuge in a cave, been cared for by angels, and told to go outside and wait, for the L ORD is about to pass by. Elijah pulls his cloak around himself and waits. He sought the L ORD in fire and earthquake, but the L ORD was not making a show of power and strength. The L ORD came to Elijah in a still, small whisper in his heart, and asked a simple question: Elijah, what are you doing here? Good question, for Elijah and for each one of us. What are we doing here, anyway?  Or as poet Mary Oliver puts it, Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life? Many folks get so focused on the next life, we forget that there is so much to be done in this life. The promises of eternal life and bliss can lead many to forget: the L

The soul can split the sky in two  and let the face of God shine through.  –Edna St. Vincent Millay It’s usually the first thing people notice about Church in the Circle. In fact, it’s our (second) most popular nickname: The Holy Oilcan. That green spire guides my drive down Chester Avenue when it appears at E. 82 nd , and if I’m coming down Cedar Hill from the east—there it is! Our steeple is one of the most distinctive features of the Cleveland skyline. Churches and temples were often built atop a high hill. Even the Temple in Jerusalem is set far above the surrounding landscape. A church’s location is no accident, and high places were chosen for a number of reasons. Security is one; visibility is another. We want people to be drawn to worship God. But another reason a church adds a towering spire or steeple is to symbolically draw closer to the Holy One on his heavenly throne. Add some bells and music, and people will surely know we are here and come to worship God in