Lord, teach me. . . .

It’s not too late to change direction if you’re not at peace with the life you have now. Don’t put a deadline on your happiness. --Anonymous Happy New Year! On the liturgical church calendar, this coming Sunday marks the start of Advent. The word Advent means coming , or arrival . As Christians, we take this to mean the arrival of the Christ Child, the one of whom the prophets spoke, born to Mary and Joseph in Bethlehem. The next four weeks, our hearts are filled with anticipation, joy and hope . It’s somehow fitting, as we in the States have just celebrated Thanksgiving, our day officially set aside to recognize just how blessed we are (whether we use that language or not), and to remember that not everyone has it so good. Rev. William Barber talks about his grandmama, a tremendous cook, who would spend an afternoon over the stove, feed her family—and then head out to visit those who had less, taking delicious, hot meals with her. She called it going out to hope

Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow.  –Melody Beattie My pastor friend James lives in Chico, California, not far from Paradise. His church recently voted to close its doors, but in the wake of the horrific fires, their doors are open again. Members of surrounding communities have come together, bringing clothing and shoes and diapers and more. The clothes come by the truckload. People are offering new shirts, new jeans, socks, underwear—everything. One day this past week, James filled the bed of his pickup truck with clothing and set off for a distribution center in another community. To get there, he hopped on the local toll road, realizing that it would cost him $5 to drive the toll road—but it was fastest, and these people who had lost so much deserved a break. So he set off, a man on a mission. A pastor with a purpose. As James neared the end of his drive, he took the exit off the toll road and chose a gate

He drew a circle that shut me out— Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout. But love and I had the wit to win: We drew a circle and took him in! --Edwin Markham It makes a soul weary, doesn’t it? Every night on the evening news, there’s something. Wars of words, wars of power. Fistfights, gunfights. Angry, shouting, red-faced neighbors and friends who suddenly seem transformed into complete strangers. What is going on in our nation and in the world? We find ourselves caught between the need to be informed—and the desire to remain reasonably sane in the midst of such insanity. And while everyone seems to have an answer, somehow any sort of solution evades our grasp. Here’s my innocent, naïve take on how we should be living this day: In God’s created order, God did not create other . We are all one family in Christ. Does this mean we all need to agree, all the time? Heavens, no! (How boring would that be?) But it does mean that as in any loving community, God expe

Still, a man hears what he wants to hear— and disregards the rest. –Paul Simon Early season baseball is always an adventure. The weather is often more winter than spring; players are bundled up so tightly, they’re barely recognizable without the number on their back. Attendance? Well, some nights, five thousand guests is a good number. The Beer Guy ’s voice echoes through the ballpark. Lines at the coffee stand circles around, while workers at the cold drink stands stand idly by, chatting amongst themselves. Five thousand people in a ballpark that holds nearly 40,000. The guy with the foul mouth is having a heyday, knowing his voice will carry on a night like this! Fans try out every seat in the place, comparing this view and that, hollering across the sections to one another. Workers (like me) stamp their feet, trying to stay warm. Five thousand people. Hardly anyone here tonight , they say. Hardly worth the effort . And yet. And yet, when five thous