Lord, teach me. . . .

  Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing, only a signal shown, and a distant voice in the darkness. So on the ocean of life, we pass and speak one another, only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.  –Henry Wadsworth Longfellow   We are owned by two cats, Howard and Tucker. I have had cats (or they have had me) my whole life—but these two are different. Not just because they are boy cats, and I have always had girl cats. No, Howard and Tucker are different because they are so very, very . . . quiet . If they are talking, it’s because they truly have something to say. If Tucker is thirsty, he jumps up in the bathroom sink and tells me. Mom? Mom! That’s exactly what it sounds like. If Howard wants to play, he gives me this teeny, tiny, high-pitched meh that says it all. Men of few words, each word loaded with meaning. Frankly, I am not used to that. In cats or in humans. It is a special relationship that has little need for words or so

Memories of our lives, of our works and deeds,  will continue in others. –Rosa Parks   In the States, this coming weekend marks Memorial Day, when we pause to remember all who gave their lives fighting for this country. It’s an important time, and an important thing to do. But for churches, it can be difficult. It can be hard on veterans who made it home, but left fellow soldiers behind. It can be difficult to listen to the stories of battles won and lives lost. It can be a challenge to find ways to remember and honor these soldiers without glorifying the violence and wars they participated in, especially as history calls into question the necessity of going into such a war in the first place. As we pause to reflect and remember this weekend, I am suggesting this approach: Pause and remember the soldiers who gave their lives out of love; look around in your life for ways you can reflect a love for God that goes beyond any other love. Then give thanks for the soldiers who m

  Your deepest roots are in nature. No matter who you are, where you live, or what kind of life you lead, you remain irrevocably linked with the rest of creation. –Charlie Cook   Many moons ago, I learned about a type of grass used in the southwest, where lawns are hard to keep green because deep roots are hard to cultivate. It’s called zoysia grass, and it is something else. On the surface, zoysia looks pretty much like grass, a little crabby, with broader blades to channel moisture into its roots. Those roots are where zoysia is so amazing. Under the ground, where no one sees, zoysia is putting down a root system that not only goes into the ground; it also goes across the ground at the same time. As it does so, the roots interlock like the fingers of a child in prayer, and in so doing, zoysia chokes back the roots of less desirable plants, those things we call weeds . Over time, a zoysia lawn becomes healthy and able to withstand drought and hardship. Zoysia grass may n

  Nothing in fine print is ever good news. –Andy Rooney   When was the last time you actually read the back of your credit card statement or your electric bill? You know—the part with all the conditions and restrictions, the fine print that makes young eyes grow wide in fear of retribution and late fees. Our lives are filled with fine print, clauses that make a good deal seem not-so-good after all. What you see isn’t always what you get, is it? Fortunately, in our faith lives it’s different. In the Scriptures we read a lot about God’s unconditional love . God loves us, just because. There are no ifs, ands or buts. God thinks of you and God’s heart is warmed. God looks beyond the “fine print” we add to our lives (“If only I were younger . . . thinner . . . had a nicer car . . .) and sees the good work begun in you, a work that continues, in big ways and small, our whole lives long. In a nutshell: God loves you. Period. I cannot say this often enough. This is the Good News. You a

  Growth is never by mere chance; it is the result of forces working together.  – (J. C.) Penney There is a parable in Scripture where Jesus tells of a farmer sowing seed. Depending on many factors, the seed may die or flourish. The most important variable seems to be the soil on which the seed is cast. In other words, plant the seed as instructed using the best potting soil or fertilized dirt available, and the likelihood of success is much higher. True enough.  So if this is a parable about our lives, what, exactly, are the seeds? And the dirt? Good questions.  When I was teaching years ago, every spring we would plant sunflower seeds in a clear cup so the children could better understand this whole growing process. They watched as the taproot headed deeper and the two flat leaves first appeared. Sure enough, there really was a plant inside that seed! But without dirt, water and light, no plant. And especially, with no little farmer child to tend the plants—they wither a