Lord, teach me. . . .

  Your net worth to the world is usually determined by what remains after your bad habits are subtracted from your good ones. –Benjamin Franklin   A French physiologist is credited as the first to tell us, You are what you eat. The computer-age equivalent of this is Garbage In; Garbage Out . Whatever goes into my mouth has a direct effect on how my body and mind looks and feels and functions. It seems pretty obvious, doesn’t it?  The same holds true of our “spiritual bellies.” Whatever we feed our spirit day after day after day forms and shapes the way we view the world around us. It influences how we grow to interact with our fellow travelers on this journey called Life . As Christians, we are instructed to feed our spirit on whatever is true, noble, right, pure and lovely ( Philippians 4:8 ), and to cultivate the fruits of the spirit ( Galatians 5:28 ). These are the things we need to grow stronger in our faith and more Christ-like in our walk. By contrast, the evening new

  The essence of the beautiful is unity in variety. –Felix Mendelssohn   It is impossible to go through life without having favorites . I am most definitely a cat person. I appreciate the way my cat Howard settles down next to my leg, rests his chin on my shin and purrs. It is almost as if he is willing any sadness or pain to leave my body. But as for protecting us? Not so much. A burglar could come in and pretty much do whatever he desires, and Howard would most likely join Tucker under the bed, terrified. (Move over, boys. Me, too!) A dog, however, could bark and raise a ruckus. And when you’re sad, a dog can look deep in your eyes and seemingly understand it all. (If only they could be litter box trained. . . .) And if we didn’t have room for even a cat, or if we were allergic to furry critters, goldfish or even birds are viable options as companions. Not my first choice, or even second or third, but many folks prefer them over other, cuddlier pets. Point is: our loving G

N ever lose an opportunity of seeing anything beautiful, for beauty is God’s handwriting. –Ralph Waldo Emerson   When my husband first started his treatments for cancer, I went out and bought a pretty spiral notebook. I figured it would serve me well to have a place to take notes, to journal—and generally write down whatever relevant words might come along. It has served me well so far.  But it also serves me in an unexpected way. The cover is lovely, a black background with pastel flowers. In brilliant gold, it proclaims this message:   Fill my heart with JOY! –Psalm 4:7   That’s a terrific inspiration on its own. But one day, I glanced over at this journal as it was lying on the coffee table, and the words were upside down.  Something about the chosen font for the word JOY , when stood on its head, looked for all the world like it bore a completely different, wonderful message: HOPE . There it is. When your world gets turned upside down, by a rough prognosis or simply t

God’s dream is that you and I and all of us will realize that we are family, that we are made for togetherness, for goodness, and for compassion. –Desmond Tutu   I always go with Chuck when he has his infusions. I don’t stay for the whole time, but I think it’s important to be there. The last couple of weeks, I was noticing the wide variety among folks waiting for their turn to see the doctor. A youngish woman wearing a dark blue hijab, nervously chattering with her husband in Arabic. An older couple holding hands, looking tired. Clearly, this cancer journey has been a long one for them. A young couple. She is in a wheelchair. Every hair from her head has fallen out. She is weak and tired, and committed. Her husband tries to look certain that things will be all right. A woman whom I had seen at another doctor’s office, who brings her needlepoint to keep her hands busy while she waits. The pillow she’s working on is beautiful. All of us, from our different circumstances,

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 nearly over in the church. 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 wintry landscape. Take a deep breath; smell that morning coffee, the fragrance of fresh-baked cookies, perhaps. 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 ri