Intended for no one but me, but written here in case something here speaks to you. Also so I can access it from any computer in the world.
Keep reaching out. Never stop. The one time you stop will be the one time the other hand was reaching for you.
That voice that keeps second-guessing you? That voice is not of God. Ignore it.
Not sure what to do? Take Jake's advice: "Ask God."
Say hi to as many kids as possible on Friday. They've grown up and they think you're a doofus. Be the doofus who said HI to them and don't worry about how they react or if they even react. Do it because you love them and because you've watched many of them grow from little kids in kindergarten to the teenagers they are now.
You will see a lot of people you know at Mrs. Whitt's funeral tomorrow. Hug them. Talk to them. The reason there will be a lot of people at Mrs. Whitt's funeral is the same reason there were so many people at Deb's funeral, at Jess's funeral, at Casey's funeral: they reached out to others, they loved others, they weren't afraid to let Christ's love flow through them. You shouldn't be afraid, either.
Focus on the people who are happy to see you, and believe that they truly are happy to see you.
Be a pest for God. That's not your decision. If you think someone needs you, chances are you may be right. There's enough loneliness in this world without people living in fear of reaching out to others. And if they reject you, that's not your call either. Let God handle it; He knows a few things about rejection.
Do what you can when you can with the time you have. If that isn't enough for some people, that's not your problem. Let God handle it; He knows a few things about people who are never satisfied.
If the opportunity to be kind presents itself, seize it. Don't let it go by into that netherworld of regret and might've-been. Be the person who stands out in the crowd with your kindness. Don't be just another person, another face in the crowd.
Do something, don't just sit there. If you feel it move inside you to do good or to do something good, very likely God put it there. Don't deny it or Him.
Tomorrow's another day. If the sun doesn't come up tomorrow, it only means God's called it a day and it's time to go Home. Isn't that where you want to go anyway?
Keep doing what you're doing, let God take care of the rest.
Take it to the Lord in prayer.
Finally, promise me you'll come back and read this as often as necessary. Jesus loves you, this I know; for the Bible tells me so.
In Him and around the corner (and more determined than ever),
Al
Monday, February 2, 2009
Friday, January 30, 2009
RIP Ms. Whitt
Once again, cancer rears its ugly head and sends someone home to the Lord before any of us were ready for her to be taken from us.
Sharon Whitt was the guidance counselor at Wood Elementary, where my son went to school. Nathan knew her real well, as did most of the kids at Wood because she loved those kids. One of Nathan's best friends lost his father this time last year, and Ms. Whitt helped him and his sister deal with that tragedy; you know this has got to be hitting them hard. Who knows how many other kiddos lives she touched? Hopefully, those kids will carry her memory with them in their hearts for the rest of their lives.
Please keep Ms. Whitt's family and friends in your prayers. She will definitely be missed.
In Him and around the corner (and hating cancer more and more),
Al
Sharon Whitt was the guidance counselor at Wood Elementary, where my son went to school. Nathan knew her real well, as did most of the kids at Wood because she loved those kids. One of Nathan's best friends lost his father this time last year, and Ms. Whitt helped him and his sister deal with that tragedy; you know this has got to be hitting them hard. Who knows how many other kiddos lives she touched? Hopefully, those kids will carry her memory with them in their hearts for the rest of their lives.
Please keep Ms. Whitt's family and friends in your prayers. She will definitely be missed.
In Him and around the corner (and hating cancer more and more),
Al
Monday, January 26, 2009
A few minutes
I hope that heaven allows for viewing of one's own funeral, if for no other reason than the reward of seeing how many lives were touched by the deceased.
Case in point: Deb Koplen. Tonight was her viewing at this little funeral home in downtown Grand Prairie. Not knowing Deb all that well, all I knew was that she had no family. I went to pay my respects and to say hi to Gaylene, whose family has been Deb's friends for many years. I'm happy to report that Deb had a HUGE family. Not blood-related in an earthly sense, but definitely bonded by the blood of Christ. The parking lot was jam-packed, and people were packed into the funeral home like sardines. Inside the viewing room was a plaque presented by the city of Grand Prairie, for Deb's efforts in getting that city a dog park (called "Central Bark." Gaylene tells me that the city wanted to present it to Deb in person, but unfortunately time ran out). Deb loved dogs, which was evident by the little stuffed dog placed in the casket with her. It was very touching.
All of this is meant to complete what seemed like an incomplete obituary in today's Ft. Worth paper. A little blurb saying when she died, when the viewing was and when the funeral was scheduled. That's it. You'd never know, from that obituary, how many lives Deb touched in her lifetime. Who knows how many lives she touched for only a brief few minutes, but that the memory of those few minutes would be carried for the rest of someone else's life? That communion experience was one that I'll take to my own grave.
Those few minutes, and the significance of those few minutes, ran through my mind as I paid my respects. Thinking about others with whom I've spent moments with that touched me and will stay with me for the rest of my life; thinking about relationships and how some of those relationships started because of a few minutes of talk, sharing, listening. Thanking God for those few minutes with Deb back in October, and praying that there will be other moments with unknown people, and hoping that if I'm ever in the giving position of those few minutes, that I use them wisely.
In Him and around the corner (and watching out for Deb; those ornery souls have a way of keeping you honest),
Al
Case in point: Deb Koplen. Tonight was her viewing at this little funeral home in downtown Grand Prairie. Not knowing Deb all that well, all I knew was that she had no family. I went to pay my respects and to say hi to Gaylene, whose family has been Deb's friends for many years. I'm happy to report that Deb had a HUGE family. Not blood-related in an earthly sense, but definitely bonded by the blood of Christ. The parking lot was jam-packed, and people were packed into the funeral home like sardines. Inside the viewing room was a plaque presented by the city of Grand Prairie, for Deb's efforts in getting that city a dog park (called "Central Bark." Gaylene tells me that the city wanted to present it to Deb in person, but unfortunately time ran out). Deb loved dogs, which was evident by the little stuffed dog placed in the casket with her. It was very touching.
All of this is meant to complete what seemed like an incomplete obituary in today's Ft. Worth paper. A little blurb saying when she died, when the viewing was and when the funeral was scheduled. That's it. You'd never know, from that obituary, how many lives Deb touched in her lifetime. Who knows how many lives she touched for only a brief few minutes, but that the memory of those few minutes would be carried for the rest of someone else's life? That communion experience was one that I'll take to my own grave.
Those few minutes, and the significance of those few minutes, ran through my mind as I paid my respects. Thinking about others with whom I've spent moments with that touched me and will stay with me for the rest of my life; thinking about relationships and how some of those relationships started because of a few minutes of talk, sharing, listening. Thanking God for those few minutes with Deb back in October, and praying that there will be other moments with unknown people, and hoping that if I'm ever in the giving position of those few minutes, that I use them wisely.
In Him and around the corner (and watching out for Deb; those ornery souls have a way of keeping you honest),
Al
Friday, January 23, 2009
You really ARE in my thoughts and prayers!
This is for anyone who has ever said to someone, “You’re in my thoughts and prayers.” We were talking about this at Bible Study the other night and this was brought up. I admitted that my prayer life is just about non-existent outside of church, and am ashamed of the fact that I say that phrase a lot, but then don’t ever do anything about it until Sunday and it’s time to remember all those for whom we are praying. By then, I’ve forgotten. My usual response is, “Lord, your memory is a lot better than mine, so anyone I said I’d pray for, let this be their prayer.” What was surprising was finding out I’m not alone in this. One of the men in the group suggested that the very act of telling someone that he/she is in your prayers is a prayer in itself, and (hopefully) gives comfort to the person receiving the blessing.
Which got me to thinking that I’ve been treating prayer like a laundry bag: fill it up during the week and cast it to the Lord on Sunday. Maybe that’s enough. It shouldn’t be. It’s like the old hymn says:
O what peace we often forfeit, O what needless pain we bear,
All because we do not carry everything to God in prayer.
This lady named Deb Koplen passed away this morning, another victim of the evil bug known as cancer. About the only good things in this whole situation is that she had led a pretty long life and her battle was short (she was only diagnosed a couple months ago). I only met her once, and it was memorable: she was communion assistant (pouring the wine) at Casey Chrystie’s service back in October. As she poured my wine, I stopped to sip, and she said, “Come on, move it along, you’re holding up the line.” Ornery people like that are the spice of life. I was smiling for the rest of the service.
I didn’t pray for her nearly as much as I should have, if I did at all. Not that my prayers would have stopped the cancer from taking her; I don’t imagine Deb getting to heaven and God telling her, “Y’know, you’d still be alive if that Rearick character had prayed like he said he would.” (Guarantee that if Deb heard that, she’d have excused herself for a brief moment and come back here and given me a serious spiritual butt-whuppin’!) I told her friend Gaylene that Deb was in my prayers, but again, what prayers? My weekly castings of the group of forgotten folks to whom I’d made an empty promise? And is it an empty promise if the person to whom I say “You’re in my prayers” never finds out that I forgot to pray specifically for them? Maybe not to them, but I have to think it makes a difference to God. What’s that parable? The one about the man who, when given a task, says to his master “I’m not doing that,” but then does it anyway; then the other man who, when given a task, says to his master “I’ll do it,” but then doesn’t. Jesus doesn’t give reasons why this man never completes his task, only that the man does not complete the task. So, though it may not be an empty promise to the person, it’s an empty promise to God. God stands at the ready, only waiting for me to say “Go!” but not moving an inch until I do. That’s the thing about God: for the most part, He seems to stay out of our way unless we ask Him to guide our way.
And once again, I’ve painted myself into a corner, one from which only Jesus can lead me. Once again, thank God for that. O Lord, forgive me when I promise people to pray for them and then forget because I waited too long or didn’t pray enough. Lord, grant me the discipline to not only pray, but also to pray genuinely, from the heart. Once again, this is for anyone who has ever said “You’re in my thoughts and prayers” and then never followed through on that offer. Finally, if there is anyone to whom I’ve said that and then hoped that God would remember when I finally got around to it on Sunday morning, I am truly sorry.
In Him and around the corner (and praying for joy),
Al
Which got me to thinking that I’ve been treating prayer like a laundry bag: fill it up during the week and cast it to the Lord on Sunday. Maybe that’s enough. It shouldn’t be. It’s like the old hymn says:
O what peace we often forfeit, O what needless pain we bear,
All because we do not carry everything to God in prayer.
This lady named Deb Koplen passed away this morning, another victim of the evil bug known as cancer. About the only good things in this whole situation is that she had led a pretty long life and her battle was short (she was only diagnosed a couple months ago). I only met her once, and it was memorable: she was communion assistant (pouring the wine) at Casey Chrystie’s service back in October. As she poured my wine, I stopped to sip, and she said, “Come on, move it along, you’re holding up the line.” Ornery people like that are the spice of life. I was smiling for the rest of the service.
I didn’t pray for her nearly as much as I should have, if I did at all. Not that my prayers would have stopped the cancer from taking her; I don’t imagine Deb getting to heaven and God telling her, “Y’know, you’d still be alive if that Rearick character had prayed like he said he would.” (Guarantee that if Deb heard that, she’d have excused herself for a brief moment and come back here and given me a serious spiritual butt-whuppin’!) I told her friend Gaylene that Deb was in my prayers, but again, what prayers? My weekly castings of the group of forgotten folks to whom I’d made an empty promise? And is it an empty promise if the person to whom I say “You’re in my prayers” never finds out that I forgot to pray specifically for them? Maybe not to them, but I have to think it makes a difference to God. What’s that parable? The one about the man who, when given a task, says to his master “I’m not doing that,” but then does it anyway; then the other man who, when given a task, says to his master “I’ll do it,” but then doesn’t. Jesus doesn’t give reasons why this man never completes his task, only that the man does not complete the task. So, though it may not be an empty promise to the person, it’s an empty promise to God. God stands at the ready, only waiting for me to say “Go!” but not moving an inch until I do. That’s the thing about God: for the most part, He seems to stay out of our way unless we ask Him to guide our way.
And once again, I’ve painted myself into a corner, one from which only Jesus can lead me. Once again, thank God for that. O Lord, forgive me when I promise people to pray for them and then forget because I waited too long or didn’t pray enough. Lord, grant me the discipline to not only pray, but also to pray genuinely, from the heart. Once again, this is for anyone who has ever said “You’re in my thoughts and prayers” and then never followed through on that offer. Finally, if there is anyone to whom I’ve said that and then hoped that God would remember when I finally got around to it on Sunday morning, I am truly sorry.
In Him and around the corner (and praying for joy),
Al
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Out of the cold and into the WARM
Tonight I worked at the WARM Place as a house-parent. (website: http://www.thewarmplace.org) The WARM Place is where families go to get help in coping with the loss of a loved one (that's just the nutshell version, check out the website for all that they do). In a few weeks, I'll be starting Facilitator Training so that I can learn to help families cope with the loss of a loved one.
A House Parent's duties include serving dinner, greeting group members when they arrive, and just getting them prepared for the evening's gatherings. Tonight was one of those "shut up and observe" nights, which means I did more listening and observing than talking (a first!). It was nice meeting the staff. It was sobering greeting the incoming families. More often than not, it wasn't difficult to see who was missing from a family: a mother or a father. Some kids were happy, some were just kinda there; none of them was overly sad or depressed.
Folks, I need prayers for this one. Big time. I've been asked to volunteer here as a Facilitator (i.e. group leader) in the past and have always said no; the events of the past few months have made me reconsider that. I'm used to playing with kids, making them laugh, or teaching them; I've never sat with them and let them grieve. This is truly one situation where I'm closing my eyes and letting God lead me.
I love to tell this story: when my kids were younger (Amanda was 9 and Nathan was still a baby), we would go for walks and Amanda and I would take turns pushing Nathan's stroller. One night, Amanda said "Daddy, take my hand. I'm going to close my eyes and let you guide me." I was taken so aback by what she said. She said "Isn't that how we're supposed to follow God?" So I took her hand, she closed her eyes, and neither one of us said anything for a long time (probably because I would've started crying if I'd opened my mouth). I've always thought that episode was a defining moment in my daughter's faith. I just pray that she allows herself to do that.
My friend Gaylene wrote another inspirational blog late last night (how I wish her writings would be published, they are that good). In it, she expands on Matthew 6:27: "You cannot add any time to your life by worrying about it,” by discussing various friends of hers who are dealing with cancer. She writed: "Let us try not to worry, but stay close so they do not walk the journey alone." Y'know what my biggest fear is right now? Getting too close. Getting so close that I become a nuisance, a pest, in the way. I've been guilty of this before; I just don't know when to stop (or if I even should). The whole time before Casey died I often wondered if I was intruding or getting too close or making a nuisance of myself. I hate that feeling, and I know it's seeds of doubt planted by Satan. I am torn by the desire to stay close to those I know who are hurting and a gnawing feeling that I'm smothering these people and not giving them room to breathe. Perhaps I should stop worrying, close my eyes, and let God lead me to help my friends in the way He wants me to help them. And if that means backing off, then I need to not worry that I'm not doing enough.
Y'alls prayers are appreciated. There is a sign at the WARM Place that reads "Whenever a loved one becomes a memory, that memory becomes a treasure." Please continue to pray for those for whom the memories of their loved ones are an important and eternal treasure.
In Him and around the corner (and looking forward to the day when doubt is no longer a part of my life),
Al
A House Parent's duties include serving dinner, greeting group members when they arrive, and just getting them prepared for the evening's gatherings. Tonight was one of those "shut up and observe" nights, which means I did more listening and observing than talking (a first!). It was nice meeting the staff. It was sobering greeting the incoming families. More often than not, it wasn't difficult to see who was missing from a family: a mother or a father. Some kids were happy, some were just kinda there; none of them was overly sad or depressed.
Folks, I need prayers for this one. Big time. I've been asked to volunteer here as a Facilitator (i.e. group leader) in the past and have always said no; the events of the past few months have made me reconsider that. I'm used to playing with kids, making them laugh, or teaching them; I've never sat with them and let them grieve. This is truly one situation where I'm closing my eyes and letting God lead me.
I love to tell this story: when my kids were younger (Amanda was 9 and Nathan was still a baby), we would go for walks and Amanda and I would take turns pushing Nathan's stroller. One night, Amanda said "Daddy, take my hand. I'm going to close my eyes and let you guide me." I was taken so aback by what she said. She said "Isn't that how we're supposed to follow God?" So I took her hand, she closed her eyes, and neither one of us said anything for a long time (probably because I would've started crying if I'd opened my mouth). I've always thought that episode was a defining moment in my daughter's faith. I just pray that she allows herself to do that.
My friend Gaylene wrote another inspirational blog late last night (how I wish her writings would be published, they are that good). In it, she expands on Matthew 6:27: "You cannot add any time to your life by worrying about it,” by discussing various friends of hers who are dealing with cancer. She writed: "Let us try not to worry, but stay close so they do not walk the journey alone." Y'know what my biggest fear is right now? Getting too close. Getting so close that I become a nuisance, a pest, in the way. I've been guilty of this before; I just don't know when to stop (or if I even should). The whole time before Casey died I often wondered if I was intruding or getting too close or making a nuisance of myself. I hate that feeling, and I know it's seeds of doubt planted by Satan. I am torn by the desire to stay close to those I know who are hurting and a gnawing feeling that I'm smothering these people and not giving them room to breathe. Perhaps I should stop worrying, close my eyes, and let God lead me to help my friends in the way He wants me to help them. And if that means backing off, then I need to not worry that I'm not doing enough.
Y'alls prayers are appreciated. There is a sign at the WARM Place that reads "Whenever a loved one becomes a memory, that memory becomes a treasure." Please continue to pray for those for whom the memories of their loved ones are an important and eternal treasure.
In Him and around the corner (and looking forward to the day when doubt is no longer a part of my life),
Al
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Rolled into a corner
The theme of this whole blog is trying to find inspiration in the not-so-obvious places, and this morning provided a serious challenge to that theme:
Some friends got rolled last night (toilet-papered). Not just any friends, mind you: the Kaylors. You know who I'm talking about? The ones who lost their mom/wife to cancer back in October? The ones who've been keeping together a very inspirational journal about getting their lives back together, which is linked here? And they get rolled last night! How could someone, ANYONE, do this knowing what this family has been through in the last few months? Doesn't this guy have enough to take care of without having to clean up his front yard? (That's been taken care of, BTW, for the most part) How do you explain this to his young children? Haven't they been exposed to enough hurt lately? This is not only wrong, it's just SICK!
I say this next part not to pat myself on the back, so if it comes across as self-congratulating, I apologize now.
I was so moved by this I grabbed a rake and a trash bag, went over and offered to clean it up. The look on the dad's face indicated his surprise at what had happened; saying his face fell doesn't do it justice. The hurt in his eyes..... what kind of sick person does this to someone still trying to get the lives of him and his children back together? Even the girls were kinda surprised by what they saw; I'm not sure they knew what to make of toilet paper in the trees.
Thankfully, I had plenty of time before work and was able to get most of it down. What prompted me to do this in the first place was anger and indignation at first; as I worked, it was as if the Lord asked me a question: "Haven't you figured out yet that I make everything work out for my glory?" In other words, yes this bad thing happened, but the result was that an opportunity opened up for someone to minister to these folks by offering to clean up for them. (Proverbs says this somewhere: Do good for others, especially if you have the opportunity to do so.)
St. Paul says we're supposed to rejoice in our trials and tribulations. Nice in theory; I've yet to put it into practice. That would've been an awkward front-door greeting: "Look what happened to you! Isn't this great? Come on, let's rejoice in this trial!" Pray that God takes away the hurt in the hearts of my friends, because I can only take care of the front yard. So, even though I'm thankful for the opportunity to minister this morning, and even realizing that there is evil in the world and nothing you or I or anyone not named Jesus Christ can do about it, there's that horrible sin of unresolved anger still floating around in me, as you can probably tell by the first couple of paragraphs. I'm still steamed about it.
God give me the strength to forgive, and even more strength to get over not knowing who it is to forgive. Sometimes I think Satan's greatest trick is to cause us/me to focus on the negative side of this instead of the positive. Focus on who did this, how can I find out who did it, and what I'm going to do if I ever find out. I'll waste more time in a day concentrating on that then anything else constructive, ministry or otherwise.
Unfortunately, at this moment, it's working, hence the title of today's post. God, please give me strength to see how You will bring good out of this. If it's none of my business, I can deal with that; but could you please at least remove this anger from my heart?
In Him and around the corner (and resisting the urge to go out tonight armed with toilet paper, eggs, Fruity Pebbles, silly string, and bleach),
Al
Some friends got rolled last night (toilet-papered). Not just any friends, mind you: the Kaylors. You know who I'm talking about? The ones who lost their mom/wife to cancer back in October? The ones who've been keeping together a very inspirational journal about getting their lives back together, which is linked here? And they get rolled last night! How could someone, ANYONE, do this knowing what this family has been through in the last few months? Doesn't this guy have enough to take care of without having to clean up his front yard? (That's been taken care of, BTW, for the most part) How do you explain this to his young children? Haven't they been exposed to enough hurt lately? This is not only wrong, it's just SICK!
I say this next part not to pat myself on the back, so if it comes across as self-congratulating, I apologize now.
I was so moved by this I grabbed a rake and a trash bag, went over and offered to clean it up. The look on the dad's face indicated his surprise at what had happened; saying his face fell doesn't do it justice. The hurt in his eyes..... what kind of sick person does this to someone still trying to get the lives of him and his children back together? Even the girls were kinda surprised by what they saw; I'm not sure they knew what to make of toilet paper in the trees.
Thankfully, I had plenty of time before work and was able to get most of it down. What prompted me to do this in the first place was anger and indignation at first; as I worked, it was as if the Lord asked me a question: "Haven't you figured out yet that I make everything work out for my glory?" In other words, yes this bad thing happened, but the result was that an opportunity opened up for someone to minister to these folks by offering to clean up for them. (Proverbs says this somewhere: Do good for others, especially if you have the opportunity to do so.)
St. Paul says we're supposed to rejoice in our trials and tribulations. Nice in theory; I've yet to put it into practice. That would've been an awkward front-door greeting: "Look what happened to you! Isn't this great? Come on, let's rejoice in this trial!" Pray that God takes away the hurt in the hearts of my friends, because I can only take care of the front yard. So, even though I'm thankful for the opportunity to minister this morning, and even realizing that there is evil in the world and nothing you or I or anyone not named Jesus Christ can do about it, there's that horrible sin of unresolved anger still floating around in me, as you can probably tell by the first couple of paragraphs. I'm still steamed about it.
God give me the strength to forgive, and even more strength to get over not knowing who it is to forgive. Sometimes I think Satan's greatest trick is to cause us/me to focus on the negative side of this instead of the positive. Focus on who did this, how can I find out who did it, and what I'm going to do if I ever find out. I'll waste more time in a day concentrating on that then anything else constructive, ministry or otherwise.
Unfortunately, at this moment, it's working, hence the title of today's post. God, please give me strength to see how You will bring good out of this. If it's none of my business, I can deal with that; but could you please at least remove this anger from my heart?
In Him and around the corner (and resisting the urge to go out tonight armed with toilet paper, eggs, Fruity Pebbles, silly string, and bleach),
Al
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Moons for Christ!
This is the post that never ends, it just goes on and on my friends.....
My friend Gaylene wrote this on her blog tonight while musing about Matthew 2:10 (check it out: http://greetingsfromaustinstreet.blogspot.com)
"We are the people who walk in darkness and the great light is out there for all of us to see. God offers His light, His son, Jesus, to us so that we never have to walk in darkness. "
At the same time, that Light should be shining through us. I'm not telling you anything you don't already know that the only reason we can see the Moon is because of the sun's light reflecting off its surface. (If you didn't know that, pause here, and do one of the following: call your fourth-grade science teacher, apologize for not paying attention during the whole "moon" discussion, and could she explain that part again? OR, you can Google "How the Moon shines." You should find all kinds of pages explaining how the moon shines. I'll skip the jokes about alcohol recipes. For now!)
ANYway, when you see me, do you see the Light? Now, obviously, I'm not THE Light. (I'm barely a dim bulb!) But when you see people who call themselves Christians (myself included), is the Light reflecting off them/us/me? If you can't see the Light in/through me, then no words I say or type here will convince you that I'm as Christian as I like to think I am. Same goes for anyone who calls themselves a Christian, no matter the denomination.
And it's as simple as literally flicking on a light-switch! Love one another. Help those in need. Speak kindly as often as possible. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you (thanks, Mom!). Why is that so difficult?
In the Lutheran church (or at least among us ELCA types), when someone is baptized, the pastor says to the baptized, "Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good works and bring glory to God in Heaven." If we call ourselves Christians, we have an obligation to others to make sure that the Light is radiating off of us just like sunlight radiates off the moon. We are not THE Light, but we can see The Light, and He can see us. Therefore, we should be radiating that Light to others, to keep them from the darkness and in the Light.* (Do you want to reflect the Light like the moon reflects its light? Then make sure you're revolving around the Son! HA! I kill me! HEY: put down that gun!)
(*Offering another 100 points to whoever guesses the group from which THAT little reference came! See if I can stump that guy THIS time!)
I'll close with a song that's been running thru my head while typing this. (Credit where credit is due: I cut and pasted the following from http://www.theinterpretersfriend.com/songs/brng-4th-e-kngdm.html. Since I play the bass in our church band, and because I'm lousy at singing and playing at the same time, I choose to play and worry about the words later, which half the time I'm only barely paying attention to anyway):
You are a light on the hill, O people,
light for the city of God!
Shine so holy and bright, O people:
shine for the kingdom of God!
Refrain:
Bring forth the kingdom of mercy,
bring forth the kingdom of peace.
Bring forth the kingdom of justice,
bring forth the city of God!
To paraphrase a favorite group of mine, "Come on you seekers, you searchers and faithful and SHINE!" (No points for that one)
In Him and around the corner (and all over the map, wishing that I had a coherency-checker in addition to my spell-checker),
Al
My friend Gaylene wrote this on her blog tonight while musing about Matthew 2:10 (check it out: http://greetingsfromaustinstreet.blogspot.com)
"We are the people who walk in darkness and the great light is out there for all of us to see. God offers His light, His son, Jesus, to us so that we never have to walk in darkness. "
At the same time, that Light should be shining through us. I'm not telling you anything you don't already know that the only reason we can see the Moon is because of the sun's light reflecting off its surface. (If you didn't know that, pause here, and do one of the following: call your fourth-grade science teacher, apologize for not paying attention during the whole "moon" discussion, and could she explain that part again? OR, you can Google "How the Moon shines." You should find all kinds of pages explaining how the moon shines. I'll skip the jokes about alcohol recipes. For now!)
ANYway, when you see me, do you see the Light? Now, obviously, I'm not THE Light. (I'm barely a dim bulb!) But when you see people who call themselves Christians (myself included), is the Light reflecting off them/us/me? If you can't see the Light in/through me, then no words I say or type here will convince you that I'm as Christian as I like to think I am. Same goes for anyone who calls themselves a Christian, no matter the denomination.
And it's as simple as literally flicking on a light-switch! Love one another. Help those in need. Speak kindly as often as possible. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you (thanks, Mom!). Why is that so difficult?
In the Lutheran church (or at least among us ELCA types), when someone is baptized, the pastor says to the baptized, "Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good works and bring glory to God in Heaven." If we call ourselves Christians, we have an obligation to others to make sure that the Light is radiating off of us just like sunlight radiates off the moon. We are not THE Light, but we can see The Light, and He can see us. Therefore, we should be radiating that Light to others, to keep them from the darkness and in the Light.* (Do you want to reflect the Light like the moon reflects its light? Then make sure you're revolving around the Son! HA! I kill me! HEY: put down that gun!)
(*Offering another 100 points to whoever guesses the group from which THAT little reference came! See if I can stump that guy THIS time!)
I'll close with a song that's been running thru my head while typing this. (Credit where credit is due: I cut and pasted the following from http://www.theinterpretersfriend.com/songs/brng-4th-e-kngdm.html. Since I play the bass in our church band, and because I'm lousy at singing and playing at the same time, I choose to play and worry about the words later, which half the time I'm only barely paying attention to anyway):
You are a light on the hill, O people,
light for the city of God!
Shine so holy and bright, O people:
shine for the kingdom of God!
Refrain:
Bring forth the kingdom of mercy,
bring forth the kingdom of peace.
Bring forth the kingdom of justice,
bring forth the city of God!
To paraphrase a favorite group of mine, "Come on you seekers, you searchers and faithful and SHINE!" (No points for that one)
In Him and around the corner (and all over the map, wishing that I had a coherency-checker in addition to my spell-checker),
Al
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