....think on these things...

8.17.11 Hebrews 4:12

“Indeed, the word of god is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing until it divides soul from spirit, joints from marrow; it is able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart.”

The footnote on this verse of scripture from the Renovare` Spiritual Formation Bible reads: The “word of God” is the living voice of God in the gospel of Jesus Christ.  It is like a sharp sword, discerning the intentions of the heart, which though hidden from human sight are naked and exposed before God.  The decisive criterion for the spiritual life is thus not impulsive activism or emotional comfort, but the living word of God that clarifies our minds, incites our hearts, and quickens our wills.

The challenge of the spiritual life these days is to walk a path that feels very much like the edge of a sword.  All the while listening for the voice of God through whatever and whomever God chooses to speak, not ignoring all that we hear and see that is antithetical to the gospel of Christ, but responding swiftly and faithfully to it. AND, to do it with love.  Lord Jesus, please keep an eye on my heart.    

The gift of voice 8.7.11

I remember hearing someone who was a guest speaker in a spiritual direction class I was taking say she once had a thought that so enveloped her and filled her with light it was as if the thought had her rather than her having the thought.  I was intrigued at the time and her words stayed with me, but I didn’t understand what she meant until a few days ago when it happened to me. 

I spend a fair amount of time each day in my own version of prayerful meditative reflection and when I prepare the weekly sermons I sometimes drift away from the scriptures into a reflection that is sometimes useful and sometimes just a distraction to keep me from the task at hand. This time it was very useful.  When the surgeon told me the biopsy of the tumors on my thyroid indicated I needed surgery, he went through all the things that could possibly go wrong. (They all do that and it’s a wonder anyone ever goes through with it) He said the thyroid sits on top of your voicebox and there’s a chance that your voicebox could be nicked or damaged in surgery and that would effect your voice…….permanently. I responded so quickly it surprises me now as I reflect on it, I said, “Then my life is over.  If I can’t speak, my ministry is over.  My voice is what God has given me to do this ministry.”  He nodded as though he understood and it looked like the tables suddenly turned.  He had scared me by what he said and I scared him by what I said.   

My first memory in the recovery room was the nurse asking me questions.  Every time I answered her, she asked me to repeat what I said.  I didn’t have the energy for that so I said, “Would you ask me later, it’s too hard for me to speak right now?”  She said, “No. I know it’s hard for you but I want to hear you talk.”  Then she called the surgeon who was in another surgery and said, “She’s whispering, but I think she’ll be able to talk.”  Later I found out that he was so concerned about my not being able to speak and my life in ministry being over that he’d asked to be called as soon as anyone heard me speak.

The thought that “had” me the other day was that I have a voice, and not just a voice, as a preacher I have a public voice, and I suddenly became aware that there are people who can speak but they do not have a voice in the sense that others will listen to them.  Not a voice like I have. 

The ones Jesus called, “the least”, have the ability to speak, but they have no one to listen to what they have to say.  From now on, I’ll use the gift that is my voice, twice given to me, to speak for them, to be their voice.

Gray days

Some days are supposed to be gray. 

There was a storm last night.  A bad storm.  With tornados.  We’re okay and our loved ones are okay, but others aren’t.  Five people died in Arkansas including a 6 year-old-boy.  For the families who lost loved ones in the storm last night, it is good and right that today is gray.  Eyes weak from crying need the mercy of a gray day.   

Yesterday afternoon our neighbor’s house caught fire.  The family survived, but for them, a gray day makes the black hole in the roof and the charred walls less shocking to look at. It makes their eyes burn less at the sight of the loss of their home.

Less than a mile away from our house a car flipped upside down on the side of a steep hill yesterday between the time school let out and rush hour.  Don’t know the details, but even if the driver and passengers escaped unharmed, the day after an accident like that ought to be gray.  Gray days are good for reflecting when reflection is needed.

I’ve never liked gray days.  It seems like I can’t see as well.  Truth is, there is more than one type of seeing.  Actually there are times when we can see better on days without the light of the sun.  We may not like what we see — we may see suffering and death and loss.  But seeing those things makes us more compassionate towards others and when we are more compassionate we are more human. 

“From noon on, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon.  And about three o’clock Jesus cried with a loud voice, ‘Eli, Eli, lema sabachtani?’ that is, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’” (Matthew 27:45-46)

Some days are supposed to be gray.