Most days I go about my business and get caught up in the routine of my schedule. Now don’t get me wrong. My activities throughout the day are anything but routine. Most days I have to roll with the flow. I am talking about routine being how long I am away from home, when things are due for bulletins and newsletters, the time for visitations. These are the things that happen every week.
Then there days like this one, when I am hit over the head with a sudden awareness of how much someone means to me. I am talking about my big stinky boy. The one who will be 19 in June. As a parent, I want nothing more than his happiness. I will move heaven and earth to help him find the thing that brings him joy.
When he came into the world I remember holding him in my arms. He was screaming like crazy. I started singing a song that I sang to Cazandra’s belly just about every day she was pregnant. Immediately, when he heard my voice he stopped crying and started looking around the room. I will never forget that moment. It still takes my breath away. I felt a connection to another person like I had never had before that second. Looking around the room at Cazandra and then Julian I knew that I was blessed beyond all measure. Praise be to God that even someone like me could know absolute joy!
Whatever it was that took me back to that moment in the hospital today, I am grateful to remember my son’s presence in my life. I pray that he becomes the person that he was created to be and live into the passions that were planted deep within his soul. I hope that he will always know that there is a divine presence in his life that will always be his source of strength and hope. I thank him for the many lessons that he taught me about what it truly means to become a man.
Today, I thank God for the ability to stamp a moment in time in my spirit; to remind me of my most incredible moments of awareness when the Holy Spirit speaks brilliantly into my life. I am grateful that I still want to add a little phrase to Psalm 139:14, “I give thanks to you that I was marvelously set apart” (CEB). The phrase I want to add is this, “But look at my boy!”
I ask you, today for whom are you the most grateful? Share with them right now. Let them know how important they are. Let them know that they matter.
I know that my last few posts have been a little darker than normal, but t’is the season. In the Christian tradition we are entering the most sacred time in our faith. Sunday will begin the week known as Holy Week. We will end the week with the time known as the Triduum (Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter Sunday). Our eyes move beyond our own spiritual commitment and on to the sacrifice of God. We remember the suffering, death, and resurrection of Jesus.
I have celebrated many a Holy Week, but I continue to struggle in fully comprehending the nature of love as God shared with humanity. And the answer to the big why question (Why do we remember the suffering, death, and resurrection of Jesus?) is pretty simple: We remember the Triduum out of divine love for the highest order of creation. Holy love came to us to reclaim the core of our identity.
The thought of all of this is overwhelming. I know that my words fail me every time I try to answer the “big why” question. Perhaps it is best by not seeking out a definitive answer. Maybe it is best to simply live every day in gratitude for the One who gave us life. It could be that our words will always fall short in answering such a large question, but maybe our works are our response to the giver of the wonderful gift that was given unselfishly to us.
Today I am grateful for the Passion of Christ. The one who taught me to face the darkness, because on the other side there is light. My journey may take me through the darkest of places, but I know the perpetual light of God will see me through those times until I am on the other side of my struggle; embracing the holy light of the One who leads me. This is the core and basis of my faith. This indeed is my strength. Praise be to God, who gives us the final victory!
There was a phrase that I heard a long time ago. Someone told me, “My mind is in a dangerous neighborhood, so I never go there alone.” I laughed as my friend revealed this information. As I continue through the years I often come back to that phrase. I think I have even used it in a sermon or two.
There is a lot of truth about my friend’s remark. My mind can travel into some seriously strange places. My thoughts can bring tremendous amounts of joy, but they can also lead me into the darkest places imaginable. Sometimes, thought processes can arrest me and hold me hostage. I am often overwhelmed by my own projections or anxieties stimulated by my psyche.
This is where the power of God steps in and sets within me a new place to dwell. It takes me out of the rough neighborhood and into a place that brings healing and wholeness. I am no longer forced to surrender to the negative thoughts and feelings that want to move into my mental space. I am given the power to reclaim my heart and offer it to God. My strength stems not from my own abilities, but the power of the Holy One.
My task is to remember that I have moved out of the neighborhood of despair and regret and into a place that affirms me and guides me. I am no longer in a place of shame and sorrow. I have to stop acting like I live in that negative space. That is a very hard thing to do; shift my paradigm. I am not left to my own defenses, but it is God who secures my heart. I am a new creation.
For today, let us live in the joy and peace that God gives to us. The world will see that we have been changed. They will see the light that shines in our hearts. They will long to move into a neighborhood similar to ours. We will now be able to say, “I live in a new neighborhood, and it is God who dwells with me. It is divine light that shines and lights my path.” Praise be to God.
I asked my son to come and help prepare the church for tonight’s gathering. We will honor and remember the ancient custom known as Stations of the Cross. As our fantastic Youth Director guided us through the preparation, my son mentioned to me that this was a lot of work for one night. I explained to him that our practices and customs are very important to us and that if just one person experienced the resurrected Christ in a new and profound way, then our work was not in vain.
I can take it a step further; even if no one’s heart was changed it was worth every ounce of energy that we all utilized to finish the beautiful reminder of God’s incredible gift of freedom from spiritual bondage given to us. It is overwhelming to think that God offered humanity the most incredible of all presents knowing full well there was a tremendous amount of risk involved in His offering. Jesus’ followers could have run away and left without giving their rabbi another thought. All could have been lost. The light of the world could have been diminished and snuffed out before it ever defeated the darkness.
I am very humbled by the thought that God carried out this incredible sacrifice to ensure my salvation. The Divine poured out amazing love that falls down on us from heaven in the gift of His very own Son. Every once and a while I think of the holy risk given to call my heart and fall down in worship because I am loved in a way that can never be fully put into words. We have been redeemed or called back into right relationship by God. Our souls are restored to a holy and loving heavenly presence. Not because we deserved it, but because God chose it for us. This night I only think, “Praise be to God, who has the victory over sin and death!” I thank God because if just one person experienced the resurrected Christ in a new and profound way, then the work (our gift of salvation) was worth every moment of heavenly labor.