Last week I was in Glorietta, NM attending the New Mexico Annual Conference of the United Methodist Church. I went home on Friday and flew to Austin, Texas to take my third class in my Doctorate of Ministries studies. While I enjoy traveling, I am a home body at heart. There is nothing more enjoyable to me than to be at home working on projects around the house. The last thing I wanted to do this morning was get on a plane.
While it is exhausting, I am reminded that the journey is worth it. Through all of the struggle and stress, the prize is in sight. It is just a matter of continuing forward and not stopping. That is the key to our struggles. We must journey on.
As we continue down the path, we learn to appreciate the marvels of God that surround us. It can come in the form of a friend who sends a text to let you know that he/she is thinking of you, a friend who strikes up a conversation that reminds you how important that you are in their world, or a colleague who hand picks you to be their partner for a class project. In whatever way God chooses to reveal God’s self in your life, you must be present on the journey to notice the still small voice that is holy and divine.
Today, I am thankful for friends who reveal themselves in mysterious ways in my life. I give thanks to a God who reminds me that moments with special people are separate and holy. It all starts as a part of the journey. Let us remember to give thanks to the One, who created us and gave us the heart to be a part of a wonderful family.
There are people that we meet along the path that, if not careful, will attempt to rob us of our joy. We are left with a feeling of discouragement and absolute defeat. We must be careful to keep the light of God vital and alive in spite of what is going on around us. While this is difficult today, it is necessary. The message that we have to share with the world is way too crucial and way too important to let anyone capture our hearts and leave us injured and isolated.
When this happens, and believe me it happens, I first want to leave and simply not engage. I want to escape to a safe place. This is where God picks me up and gives me the strength to overcome the noise of those who try to steal my voice. I am to rise up and proclaim the gospel (good news) of what God has done in my life. I must remember that my life matters. God will speak through me.
Today, I am thankful that I can continue down a path that reminds me that I am loved beyond my wildest imagination. That, even though I experience a setback, I will still be invited to continue on the path. I know that there will be “Joy Killers” along the way. I must not let them take that spark of divine excitement that gives me hope.
May we find safety in the knowledge that no matter what obstacles that we face, our God will give us strength for our journey. We are simply called to move forward. The rest will be taken care of by the one who gives us hope. Let us embrace the lessons that we learn as we travel our path one step at a time.
This weekend I had the opportunity to sing with my big stinky son. I love to make music with him, because I know that he gets me. We sound alike and our phrasing is similar. Several of the members of the congregation told me that they couldn’t hear the difference between our sounds. We blend that well. It is amazing and something that I can’t share with anyone else on the planet.
Okay, now on to what made my day. I got home from church and started to make myself a plate for lunch. My son came out of his room and said, “Dad, I really like singing with you.” At that moment, I was left speechless. I don’t think that he had any idea how much that one little phrase meant to me.
There is something about sharing a part of who you are with someone else. For me, on this day, it was my son and the gift of making music. It is overwhelming and quite inspiring to know that there is a sacred space that he and I share together. I cherish it and call it a holy space, because it is wonderful and set apart.
And after hearing him acknowledge his joy, we immediately set our sights on the next selection that we will sing. It is an honor to share my first love with him. The art of making music. This is the gift that I share with my family. Creating beauty out of nothingness. Breathing melodies and harmonies into existence as souls share in the incredible acclamations of life and love. Praise be to God, who gives us the victory in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
Yesterday Cazandra and I decided to watch one of our favorite movies, the Cider House Rules. Both the movie and the book are amazing and deal with issues of abandonment, family, and true calling. It is storytelling at its finest. I was drawn to something that the character Dr. Larch writes to Wilbur in a letter. He writes, “You are my greatest work of art.”
What an amazing statement to make to and about someone. I sat with that sentence for a while. As I kept answering the question in my head, my camera lens kept shifting wider and wider. I couldn’t quite capture the answer to the question, “Who is my greatest work of art?” in one broad sweeping acclamation.
I could easily say my children. That would be safe and easy, and truthful. What about my wife and the life that we have shared for over 26 years? Surely, she would have to be a part of my answer. Then, what about the many students I taught, or the many people that I directed as a minister of music? What about family and friends? What about performing? What about being in the role of pastor?
My greatest work of art had to include all of my experiences. Perhaps the paintbrush included the times that divine love and purpose transcended the craziness of everyday life and revealed itself in profound ways. I am talking about the special moments that redefined the course of my life. Moments like kissing my wife for the very first time, finding out that my sons were coming into the world, secrets shared in confidence, making music that left me breathless, discovering that it was okay to be me and to live in this world as my complete self.
I think our lives are the true masterpieces; our creations, that give thanks and ultimately point to the Creator. Thank God that we are given these gifts. The incredible awareness that love itself seeks to make the world better through our acts. This is breathtaking. It is indeed miraculous. It is a masterpiece.
I hope that you move forward in your journey with the hope and knowledge that God is creating something that is rich and profound in your spirit. It is perfect. It is complete. It is life changing in its scope and design. Today, I say thank God for the incredible masterpieces that are being revealed in all of us!
As Holy Saturday draws to a close I feel as if I am walking through a door to begin another adventure. My Lenten obligation is fulfilled with the writing of this blog entry. Forty days of writing have been lessons in commitment and overcoming fear. While sometimes I felt overwhelmed by continuing to put my thoughts into written words each day, I leave the season of Lent with a sense of purpose and gratitude.
Before the season started it would take me literally hours to post a blog. I would check my writing over and over again for errors, expressions, or anything else that caught my eye. It got to the point that it became too exhausting to write an entry. I didn’t have enough hours in my day to proof my work and get other tasks accomplished. Writing each day gave me the freedom to express myself without having to be so incredibly critical of what I put on paper.
I am not saying that my work was not well thought out. I made sure that I had a purpose for creating an entry each day. Through this journey I was open to where the Spirit led me. There was a surrender to the presence of the Holy Mystery, as it revealed something within my spirit each and every day. There were only a couple of times that I struggled to put something down. Most days were filled with a divine guidance and a joy for living.
Now this daily journey is coming to a close, but the lessons that I learned throughout the season enhance my walk and my faith. I know that I will not be able to continue writing every day, but I will be sitting down to put pen to paper much more often than I had before Ash Wednesday. Praise be to God, who still guides us and teaches us throughout our lives. We grow by moving forward and not remaining idle.
So, I leave this space by walking through a new door. I do not know what opportunities are ahead of me, but I do know who guides me. I look forward to seeing what my new space will feel like. What will the new part of this road look like? There is only one way to find out the answer to the question. That is by moving forward.
Today, I am grateful for the journey through Lent to get to Easter. I travel embracing the life lessons that will be revealed as I continue down my path. This is my hope. This is my joy. This is my strength.
Today is a day that our church traditionally focuses on the death of Jesus. Our church service is usually called the Service of Darkness. There is typically little, if any, light in the sanctuary. I am drawn to it because it is one of the very few services where we worship in a more contemplative style. The quiet is very loud as we observe the darkest part of our tradition. We remember the times that we have failed to be a people of faith. Remembering these bleak times, we ask forgiveness.
It is with my thoughts looking toward the darkness that I was asked to preside at a memorial service this morning. We celebrated the life of an amazing man. It was a beautiful day here in Rio Rancho and the sun seemed to glow especially bright. As I began the memorial service this morning I thought of the paradox between the mood of the day as it gave way to the observance of death in the evening.
In the morning, I quoted scripture reminding the mourners of the hope of resurrection and the life to come. I spoke of the same death that I would observe in the evening. This one that is God’s gift to the world. With 21st century eyes, I know what happens after the death. There is life and a divine renewal of hope and spirit. We didn’t have to act like it hadn’t happened. Like Paul Harvey, we know the rest of the story.
Those that attended the memorial service needed to hear the rest of the story. They needed the words of hope in that moment. It couldn’t wait until Easter. Unlike our ancient predecessors, we are able to offer the words of the Gospel when everything around us is dark and uninviting. Praise be to God for the gift!
My hope for today is that we not wait to share the good news of God for a particular moment, but we are actively sharing now. I hope that we take the message of love to a world that is starving to hear something that brings strength in times of weakness. Let us remember to continue to live as Christ’s disciples. We can change the world by bringing the light of joy and peace into the darkest of places.
I just returned home from our Maundy Thursday service. We presented the Living Last Supper as we did on Palm Sunday. I heard a line that really touched me this evening. One of the disciples said the phrase, “We will defeat Rome by out-living and out-loving her.”
I was reminded that divine love can overcome anything. I am not talking about the kind of love reserved for emotions or desperate signs of affection (though God can use these things to make His presence known). I am talking about the kind of love that radically forms and transforms the deepest parts of the human spirit. The type of love that realizes itself by actions. When a person loves as Christ loves there is a resolve to be present and to express kindness.
I believe that the heavenly notion of love is most often watered down and resigned to just a “word” that sounds pretty. The reality is that sometimes love is not very pretty. It weathers the storm and survives the rough seas that we experience in our lives. Christ’s love is powerful and is the strongest expression of divine hope that is humanly possible.
Tonight I was reminded of the might and goodness of a holy commitment to the Creator. It goes the distance and radically moves us into faithfulness. Love will move the mountains of regret and anxiety that can sometimes cloud our vision. It is sturdy and confident. Love will overcome the struggles that we face.
Praise be to God for the gift of love. Be transformed by its strength. Be led by its kindness. Be made whole.
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 looked back over a few of the posts that I have recently written and laugh when I realized that I have fallen into the trap. It is a necessary trap, but still a trap. As a church leader, I must plan ahead when preparing for each of the seasons observed by the church. Actually, we are usually talking about this Easter immediately after last year’s Easter celebration. We must stay well ahead of the game to prepare the best celebrations and observances possible. Sometimes, the excitement of the current season is usurped by focusing on events that are way ahead of us.
I hope to remember the excitement and joy of this season and not simply be caught up in projecting into the future. While it is crucial to plan what will happen, I must remember to not forget the present. It is here, right now. My task is to celebrate the joys that each season brings. The only way to experience it, is to be aware of the moment.
Today I hope to not let the plans for the future rob me of the present. May the journey through this last week of Lent be special and not something that was simply planned months ago. I want to be connected to the journey to the cross and finally to the joy of the Easter season. This can only be achieved be remaining focused on the now.
This Holy Monday, we make our way through the week by remembering the love of God and the road that Jesus took for us all. May this time be a season of renewal in our souls as we move through the week. I hope that each day will bring us closer to the amazing one that we call the Messiah. Praise be to God who gives us the victory.
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!