Journey

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I’ve been thinking today on why people travel.

And I don’t just mean on vacation or some place particularly far; why do people move from place to place? Why do they leave their home at all?

I guess the most obvious answer in our society would be to get the things necessary to meet the needs of a household. Most of us wouldn’t have the resources in our home to feed, clothe, and clean ourselves without leaving the house at some point or another.

And of course it isn’t always an errand. We leave the house to go to school, to spend time with our friends, to visit family, or to go to church.

And yes, we travel on vacations. We go to college and we study abroad; we move for a new job or a new opportunity.

And while all of those journeys are very different, I think the main thing that all of those ventures have in common is that you are motivated to take them for something you want or need. Even if you aren’t particularly looking forward to a trip, you probably are anticipating that you will be better off for having taken it.

After all, no one sets out on a journey expecting to stay in the same place.

I think that spiritual and emotional journeys follow the same logic; they aren’t always fun for the traveler. They can be painful, vulnerable; maybe they challenge the way you see the world, maybe they challenge the way you see yourself. And if they don’t, maybe they should.

Because the wild and beautiful world that we live in does not expect us to stand still. We are created to move; to learn and grow. We are called to embark on a lifetime journey to better understand, better respect, and better care for all of creation. If we aren’t doing that, we are living against the grain of our most holy calling: to love one another as Jesus has loved us.

This has been a crazy time of relative isolation; of living in a small glass houses with an internet front porch. If it has left you with hate and bitterness in your soul, don’t lose hope. Perhaps you’re heart has just been still too long and its time to move. Unclench your fists, open your mind and be ready for the journey.

Gift

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One of my favorite pieces in the library at SUMC is An Offering, by Dan Forrest. The choir has presented it as an anthem in our traditional service a couple times in the last 5 years or so. It is worth listening to if you don’t know it; in fact go do that if you are so inclined.

O Christ, Who spared not any cost, nor any grace withheld, but poured forth Your redeeming blood in love unparalleled. What would you have me offer, Lord? What must I count as loss that I may taste the fellowship that brings me near Your cross? Why should I cling to gifts You give? Why grasp in foolish pride? What You who gave Yourself for me now bid me lay aside? To know You is my highest gain worth any sacrifice. A treasure worthy to possess at any earthly price. Yet if behind my open hands, my heart shrinks from the cost, teach me that nothing offered You is ever truly lost. A hundredfold reward awaits in one glimpse of Your face. My sacrifice forgotten in the riches of Your grace.

Dan Forrest

The first time I heard this song I was struggling hard with the things that I was setting aside to better support Danny; we had hit a wall with him and the only options we could come up with involved doing more at home and less everywhere else. This song spoke directly to my heart at a time when I absolutely needed to hear it. It was painful to walk away from the things I had built and poured myself into but in the end I had no regrets; there really isn’t anything more important than what your child needs.

Nothing more crucial than what keeps your family safe and healthy and whole.

In the last year, what it takes to do those things has been costly in ways we could never have imagined. But it is a holy thing to make sacrifices for those you love.

So if March finds you looking over the sacrifices of the last year with deep pain and sadness, you are not alone. And when your thoughts turn to the celebrations that should have happened, opportunities that couldn’t materialize, or resources you no longer have; consider maybe that you haven’t lost these things, but given them.

“Yet if behind my open hands, my heart shrinks from the cost, teach me that nothing offered You is every truly lost.”

Bless

On By skrosenfeldLeave a comment

Danny has always been a picky eater.

Actually, lets say that Danny has always been a very “specific” eater. He eats a decent variety of foods, but when it comes to what he prefers to eat, he is very particular about the make and model. He really thrives on the consistency of mass produced food items that generally end up looking/feeling/tasting/smelling exactly the same way regardless of where or when they are prepared.

We have been known to refer to the items on Danny’s list of preferred foods as things that have been “blessed” by Danny.

Which is why, I imagine, when I asked him today what it meant to bless something, he told me it meant to “choose” it.

I didn’t correct him. Because isn’t that a beautiful thought?

To bless and be blessed.

To choose and be chosen.

Disciple

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“A Christian is not a man who never goes wrong, but a man who is enabled to repent and pick himself up and begin over again after each stumble–because the Christ-life is inside him, repairing him all the time, enabling him to repeat (in some degree) the kind of voluntary death which Christ Himself carried out.”

C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

As a teenager I often had trouble falling asleep and it just so happened that one of the channels the TV in my room could receive very clearly was EWTN – the Eternal Word Television Network. There was a Nun – Mother Angelica – who had a Tuesday night talk show (that they would often show again late at night, when I would catch it) where she would choose a topic of faith to reflect on. Sometimes she would just flip open her trusty 1996 edition Jerusalem Bible and talk about whatever scripture she landed on.

I loved to listen to her messages. The soothing cadence of her speech reminded me a lot of my Grandmom, which I am sure had a lot to do with it. But I also loved the way she would teach about the Gospel. To hear her tell the stories of Jesus’s life you would think she was right there with them; when she spoke of the disciples they sounded real; like well meaning but deeply flawed humans who tried and failed – in the very presence of Christ – over and over.

And yet, they go on to build the church. To tell the stories. To be living witnesses to His miracles and His love. To die even for what it meant to be and do those things.

I think these days we do a pretty decent job of at least talking the talk that “perfection” isn’t possible. We say that we are giving ourselves grace, or being gentle with ourselves. We take stock of our lives and do everything we can to sort out what is good for us and what is harmful, hopefully giving our best selves their best shot.

But what if, after all of that, the behavior that we brought to a relationship or a circumstance, is far less than “perfect”?

What if it isn’t even acceptable?

The picture that I chose today was actually the 3rd in a series that I took back in October to send to Willis; we were still very much building our routines for distance learning in those weeks. Danny was having a difficult day (understatement) and we were struggling to get through a single class without something catastrophic happening, requiring us to log off.

The post-its came at different times in the day, gently placed on his book shelf next to where I sit to support him. It isn’t that unusual for Danny to write us notes instead of verbalizing when he is coming down from a crisis, so when the first note appeared I took it as a sign that his clouds were parting and that we were going to start having a productive day.

After the second melt down, I came back to the room to find another note: “I’m sorry, again.”

And the third: “and also please forgive me.”

And while I absolutely cherished his apologies, and while I absolutely followed through on the consequences for the destructive behaviors that he was exhibiting, there was not a single moment in any part of that day that I didn’t love that child with every fiber in my being. There was no shame in asking for forgiveness again; he was sorry again. It isn’t a well that can run dry.

There is Grace available for him and there is Grace available for you. And while asking for forgiveness does not always immediately wipe the slate clean in your life or free you from the consequences of your actions, it is the only first step to true healing.

We are real, well meaning but deeply flawed humans. There is a lot that can and will go wrong.

Try again.