Through Stained Glass: whoever has an ear (guest post)

Today's midweek reflection is by First Presbyterian Church member, mother, writer, poet, and whimsical warrior, Kelli Owens. She shared this poem last week at our Revelation Bible study. Her words were inspired by the text and the conversations we have had around the table. You can check out more of Kelli's writing at her blog by clicking here. 

whoever has an ear

last night it was the long, lonely howl of a coyote. a sound which ricocheted off the moon then traced edges of corn silk before landing on these ears made of earth.

wind turbines continued on their cyclical path in the growing darkness. i didn’t even need to see it. their perpetual motion thrummed against an indigo backdrop and reflected back the heartbeat within my ribcage.

and i can’t escape it this season, it seems. how we see with more than our eyes, hear with more than our ears. how subtle silence underlies even the noise. isn’t this the revelation of the fleeing prophet at the mouth of the cave? perhaps there is a way of entering life ear-first.

there are seals opened and those still bound fast. prose falls deaf before the latter. mystery embedded inside every hidden wholeness speaks the truest word. it’s subtle like rhythmic windmills and chattering corn stalks. we know in part and we prophesy in part.

yet what shall we do with these words:

there was silence in heaven.

Through Stained Glass: Hospitable Pork

Hospitality is not to change people, but to offer them
space where change can take place. It is not to
bring men and women over to our side,
but to offer freedom not disturbed by dividing lines.
~Henri Nouwen

Why do I love the annual pork bbq?

Simple: hospitality.

We open our doors (literally!) and provide our community with good food, excellent fellowship, and festive musical atmosphere.

Yes, it is significant that 100% of our proceeds go to our local missions.

            Food for Thought.

            Coats for Kids.

What I love more, though, is that we have been doing this (in some way, shape, and form) for over 40 years. That’s longer than the people of God wandering in the wilderness!

I am always impressed with how we come together and make it all happen. Of course, we have Debbie and Charlise (and their committee [Ken & Keith]) to thank! I love driving around town and seeing our signs. And I especially love seeing the photos of the delicious desserts. [It gets even better when all that goodness starts rolling into the church!]

You all—wow. I am grateful for everything ALL of you do.

As we prepare for the big event tomorrow (or today, depending on when you read this post), a story from the Bible that comes to mind is one we will read from this Sunday. We know it well. It is the story of Mary and Martha. Luke tells it this way:

10:38 Now as they went on their way, he entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home.

10:39 She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet and listened to what he was saying.

10:40 But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, "Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me."

10:41 But the Lord answered her, "Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things;

10:42 there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her."

A couple things here.

First—this text is not criticizing the Martha’s of the world. Instead, the opposite, in my opinion. Jesus is inviting Martha to enjoy her work. She has put in the hours and effort, all of which is important. Now, she needs not to worry about all the things: ticket sales, press releases, and dessert organizing. Those have all been completed and what will be, will be.

Next--what Martha needs to do, what Mary was doing, was enjoying the moment. Participating in the now. Jesus invites Martha to be present with the communion taking place. Like Mary. Jesus brings to the forefront of what life together is all about:

                                                            presence.

Which is why I love this event so much. It is our chance as a church to provide a reminder to all the people pigging out (see what I did there?) that they are loved.

But also, and this is important—that the Martha’s are loved too.

Yup, drinks will need to be refilled (especially the water since it will be a chilly 90+ degree night); yes, the coleslaw will need to be stirred; and yes, the garbage will need to go out. But tomorrow is also about being with those we may not always have a chance to break bread with.

I love our annual pork bbq.

I love being with the Martha’s and the Mary’s.

It is a pleasure to be present with everyone and seeing the Gospel embodied in our generous hospitality.

Through Stained Glass: Mercy Notices

A picture & a blog inspired by the blue sky yesterday.

Did you notice the sky this morning? Did you feel the breeze this morning?

I did.

As I swayed in the hammock, I couldn’t help but notice its spring-like color and its fall-like feel.

Blue. So blue.

No humidity.

No haze.

No rain.

Blue, sunny sky with fluffy, slow-moving clouds. White, cotton puffs like snow.

God’s mercy present in the temporary relief from the heat.

Mercy.

God is kind.

God is sympathetic.

God is compassionate.

God is forgiving. God is present.

God is what is happening.

What is happening is a beautiful day full of blue sky, sunshine, and life.

What did you notice today?

            Unbridled joy?

            Unending laughter?

            Unconditional love?

What about now?

What is happening in this moment? In YOUR life?

What do you hear?

            What do you see?

                        What do you taste?

                                    What do you smell?

                                                What do you feel?

Mercy.

Softness. This is how I would describe today. In a rough patch of summer heat, respite.

Presence. Another way I would describe today. Mercy is being known in this moment.

Mercy is listening…

                                    …to your life…

                                                                        …to what is happening…

in

            this

                        moment.

What do you notice?

Your breath?

                           Your life?

                                                Your heartbeat?

Mercy. God has it for us. It is what is happening.

What is happening is this:

·      You are not alone but are being cradled in the arms of a Loving God who is our Mother and our Father.

·      You are not wandering waywardly but are at home in the presence of a God who is as close as our breath.

·      You are not an isolated individual but are seeing with the very eyes of God.

·      You are not a wrecked catastrophe but are plunged deeply into the transformative nature of The Creator.

Mercy.

Today I saw mercy in a blue sky. I felt mercy in the breeze’s embrace.

Through Stained Glass: Dancing, too

The trees are singing.

Dancing, too.

Thunder rolls in the distance, and an indigo sky turns navy. The flowers on my lilies and hibiscus plants are setting in and calling it a night, as they usually do. The candle on my little patio table couldn't withstand the force of the wind, and it too has called it a night. Chloe, the Queen, has as well. On her throne, she sits wanting nothing of this storm or those fireworks. Tecumseh, the General, is making the rounds sniffing everything he sniffed ten minutes ago. He returns to my feet, reporting that everything is decent and in order at the homestead.

Meanwhile, I'm taking a risk and remaining outside to type this post. The signs around me are all indicating that it would be wise to take everything inside, but still, I sit in my short-sleeved shirt just so I can feel the breeze on my skin. I have bemoaned the heat and the humidity—and I often complain about the nosey air conditioning—which is why I remain out here beneath this dark, low hanging sky. No stars. No moon. Nothing really to see, only touch, smell, taste, and hear. Is this what it was like "In the beginning…"?

Breath/e.

The breath of God. I need Her inspiration. Our world needs His breath. I am listening for that still small voice amidst the strong winds and the wailing leaves. I remember the story from two Sunday's ago, though. The one about Elijah hanging out in the cave. 

Wind. 

Fire. 

Water. 

Chaos. 

Nothing.

Until the silence.

However, I want that Word now. I wish Wisdom would whisper to me while the storm is happening at this moment. I want to hear that Sustaining promise promptly.

Ugh. 

Trust the process. Let God do God's thing, right? 

I guess I need to go to the Tree of Life and pick some more 'patient' fruit. While I'm at it, I'll pluck some kindness and goodness, too. Some friends brought me the fruit of Love and Joy this week. First, the love—children at our drama camp talking about EMPATHY! Then the joy—students entering into the chaos of community and trusting the process.

Of course, I didn't really recognize those gifts until, well, I got home and waited in…

silence.

Just before the trees started singing.

Dancing, too…