No more goodbyes

“He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” Revelation 21:4

When the girl at the airport hears the announcement that her plane is starting to board, she turns to the boy who is seeing her off. “I guess this is goodbye,” she says.

The noise of the traffic almost drowns out the sound of the word, but the shape of it lingers on the old man’s lips. He tries to look vigorous and resourceful as he holds out his hand to the other old man. “Goodbye.” This time they say it so nearly in unison that it makes them both smile.

The poignancy of “Goodbye.” Frederick Buechner captures the tragedy and sadness of it beautifully in today’s reading from “Listening to Your Life.” I remembered this one as soon as I flipped the page, because at some point I had circled the date on it. It always rocks me to the core, because this is the essence of what it means to feel the sorrow of the fall.

We were never meant for death or any kind of goodbyes for that matter. He never desired it or designed us for it. That all came when we presumed to know better and went for that one forbidden thing He knew would separate ourselves from Him forever. And this of course, is the whole reason Jesus came. That we might be able to banish that word from our experience and vocabulary forever. In His great mercy, He has given us a second chance to trust His love.

The swift passage of time startles me into the realization that I don’t have much of it left. I am ready to be done with coming and going. Regularly, I have to board a plane and leave one home for another. I have done it for years now, and it only gets harder. I pray that God will grant me this one wish. Because goodbyes are like a little bit of hell, over and over again. Selfishly, I want everyone in one place. There, I said it.

And yet, it would be wrong to describe the sorrow of goodbye without the Heavenly joy of the greetings I cherish on arrival. If I never have to board a plane again, I will always remember the hopeful joy in their faces, the shriek of delight at seeing me grinning my way down that escalator jostling my luggage. The arms held open……..Yes, that right there is a little bit of the sweetness of Heaven.

And always someone on each end to welcome me home.

The Table

Don’t stop meeting together with other believers, which some people have gotten into the habit of doing. Instead, encourage each other, especially as you see the day drawing near. Hebrews 10:25

There’s a place I know, maybe you’ve been there too. And centered in that place, there’s something we all gather around regularly though not nearly as much as we used to. If I close my eyes I can hear chairs scraping back and the clink of spoons stirring sugar or cream. I can hear dishes rattling and greetings of welcome. Mind you, it’s not the actual table that makes the magic happen, it’s the incredible women around it. Maybe what you have is a rickety old card table with wobbly legs, or one well used with scars from years of dinners served and children’s crayons gone astray. Maybe it’s even one that’s polished and reserved for the best company. It’s not the table that matters anyway.

What sets this table apart from others is that Jesus is always the guest of honor. And at His table there’s always room for one more. At this table love and grace are served up in healthy portions; they flow as freely as the coffee and tea. At this table you never have to worry about saying the wrong thing. This is a table where Jesus is. I know it, because I have seen Him there, reflected in the easy laughter and love on each face.

Another thing about this table is that you never have to worry you’ll be given that “look” you know the one I mean, the one I call the “up and down.” I bet you have been the recipient of this a time or too, and yes, sometimes in church. It’s like they’re trying to decide whether you’re suitable enough to join their congregation. No, at this table there is room for imperfection, in fact it is encouraged. More often than not, conversation will flow around what was done wrong during the past week than what was done right.

Sometimes things stay on track and all the questions in the study are answered, but sometimes people get to talking and laughing about something that happened during the week and they only get to question 3. And then, sometimes a deep need is sensed and someone has an opportunity to unload the burden they walked in with. Here at this table, a hurting soul is never ignored and burdens carried in need never be carried out.

When we hold our heartaches and cares up to the Light in prayer together they become small in the shadow of the Cross.

These women I know, and maybe you know them too, are not just church ladies as they might be described somewhere else. These are warriors, Disciples, followers of the Way. They’ve looked death, destruction, illness, and heartache in the face and haven’t backed down. They take risks and are not afraid to go out into their world to take the love of God to others. They knock on the doors of strangers because that’s what Jesus would have them do.

They are the backbones of their families, often putting themselves last and thinking nothing of it. They are far from perfect and will be the first to tell you that, but they’ll also tell you about their Father who is.

This table is a place where for an hour or so a week, Heaven touches down to earth and no one leaves quite the same as when they came in. And no one ever goes away empty.

This post is dedicated to my Mom’s Bible study, those faithful ladies, all of whom I am honored to call my friends, my sisters. I love you all and I love you Mom for introducing me to women’s Bible studies and the tables past and present. They will remain with me forever. This post is also dedicated to strong women everywhere who carry the love of Christ wherever they go, no matter what the cost. Jesus loves you and is honored by your lives the way He always honored women when He was down here on earth. I don’t think it was an accident that He chose Mary to be the first to see Him after the resurrection. He values you and me!

A very Present help……..

God is our refuge and strength,
A very present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change
And though the mountains slip into the heart of the sea;
Though its waters roar and foam,
Though the mountains quake at its swelling pride. Psalm 46:1-3

The Holy Spirit loves us with a love that is so fierce, so deep we can scarcely imagine it. How else can you explain His willingness to come and take up residence inside us? Voluntarily. It’s beyond humbling.

He lives quietly and sorrowfully day after day as He sees how I fritter away time and opportunity and douse my hours with endless fear and worry. And still, He’s there to celebrate my little joys as well. What a gentleman God is. Big enough to keep the universe in motion with less than a thought, and yet small enough to fill up the hollowed out places inside me.

He watches and waits as I churn myself up inside with everything that doesn’t matter and some things that do but that I can’t fix anyway and then He takes the leftover space in my heart, my mind. It’s this backwards kind of living that gets us every time. Some things have seeped in though.

I know that starting the day seeking Him first always works. And I know that He will never leave me, that’s a promise He will never break. And that’s good to know in the wee hours of the morning when I can’t sleep.

Thank you Lord, for being there as you always are at 2 AM. I am not sure why You selected that time, but I have come to think of it as Ours. All this time I have been blaming the cat and it’s been You. Maybe that’s the only time you can really get my full attention. And thank you for letting me fall back asleep afterwards.

I think maybe you spend our whole lives trying to get us to get just this one lesson:

He says, “Be still, and know that I am God;

Amen. I think it may be starting to sink in………

Eventide

As shadows lengthen and the day stretches behind us, we pause. The last bird calls to the others tree to tree, as if he’s calling them all home. They know it’s time to find a place to huddle together heads under wings, feather to feather in the dark boughs.

All day they have taken flight and we have taken ours. Here and there, crisscrossing roads and skies.

But now the moon and God say: “It’s done.” The stars concur from where they shine high in the sky. Now I wonder as I often do, what’s going on in Heaven where there is no night and not for the first time, it feels just as real as being here down below. For that’s what Sabbath is: Knowing that Jesus is our Sabbath wherever we go. Now and forever more.

“Father, as I reflect on this day, I see the faces of my loved ones near and far. Thank you for keeping us all safe another day. Thank you as we live and breathe to enjoy another evening benediction.”

The breeze has stopped and it feels as if the earth is taking a deep breath. There is not a sound, save motorized vehicles here and there and every so often that one pesky mosquito buzzing my ear out for blood.

Still I persist. I don’t want it to end. Some days are just like that.

One more stinging bite on my ankle and I am gone………….the curse of the Fall nips at my heels even as Heaven fills my heart.

Day is done……..And it was evening, and it was the seventh day……and it was very good.

Sometimes it takes a Turkey

Tom Kettleman started showing up last Spring in my hometown of Lodi, California. No one seemed to know where he came from. People learned to watch out for him because he didn’t always use the cross walk, but sometimes he did. Wherever he was, he created a stir. Sometimes he would chase ambulances and patrol cars. I guess they didn’t know whose turf they were on. More often than not he could be found at one of his resting places, behind the parking lot of Lowe’s or hanging out at Panera’s strutting his stuff. Every now and then you could find him behind Wal-Mart. Kettleman Lane and Lower Sacramento road was where you could usually always see him.

People started looking for him and then posting their pictures of where he was that day. Kids and parents alike fell in love with Tom. He became a very popular guy. He never asked for the notoriety, he was just being himself. But something about Tom seemed to bring people of all different walks of life together. It was a curious phenomenon. People who might never have otherwise met started talking about Tom and where they saw him.

Then came the Facebook fan page which swelled to over 3000 members.

The usual trip to the store was somehow brightened by Tom’s antics, especially when he was show-boating, puffing all his feathers up in grand turkey style, it was really something to see.

People might wonder about how this could happen, but the reason is very simple. Tom gave people something to smile about. He gave me something to smile about all the way in Arizona. He gave a little bit of hope to a weary world. A world worn down by work, stress, horrific events in the news. Tom gave people something of a sense of community that is hard to find these days. I guess you could say that Tom was a little bit of an ambassador in that regard.

Sometimes I find that animals and babies have a way of being much more effective at building bridges between people of all faiths, colors, and economic statures.

Or course, there were the naysayers and the haters of Tom as well. There were cruel comments on Facebook, and those who felt that he was a nuisance, a danger to the community. Wherever good and innocence gather, the minions of negativity always seem to spring up as well. Human nature I suppose.

Now Tom is gone and people are saddened. Others don’t understand the sadness. He was just a turkey after all. But I can say that I will truly miss my brother’s pictures and texts about Tom and where he was that day. I will miss the idea of Tom and how he brought my hometown together. Growing up in Lodi was truly a blessing. We had community, we had closeness. It was a safe place where we could walk the streets at just about any time of day or night without fear.

And yet, this thing with Tom makes me realize that community still exists in Lodi. I can already see the good coming out of it on the Friends of Tom page on Facebook. (which is now open only to invitation from other members.)

You see, sometimes it takes something as silly as a turkey to make people believe in each other and their community again. To see something that was there all along. Sometimes God uses turkeys.

The spirit that brought people together while Tom was here has not left. Let it continue to inspire us all to do something good for each other today and everyday. We love and miss you Tom. Inspire on…….

There remains a Sabbath rest……….

“There remains therefore a Sabbath rest for the people of God. For the One who has entered His rest has Himself also rested from His works, as God did from His.” Hebrews 4:9,10

The chair creaked as I settled into it in the dim light of early morning. The first line of my prayer was a grateful sigh. There are times when sighs can be prayers. The end of the week once more and I wondered again at how I got here so fast. Settling into sabbath…..I gazed down the trail of years, wondered and wandered along the halls of my memories.

As I wandered, images and sounds came softly, floating over and through and then emotions along with them following close behind. “A Mighty Fortress” was the theme song of the little claymation cartoon I used to watch on Sunday mornings before church, Davy and Goliath.

I hear the echo of our voices in the upper room where we had children’s church and then after, Sunday lunch at Helwigs, Chicken on a Bun. And my Grandma sighing out loud and crinkling her Reeds wrappers while the Pastor is speaking, and my Mom being so embarrassed.

I remembered the way the light slanted the shadows as we walked to Sunday evening service on warm summer nights. And there was choir practice and the rustle of robes coming off hangers and the silence right after we all stood as one and waited for those first notes from the piano.

Service upon service……all through the years. All through the denominations, each one I loved in different ways. I hear the rustling of onion-skin pages as we all found our places as one. I find myself sometimes missing those days before iPads and iPhones in church.

As the candle flickers in the corner, these are the Holy gifts I unwrap one by one.

And someday, I will unwrap these days too.

This is Sabbath rest right here and now.

Enter into Sabbath rest

And on the Sabbath day we went outside the gate to the riverside, where we supposed there was a place of prayer, and we sat down and spoke to the women who had come together. A woman named Lydia, from the city of Thyatira, a seller of purple fabrics, a worshiper of God, was listening; and the Lord opened her heart to respond to the things spoken by Paul. And when she and her household had been baptized, she urged us, saying, “If you have judged me to be faithful to the Lord, come into my house and stay.” And she prevailed upon us. Acts 16:13-15

I love the imagery of this verse……I like to think of Paul and Timothy and that group of women praying by the river. And Lydia, a well to do successful business woman, who was receiving those words into her heart. I think of how the Holy Spirit forbade Paul and Timothy to go all those other places but that He sent them there, to Macedonia. And that He chose a woman, Lydia, to be the first convert in Europe.

This morning as my fingers fly over the keyboards…….I pause every now and again to meditate and let my words fall where they may.

Pandora is playing Holy, Holy, Holy by David Nevue in the background. And it is Holy here in this place.

In my quiet place today, I read of where Elijah was taken up to Heaven in the Chariots of Fire, and Elisha, the farmer who took his place performing miracles, healing the Shunammite woman’s son. The son she never thought she would have. She was a wealthy woman too, and offered Elijah food whenever he passed by there. She even went to far as to fix him up a little guest room.

Can you imagine fixing up a guest room for Elijah??

We are rich, my friends. We have all these people, these heroes of the faith. They are all our relatives. These are our heritage, our Heavenly family. And someday in the future, we will all sit by the River of Life basking in the glow of the Lamb, looking forward to a future we could scarcely imagine while here on earth.

I leave you to your own meditation now…………and wherever your feet may take you today, I hope you take your Sabbath rest along with you. Thank God for the week you just passed through, knowing those burdens are behind you. Breathe deep, take in the Peace that passes understanding. We rest in Grace my friends.

I leave you with this little poem by Hafiz, which I just discovered in my travels along the internet.

Once a young woman said to me, “Hafiz, what

is the sign of someone who knows God?”

I became very quiet, and looked deep into her

eyes, then replied

“My dear, they have dropped the knife. Someone

who knows God has dropped the cruel knife

that most so often use upon their tender self

and others.”

Deep calls to deep

Some people think nature calls in a soft voice. I think it shouts quietly. There’s a difference.

What’s it shouting you say?

Things aren’t always what they seem…….like this bloom from a lowly thistle we know as the artichoke plant.

Do you see the bee? I almost missed it, and I took the picture a year ago.

There is a whole universe wrapped up in your back yard.

Just step out the door and open your eyes.

And you will see God.

He is waiting to fill us……so that we may never thirst for anything else. He calls us to the deep end.

It’s easy to tread water when you know you can touch bottom.

He’s calling us to swim further out.

Better yet, just jump.

He has never once failed to catch me.

Tired of treading water in the cesspool of worry?

Stop treading and float, my friends.

I took my troubles to the LORD; I cried out to him, and he answered my prayer. Psalm 120:1

Why it’s good to remember………

As I left this morning in the dark, I straightened my flag out and remembered. That day 13 years ago. Frozen in front of the TV, incredulous; watching the news in disbelief. I remember my Mom calling and weeping on the phone. And now I am in disbelief again that so many years have flown by…..It doesn’t seem possible.

As I walked into work I passed the security guard who was raising the American flag which I thought looked a little dingy. It would have been nice to see a bright splash of red, white and blue against the sky. It felt like such an ordinary day…….too ordinary. I guess that day started out pretty ordinary too. And that’s not a bad thing.

That’s what makes this all so significant. If 9/11 were to teach us anything, it is that each day holds within itself a wonderful capacity for complete normalcy and utter disaster. So we need to embrace the normal for what it is.

Ordinary life tinged with the miraculous.

In and around and through, each little insignificant moment of every day there is a thread of wonder. The thing we usually don’t realize though, is how fast it can all be taken away. I know, I’ve been there. I am one who stood at the edge of the great wide gulf of grief, wondering what I could have done differently, wondering how I would ever make my way to the other side.

We’ve all had loss, we’ve all had our times of wishing we could reel back all those little moments and see them for the small miracles they were. How clear it all seems from a distance.

Now I do my best to live in the moment. I don’t always succeed, but I am better at it than I used to be.

Set aside all the other lessons we could have learned that day 13 years ago. And set aside all the things we could be doing right now to prevent it from happening again.

The thing that matters most is that we live life with our eyes and hearts wide open. Knowing that each and every day we walk on Holy ground, and that person you wake up to? Ride that bus with? Work next to in that cubicle? They all have lives, hopes, dreams that matter to them. They all started out with a spark of Godness.

Tonight when you go home, go and sit beside the one you love, hold their hand and look into their eyes and ask them, really ask them how their day went. And then really listen. Who cares if they ask if you are alright. Thank God you still have them.

And in your reflection today, remember the ordinary heroes who died that day and the ones who tried to save them.

And everyday, remember the One who died to save you, for without Him nothing is possible.

With Him, everything is.

Leaving a legacy………..

This was on our Intel news memorial page today: I didn’t know this gentleman but judging by the many kind comments, he was much-loved. What a wonderful legacy of kindness and character he left. This is what matters after we’re gone…………what kind of a legacy do you want to leave your family? Your friends? Your community?

Jingyoo Choi was a loving and devoted husband and father. He enjoyed playing golf during his free time. He was a fighter when it came to playing golf. He beat one Intel friend seven straight times but always remembered to cheer his friend up after the game was over. Just last Monday he told this same friend that even with his illness and body condition, he would keep fighting. He never complained through all of his treatments and remained ever optimistic for the future.

He loved traveling the world with his family during his vacations. He had a beautiful voice and sang in the church choir. It was in the church choir in Korea that he met his future wife, Kim. On Sundays he could be heard down the church hallways during choir practice. He was a true friend to all who knew him, and he always had a smile.

After we’re gone the only thing we really leave is our legacy. What kind do we want to leave? What kind of living legacy are we sowing seeds for in the future right now? How would your family change if you weren’t there?

I don’t want people to be relieved when I’m gone.

We will all leave many things behind, but the things we try so hard to get like money, fame, beauty, recognition won’t matter. It’s the life and laughter we leave behind that will. It’s the time you spent with those you love, the things you did together; things that might have seemed small and everyday at the time, but added up, the effect on a life is monumental.

And the thing is, you can only borrow on someone else’s legacy so long, ultimately you have to build your own.

So, will you vanish like a vapor, leaving those around you untouched? Will you slip unnoticed through an opening in the hedge, only to have to close right over as if you were never there?

Or will there be a glaring absence……a tear in the universe where you once stood? At least to those who loved you and whom you loved in return.

Will they say things like:

She had the best laugh……..I could always count on her to help…….he was the kindest person I ever knew……she always took time for me…….he didn’t talk at me, he talked to me……she always made me feel important……she opened my eyes to the beauty around me………She took me camping……..he taught me about God.

This is what I think……the most powerful legacies left behind will be those who will inspire you to improve even long after they are gone. And the best thing is, it’s never too late to improve while we are still living and breathing.

Lori's Prayer Closet

"And when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done is secret, will reward you……"Matthew 6:6

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