Adventures in Thanks-Living

Living the gift of life one breath at a time

Big Praise for Small and Simple

Any fool can make things bigger, more complex, and more violent. It takes a touch of genius-and a lot of courage-to move in the opposite direction. – Albert Einstein

Why are we encouraged to assume that bigger is always better? That complexity is more advanced than simplicity? We choose the larger grocery store because we are conditioned to believe that there will be more choice and lower prices. The big box store is appealing because we can make one stop to purchase many different items at a reasonable price–thus theoretically saving time and money.

But is this really the case? Our locally owned grocery store has more variety per square foot than the grandiose foreign-owned competitor. One can purchase perfectly fine gardening tools at a local hardware store and plants from a community farm stand rather than driving several extra miles to save a dollar or two.

I am thankful for any chance to enjoy a smaller, simpler daily existence. I am much happier supporting a local farmer or sharing plants, tools, and time with a neighbor. Life on a smaller scale means I am able to really see the ground on which I stand rather than always whizzing by it at 65 miles per hour. I can walk to the post office and say hello to folks on the way, meet new people or greet old friends while walking the dogs, and enjoy the view of the rolling hills and orchards from the top of the hill near our house.

My husband and I can spend time together doing the dishes after supper rather than sticking them in the dishwasher and plopping down on the sofa to watch TV. It is a small and simple thing–dishes, water, and the company of the one I love–but it is worth far more than any sitcom. It’s a prime example of companionship trumping convenience.

Think about it. What do we give up when we add needless layers of complexity to our lives? More stuff requires more money to acquire it, bigger space to store it, and more time to manage it. Even modern kitchen conveniences that were supposed to save us time have only freed our time so that we can clutter it with other things.

How can you make your life a bit simpler today? What one small thing can you celebrate right now? Can you spare a few minutes to connect with those you love? Small and simple. Try it. You just might like it.

Photo by Nanagyei used under Creative Commons License. Thanks!

Experiencing God in Creation

“I love to think of nature as an unlimited broadcasting station through which God speaks to us every hour, if we will only tune in.”   – George Washington Carver

Do you experience God’s presence and handiwork in the natural world? I know I do. Like Carver, I believe that God does communicate with us in many ways–some subtle and some more direct. We hear God speak through scripture. We come into the Divine presence in worship. We converse with the Triune God in prayer. We encounter Christ in Holy Communion, and we sense the nudging of the Holy Spirit in our daily  lives. Whether or not we are aware of and in tune with these holy encounters is another story.

Try this: next time you are outside try being open to the presence of the Divine. Listen for the still, small voice of God in the wind. Smell the freshness of newly turned soil. Hear the trill of a bird song. God is present. The Creator is active in the Creation. You are a blessed part of the creation and as such you are dearly loved.

Pay attention to the divine “broadcast station” of creation. Listen. Hear. Understand. Live. Give thanks. Oh, and be a good steward of this marvelous gift. God’s hand, God’s voice, and God’s presence are everywhere in it.

Photo by Per Ola Wiberg used under Creative Commons License. Thanks!

Now

 

“Now is the accepted time, not tomorrow, not some more convenient season. It is today that our best work can be done and not some future day or future year. It is today that we fit ourselves for the greater usefulness of tomorrow. Today is the seed time, now are the hours of work, and tomorrow comes the harvest and the playtime.”   – W.E.B. Du Bois, from Three African-American Classics

Hi, friends! I’m back. Sorry for the unexplained absence. Life took a turn for the crazy–and busy. Good intentions had to take a back seat to multiple and immediate priorities with family and vocation. Thankfully, my world has stopped spinning at such a dizzying pace.

The hectic pace at which I’ve been moving lately got me thinking about the value of the moment. Too often we live in the past, filling our heads with the mantras “I could have. . . ” or “I wish I had . . . ” While there may be truth to our thoughts, the past cannot be reclaimed. Better to glean what you can from those past places and experiences, acknowledge the feelings that are stirring in you, let them go, and move on.

Just don’t fast forward into the future too far. You can plan, you can hope, and you can dream, but the future is not yet yours to have. How many times have you made plans only to have them blow up in your face or fritter away as the future becomes present and past? How often have you said, “I’ll do this tomorrow” or “I’ll think about this when (fill in the blank) happens,” or “I want to do (fill in the blank), but I can’t because . . .”?

The great American novel won’t get written if you don’t begin. Your debts will not disappear if you don’t begin today to put a plan in action. Your children won’t be with you forever. Your relationships need tending now. The only moment you really have control over is the present one.

Take this present moment, this one hour, this precious day and spend it wisely. Banish regrets, work toward the future, but live in the now. Only by doing this will you be a wise steward of your time, talent, and treasure.

Oh, and don’t forget to give thanks for each precious moment. All we have is a gift of the gracious Creator. What a blessing!

(Photo by return the sun used under Creative Commons License. Thank you!)

 

Thankful for Chaos

Chaos in the world breeds uneasiness, but it also allows the opportunity for creativity and growth. — Tom Barrett

I am thankful for chaos. Yes, that’s right, I really am. My life is in a sort of chaos right now, not bad or traumatic in any way, just busy and full and disorganized, and well, chaotic. So I’m trying to embrace this chaos in which I find myself swimming rather than fight it and risk drowning in my own disorganization and discombobulation. I am working at being thankful for this present state of being; it’s where I am so I might as well find the good in it and be thankful for it. At least I’m alive and kicking and drawing breath.

We humans much prefer order. We like to know what’s coming at us, where we’re going, and how we’re going to get there. We like plots and plans and protocol. Chaos makes us a little crazy and stirs up that fight or flight mechanism. Unfortunately, that adrenaline-filled response is not what’s needed to take advantage of chaos and it’s power to produce amazing results and unforeseen gifts in our lives.

Our real discoveries come from chaos, from going to the place that looks wrong and stupid and foolish. — Chuck Pahlahniuk

Sometimes you just have to let go and ride the chaos wave, at least that’s what I’m telling myself as I strap on my rose-colored goggles and dive into the waters of daily life. I have no clue how the chaos will play out, but I can truthfully report from past experience that the periods of greatest chaos have usually preceded good things and bursts of creativity. The path is not clear; what seems logical and sensible may not be the right fork in the road to take. Who knows? Only the Creator who holds all this universe and its seeming chaos in creative tension. I figure those are pretty good hands in which to be held. So yes, I am thankful for chaos and the gifts of discovery, creativity, and renewal it may bring.

What about you? Do you embrace your chaos and trust the process or fight it for all you’re worth? Or do you find yourself somewhere in between, sight reading life’s notes or doing your own improvisation?

Chaos is the score upon which reality is written. — Henry Miller

Photos by Kate Ter Haar, Stefan Andrej Shambora, and Horia Varlan used under Creative Commons License. Thanks!

Thankful for . . . Everything!

Courtesy wikimedia commons

Some days you just need a little inspiration. If this is one of those days for you, then click here to watch one of the most touching and inspiring stories I have ever heard.

She lives alone at age 108 without assistance in a small flat in London. She still practices the piano three hours a day. She lost her mother and husband in the concentration camp, and she survived cancer at age 83. At 104, she wrote the best-selling book A Garden of Eden in Hell.

It is particularly appropriate for today as we observe Yom HaShoah (Holocaust Remembrance Day) and with our Jewish sisters and brothers recall the some six million lives cut short in acts of incomparable human cruelty. Alice Sommer Herz, the oldest living Holocaust survivor, reminds us to “Be thankful for everything–everything is a present.”

Thank you, Alice.

Thankful this Day is Done!

It’s probably my least favorite day of the year–Tax Day. Well, maybe Spring Forward into Daylight Savings Day has a bit of an edge, but it’s a mighty close race for first place YUCK.

That said, I am so thankful this day is done for another year. It’s always an adventure trying to figure out taxes when you are clergy and have additional income streams and deductions. Plus, Pennsylvania has more taxes than Hogwarts has wizards. I’ve never lived anywhere else that taxes you for the privilege of working. Oh well, go figure! I’m sure it could always be worse.

This year, Mr. Husband and I decided to be “do-it-yourselfers” and use software to file. Of course we waited until the last few days to do it–surprise, surprise, surprise. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mind paying taxes. It’s an investment in a civilized society. Without taxes our schools, roads, military, and police forces would suffer. In fact, we have a friend who whenever someone carps about high taxes to him, replies “Don’t like taxes? Move to Uganda. You won’t have taxes or roads there.”

Both Mr. Husband and I are exhausted, more than a little stressed, and considerably leaner in the wallet, but the taxes are in the mail. Night, ya’ll!

Photo by moneyblognewz used under Creative Commons License. Thanks!

Lessons Learned in Lent

The 40/40/40 Lent Challenge is history. I spent the week following Easter recovering from Holy Week, enjoying my family, and reflecting on the Lenten challenge to honor relationships, pare down possessions, and live more thankfully. It has been a busy time but a good one.

So what did I learn from my Lenten discipline this year?

1) I discovered that so many people have had an impact on my life and have shaped who I am today. I could spend a year writing notes and e-mails and still not exhaust the list! This tells me that virtually everyone with whom we come into contact has the potential to shape us for good (or ill). The key is to look for the best in others, to always be open to learning, and to accept the gifts others bring to your life. We do not live in isolation, and part of the joy of living is making and strengthening our web of connection and relationship.

2) I have too much stuff. It must replicate like guinea pigs in the night because there always seems to be more of it whenever I think I have cleaned out and cleared out my life and home.  Either that or I’m learning to live and be content with a whole lot less! Likely it is a combination of both! I’ll continue to dis-attach myself to as much stuff as possible and instead place value in people and experiences.

3) We all have so much for which to be thankful. Naming just one thing a day is like eating only one Lay’s potato chip or a single M & M. Splurge on gratitude; there’s no calories or fat, and the more you give thanks the fuller and richer your life will be.

Thank you for following along with me. I hope you’ll continue to stop in for more adventures in thanks-living. There’s always something for which to be grateful.

Peace and blessing!

Photos by Ben Gray, bradipo, and Nick Saltmarsh used under Creative Commons License. Thanks!

Unflinching Love & Dirty Floors

One of my friends and colleagues, David Hansen, wrote a fine blog entry reminding us all that today is not pre-Easter Saturday and that we shouldn’t fast forward to resurrection glee (even as we prepare the lamb and arrange the flowers). Click here to read his thoughts. David is right; today we are still in the midst of the passion; at least until that beautiful moment in this night’s Easter Vigil when the first joyous notes of Easter will sound. But that’s tonight, not right now.

For now we still wallow in the dark; after last night’s Good Friday worship, we are painfully aware of the brokenness that binds and blinds us to the face of Christ in our neighbors and in the strangers we encounter. We seek peace, yet reap discord. We crave love, but sow seeds of indifference and disdain. We desire to do good, and still our selfishness curves us inward and away from those who need us most. Yes, even though the sun is shining brightly outside my window, the very heart of darkness is present.

A young boy asked our Children’s Church leader last Sunday why Jesus had to die. Talk about a loaded question! Knowing her, I suspect she gave a good answer wrapped in love, yet his question has haunted me all week as I contemplate my Easter sermon.

Why? Why indeed did Jesus have to die? Oh, sure I can spout all the correct theological arguments and explanations, but at the heart level the question still cries out . . . why, why, why? The words sin, atonement, forgiveness, murder, evil, hatred, brokenness, and love are all engaging in a fierce round of cranial bumper-cars right now.

Another wise and wonderful pastor, Nadia Bolz Weber, offers a concise explanation of sin and forgiveness:

Because sin is just the state of human brokenness in which what we say and do causes these sometimes tiny and sometimes monstrous fractures in our relationships and in our earth and in our selves and in strangers and in those we love and sometimes even in our own bodies. Sin is the self curved in on the self. And it’s not something we can avoid entirely. Which is devastating.

And forgiveness of sins was just too close to the heart of Jesus for me to think it’s about some divine eraser in the sky letting me off the hook for being bad. I think forgiveness of sins is more about how Jesus saw the ugly truth of those around him and loved them in a way they could never love themselves.

That last sentence really hit the mark for me. Jesus, God Incarnate, sees the ugliness and darkness that I can’t erase from the deep recesses of my soul, and loves me anyway.Wow! This is truly wondrous love.

When I think of sin, I think about the kitchen floor I hate to mop. The linoleum has all these little grooves and depressions that catch the dirt and grime of daily living. No matter how diligently I swiffer and no matter how hard I scrub with a toothbrush on my hands and knees (and let me assure you that does NOT happen often), it is virtually impossible to remove all the dark trackings and leavings of the world. Yuck. I hate for people to see my dirty, dingy kitchen floor, yet it’s the room I love most in the house.

Jesus can look at the kitchen floor of my heart, and love me without flinching. That, my friends, is real love. This weekend, whether you celebrate the Creator’s love and continued redemption through the Passover or through the resurrection of the Christ, remember that you are loved–unflinchingly–by the One who created all things and called creation good. Now that’s worth some serious thanksgiving AND thanks-living!

Photo by quinnanya used under Creative Commons License. Thanks!

 

The Dark Places

When I was a little girl, I was terribly afraid of the dark. I used to beg my parents to leave the hall light on outside my bedroom so that a shaft of light would fall across my bed from the partially open door. With the door ajar, I could also hear the reassuring sounds of their voices in conversation with each other along with the muffled prattle of the television. The light, the voices, and the mounds of stuffed animals arranged about me like some furry moat kept the darkness at bay until light from the window would signal a new day. All was well.

Tonight was the darkest night of the liturgical church calendar. We gathered for a community Good Friday service just as many other believers did in congregations around the world. The passion story was read in its entirety from John’s gospel. We sang the 22nd psalm. We journeyed through the Stations of the Cross as imaged by Food for the Poor, an ecumenical non-profit serving the marginalized in Latin America and the Caribbean. And we left our sorrows, hurts, sins, and pain at the foot of the cross. With strains of “Ah, Holy Jesus” echoing in our ears, we went silently into the night.

Yet amidst this dark night and the reality that our human brokenness would be party to the suffering and death of an innocent man, indeed of countless precious lives, the light of love is not extinguished. For even in the darkest recesses of our hearts, the love of God finds a way to shine, to seek, and to illumine us in mercy and grace.

Yes, we still have to walk into the dark places. We must open our eyes and look unflinchingly at the stench of sin and death. We must be willing to be changed by what we see. But we are not alone. The one who conquered death and darkness for all eternity journeys with us. The dark cannot quench His light.

Thanks be to God.

Photo by Glasgowamateur used under Creative Commons License. Thanks!

Give Thanks for Hands

Tonight we celebrated Maundy Thursday with a reminder to give thanks for hands that serve and hands that love. Jesus’ act of washing his disciples feet prior to their final Passover meal together was a focal point of the gospel reading (John 13:1-17, 31b-35). Modeling servant leadership for those who would carry on, Jesus also issued a command that they love one another. In effect, God made flesh illustrated what it means to serve and love, and he did this by using his hands in service to others.

Before coming to the table for Eucharist, those present had the opportunity to stop and dip their hands in the waters of the baptismal font and dry them on a towel held by a servant leader. (You have to understand that most Lutherans are rather reticent about exposing their feet for a ritual washing, but since “cleanliness is next to Godliness” we have no problem washing our hands!)

Not only did this simple act serve as a reminder that we were washed clean in baptism, it also illustrated the value of hands that serve others. So we washed, we ate and were strengthened, and we were sent to serve in the world. We are to love one another actively, using our hands for the good of our community and world.

Whose hands do you need to give thanks for? Perhaps your mother’s or father’s hands or maybe those of a grandparent. What makes their hands so remarkable? How do (or did) they use them in service to others? Close your eyes and see their hands before you.

Remember the words of Isaiah 52:7: How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of the messenger who brings good news, the good news of peace and salvation, the news that the God of Israel reigns! (NLT) How beautiful, too, are the hands that serve others in love!

Whether it is preparing food for a family gathering, holding a hurting child, mending clothes, tending a garden, preparing the altar for worship, or repairing a window in the church building, the hands that serve are beautiful indeed. Don’t forget to give thanks for hands!

Lent 40/40/40 Challenge

Honoring Relationships

I was saving him for last, but thinking about hands that serve reminds me to honor my spouse. He has amazing hands! They knead bread to keep our family fed, they are handy with household repairs or changing oil, they are creative as they tap, tap, tap on his computer keyboard, and they offer amazing back and neck rubs. Thank you, dear wonderful life partner, for using your hands to serve others, to show your caring and love, and to lift the bread and wine as the officiant at Christ’s holy meal. You are a treasure!

Giving Possessions

Have you ever read Sandra Cisnero’s short story “Eleven”? If not, I highly recommend it to you. Click here to read it online. I have a red sweater that has always sort of reminded me of the sweater in Cisnero’s story–even though it isn’t ratty like the one in the story. Well, today I’m finally releasing it from my closet to find a new home. Bye, bye red sweater!

Giving Thanks

Tonight I give thanks for hands. I give thanks for my mother’s hands that have held me and stroked my hair when I’m sad. I’m thankful for my father’s hands that worked so hard to provide for us. I’m thankful for my spouse’s hands as he kneads bread dough each week. I’m thankful for the hands of those in our faith community who do so much and serve so well. I am thankful to have two hands to put to good use in the service of others. Blessings abound!

Photo by Nojhan used under Creative Commons License. Thanks!

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