Monday, November 26, 2012

…the man, the boy, and the hotel


‎"Open your heart and you will open your mind. Fear subverts faith. Knowledge overcomes fear. The more that we come to know one another as brothers and sisters, no matter how different we may seem, the more we create peace and possibility. The challenge before us is to dare to listen. To step out from our bunkers into the open spaces between ourselves, as dangerous as that may seem, and encounter one another as we are. The other is us. The human family is our birthright. We are diverse by design. Open your heart and you will open your mind."
The Rt. Rev. Steven Charleston, Choctaw

…the man, the boy, and the hotel
~unknown
A man and a young teenage boy checked in to a hotel and were shown to their room. The two receptionists noted the quiet manner of the guests, and the pale appearance of the boy. Later the man and boy ate dinner in the hotel restaurant. The staff again noticed that the two guests were very quiet, and that the boy seemed disinterested in his food. After eating, the boy went to his room and the man went to reception and asked to see the manager. The receptionist initially asked if there was a problem with the service or the room, and offered to fix things, but the man said that there was no problem of that sort, and repeated his request. The manager was called and duly appeared. The man asked to speak privately and was taken into the manager's office.
The man explained that he was spending the night in the hotel with his fourteen-year-old son, who was seriously ill, probably terminally so. The boy was very soon to undergo therapy, which would cause him to lose his hair. They had come to the hotel to have a break together and also because the boy planned to shave his head, that night, rather than feel that the illness was beating him. The father said that he would be shaving his own head too, in support of his son. He asked that staff be respectful when the two of them came to breakfast with their shaved heads. The manager assured the father that he would inform all staff and that they would behave appropriately.
The following morning the father and son entered the restaurant for breakfast.
There they saw the four male restaurant staff attending to their duties, perfectly normally, all with shaved heads. 
‎"Dear God, since most of my prayers turn into a shopping list, I thought I would just own up and leave you one. Please don't think me rude. These really are things I need. When you get a chance, please pick up some more hope. I always seem to need that. And some extra love. Faith, patience and humor: the staples. Get me a little courage if you would, to make the tough calls when they come around. I could use a generous amount of wisdom but I will get by with what you can spare. And time, please, just enough to put this list to good use. Thank you, dear God, I am grateful."
The Rt. Rev. Steven Charleston, Choctaw

“Because the Teacher was wise, he taught the people everything he knew. He collected proverbs and classified them.  Indeed, the Teacher taught the plain truth, and he did so in an interesting way.  A wise teacher's words spur students to action and emphasize important truths. The collected sayings of the wise are like guidance from a shepherd.”
~ Ecclesiastes 12: 9-11 (NLT)
I.N.J.

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Giving Thanks


“Although we all know that God is always with us to guide us throughout our lives and for that we are all thankful to Him. But the Thanksgiving Day is meant to inspire all of us to remember the Lord and give Him thanks for all that He has done for us. We thank Him for the sweet family, for the delicious dinner, for the turkey and for all other things that He has blessed us with. This 'giving thanks to the Lord' is the very spirit of the thanksgiving celebrations. God has always been there for us and on the Thanksgiving Day we let Him realize that we also care for Him and love Him.” ~ Ashthe

A Thanksgiving Story
 
Author: Andrea Nannette Mejia
It was the day before Thanksgiving ­ the first one my three children and I would be spending without their father, who had left several months before. Now the two older children were very sick with the flu, and the eldest had just been prescribed bed rest for a week.

It was a cool, gray day outside, and a light rain was falling. I grew wearier as I scurried around, trying to care for each child: thermometers, juice, diapers. And I was fast running out of liquids for the children. But when I checked my purse, all I found was about $2.50 ­ and this was supposed to last me until the end of the month. That's when I heard the phone ring.

It was the secretary from our former church, and she told me that they had been thinking about us and had something to give us from the congregation. I told her that I was going out to pick up some more juice and soup for the children, and I would drop by the church on my way to the market.

I arrived at the church just before lunch. The church secretary met me at the door and handed me a special gift envelope. "We think of you and the kids often," she said, "and you are in our hearts and prayers. We love you." When I opened the envelope, I found two grocery certificates inside. Each was worth $20. I was so touched and moved, I broke down and cried.

"Thank you very much," I said, as we hugged each other. "Please give our love and thanks to the church." Then I drove to a store near our home and purchased some much-needed items for the children.

At the check-out counter I had a little over $14.00 worth of groceries, and I handed the cashier one of the gift certificates. She took it, then turned her back for what seemed like a very long time. I thought something might be wrong. Finally I said, "This gift certificate is a real blessing. Our former church gave it to our family, knowing I'm a single patent trying to make ends meet."
The cashier then turned around, with tears in her loving eyes, and replied, "Honey, that's wonderful! Do you have a turkey?"

"No. It's okay because my children are sick anyway."
She then asked, "Do you have anything else for Thanksgiving dinner?"
Again I replied, "No."

After handing me the change from the certificate, she looked at my face and said, "Honey, I can't tell you exactly why right now, but I want you to go back into the store and buy a turkey, cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie or anything else you need for a Thanksgiving dinner."
I was shocked, and humbled to tears. "Are you sure?" I asked.

"Yes! Get whatever you want. And get some Gatorade for the kids."

I felt awkward as I went back to do more shopping, but I selected a fresh turkey, a few yams and potatoes, and some juices for the children. Then I wheeled the shopping cart up to the same cashier as before. As I placed my groceries on the counter, she looked at me once more with giant tears in her kind eyes and began to speak.

"Now I can tell you. This morning I prayed that I could help someone today, and you walked through my line." She reached under the counter for her purse and took out a $20 bill. She paid for my groceries and then handed me the change. Once more I was moved to tears.

The sweet cashier then said, "I am a Christian. Here is my phone number if you ever need anything." She then took my head in her hands, kissed my cheek and said, "God bless you, honey."

As I walked to my car, I was overwhelmed by this stranger's love and by the realization that God loves my family too, and shows us his love through this stranger's and my church's kind deeds.
The children were supposed to have spent Thanksgiving with their father that year, but because of the flu they were home with me, for a very special Thanksgiving Day. They were feeling better, and we all ate the goodness of the Lord's bounty ­ and our community's love. Our hearts were truly filled with thanks.

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.” ~ James 1:17
I.N.J.

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Embracing the Universe




 

Embracing the Universe 

Living a spiritual life makes our little, fearful hearts as wide as the universe, because the Spirit of Jesus dwelling within us embraces the whole of creation.  Jesus is the Word, through whom the universe has been created.  As Paul says:  "In him were created all things in heaven and on earth:  everything visible and everything invisible - all things were created through him and for him - in him all things hold together" (Colossians 1:16-17).  Therefore when Jesus lives within us through his Spirit, our hearts embrace not only all people but all of creation.  Love casts out all fear and gathers in all that belongs to God.

Prayer, which is breathing with the Spirit of Jesus, leads us to this immense knowledge. ~ Henri J. M. Nouwen



 General Revelation of the One God/One Creator

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

this season of your heart...


“Enter quietly now this season of your heart, this time of colder winds and falling leaves, when old memories burn like wood smoke on the breeze, when what is to come is buried in the sleeping earth all around you. Listen to the crisp air as it rattles the old bone branches. There is a message here for you, something you know by instinct, the hint of mortality, the whisper of age. Let these autumn twilights speak your language, let them have their say, for this is the changing time, the season of your heart, when God covers you with warming wings before the snow can find you.
~Bishop Seven Charleston, Choctaw


One kind word can warm three winter months.
~ Japanese Proverb

Carl’s Garden


Carl was a quiet man. He didn't talk much. He would always greet you with a big smile and a firm handshake. Even after living in our neighborhood for over 50 years, no one could really say they knew him very well. Before his retirement, he took the bus to work each morning. The lone sight of him walking down the street often worried us. He had a slight limp from a bullet wound received in WWII. Watching him, we worried that although he had survived WWII, he may not make it through our changing uptown neighborhood with its ever-increasing random violence, gangs, and drug activity. 

When he saw the flyer at our local church asking for volunteers for caring for the gardens behind the minister's residence, he responded in his characteristically unassuming manner. Without fanfare, he just signed up. 

He was well into his 87th year when the very thing we had always feared finally happened. He was just finishing his watering for the day when three gang members approached him. Ignoring their attempt to intimidate him, he simply asked, "Would you like a drink from the hose?" The tallest and toughest-looking of the three said, "Yeah, sure," with a malevolent little smile.

As Carl offered the hose to him, the other two grabbed Carl's arm, throwing him down. As the hose snaked crazily over the ground, dousing everything in its way, Carl's assailants stole his retirement watch and his wallet, and then fled. Carl tried to get himself up, but he had been thrown down on his bad leg. He lay there trying to gather himself as the minister came running to help him. 

Although the minister had witnessed the attack from his window, he couldn't get there fast enough to stop it. "Carl, are you okay? Are you hurt?" the minister kept asking as he helped Carl to his feet. 

Carl just passed a hand over his brow and sighed, shaking his head. "Just some punk kids. I hope they'll wise-up someday." His wet clothes clung to his slight frame as he bent to pick up the hose. He adjusted the nozzle again and started to water. 

Confused and a little concerned, the minister asked, "Carl, what are you doing?" 

"I've got to finish my watering. It's been very dry lately", came the calm reply.

Satisfying himself that Carl really was all right, the minister could only marvel. Carl was a man from a different time and place. 

A few weeks later the three returned. Just as before their threat was unchallenged. Carl again offered them a drink from his hose. This time they didn't rob him. They wrenched the hose from his hand and drenched him head to foot in the icy water. When they had finished their humiliation of him, they sauntered off down the street, throwing catcalls and curses, falling over one another laughing at the hilarity of what they had just done. Carl just watched them. Then he turned toward the warmth giving sun, picked up his hose, and went on with his watering. 

The summer was quickly fading into fall. Carl was doing some tilling when he was startled by the sudden approach of someone behind him. He stumbled and fell into some evergreen branches. As he struggled to regain his footing, he turned to see the tall leader of his summer tormentors reaching down for him. He braced himself for the expected attack. 

"Don't worry old man, I'm not gonna hurt you this time." The young man spoke softly, still offering the tattooed and scarred hand to Carl. As he helped Carl get up, the man pulled a crumpled bag from his pocket and handed it to Carl. 

"What's this?" Carl asked. 

"It's your stuff," the man explained. "It's your stuff back. Even the money in your wallet." 

"I don't understand," Carl said. "Why would you help me now?" 

The man shifted his feet, seeming embarrassed and ill at ease. "I learned something from you," he said. "I ran with that gang and hurt people like you. We picked you because you were old and we knew we could do it. But every time we came and did something to you, instead of yelling and fighting back, you tried to give us a drink. You didn't hate us for hating you. You kept showing love against our hate." He stopped for a moment. "I couldn't sleep after we stole your stuff, so here it is back." He paused for another awkward moment, not knowing what more there was to say. "That bag's my way of saying thanks for straightening me out, I guess." And with that, he walked off down the street. 

Carl looked down at the sack in his hands and gingerly opened it. He took out his retirement watch and put it back on his wrist. Opening his wallet, he checked for his wedding photo. He gazed for a moment at the young bride that still smiled back at him from all those years ago. 

He died one cold day after Christmas that winter. Many people attended his funeral in spite of the weather. In particular the minister noticed a tall young man that he didn't know sitting quietly in a distant corner of the church. The minister spoke of Carl's garden as a lesson in life. In a voice made thick with unshed tears, he said, "Do your best and make your garden as beautiful as you can. We will never forget Carl and his garden." 

The following spring another flyer went up. It read "Person needed to care for Carl's garden." The flyer went unnoticed by the busy parishioners until one day when a knock was heard at the minister's office door. Opening the door, the minister saw a pair of scarred and tattooed hands holding the flyer. "I believe this is my job, if you'll have me," the young man said. 

The minister recognized him as the same young man who had returned the stolen watch and wallet to Carl. He knew that Carl's kindness had turned this man's life around. As the minister handed him the keys to the garden shed, he said, "Yes, go take care of Carl's garden and honor him." 

The man went to work and, over the next several years, he tended the flowers and vegetables just as Carl had done. In that time, he went to college, got married, and became a prominent member of the community. But he never forgot his promise to Carl's memory and kept the garden as beautiful as he thought Carl would have kept it.

One day he approached the new minister and told him that he couldn't care for the garden any longer. He explained with a shy and happy smile, My wife just had a baby boy last night, and she's bringing him home on Saturday." 

"Well, congratulations!" said the minister, as he was handed the garden shed keys. "That's wonderful! What's the baby's name?"

"Carl," he replied.

My prayer today is that we can all be a little more like ‘Carl.’ I too will be retiring
soon. My last day will be Friday December 21, 2012. My wife Jo and I will be
relocating to Southeast Tennessee to tend our garden and start a new season
of ministry. I am sure the new Chaplain will continue putting out a Quote of
the Week. If you want to keep up with my musing and seeing my quotes you
may follow me on my blog: www.aministryofpresence.blogspot.com

“Then I realized that it is good and proper for a man to eat and drink, and to find
satisfaction in his toilsome labor under the sun during the few days of life God
has given him--for this is his lot.  Moreover, when God gives any man wealth
and possessions, and enables him to enjoy them, to accept his lot and be happy
in his work--this is a gift of God. He seldom reflects on the days of his life,
because God keeps him occupied with gladness of heart.
Ecclesiastes 5: 18-20



Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Out of the mouths of babes...


A kindergarten teacher was observing her classroom of children while they were drawing.  She would occasionally walk around to see each child’s work.  As she got to one little girl who was working diligently, she asked what the drawing was.  The little girl replied, “I’m drawing God.”
            The teacher paused and said, “But no one knows what God looks like.” Without missing a beat, or looking up from her drawing, the little girl replied, “They will in a minute.”

Lex Parsimoniae Latin for Occam’s razor
…”one should not increase, beyond what is necessary, the number of entities required to explain anything.” Or “Out of the mouths of babes…”

NEED WASHING??
A little girl had been shopping with her Mom in Target. She must have been 6 years old, this beautiful red haired, freckle faced image of innocence.
It was pouring outside. The kind of rain that gushes over the top of rain gutters, so much in a hurry to hit the earth it has no time to flow down the spout. We all stood there, under the awning, just inside the door of the Target.
We waited, some patiently, others irritated because nature messed up their hurried day.

I am always mesmerized by rainfall. I got lost in the sound and sight of the heavens washing away the dirt and dust of the world. Memories of running, splashing so carefree as a child came pouring in as a welcome reprieve from the worries of my day..

Her little voice was so sweet as it broke the hypnotic trance we were all caught in, 'Mom let's run through the rain,'
she said.
'What?' Mom asked.

'Let's run through the rain!' She repeated.

'No, honey. We'll wait until it slows down a bit,' Mom replied.

This young child waited a minute and repeated: 'Mom, let's run through the rain.'

'We'll get soaked if we do,' Mom said.

'No, we won't, Mom. That's not what you said this morning,' the young girl said as she tugged at her Mom's arm.
'This morning? When did I say we could run through the rain and not get wet?'

'Don't you remember? When you were talking to Daddy about his cancer, you said, 'If God can get us through this, he can get us through anything!''

The entire crowd stopped dead silent. I swear you couldn't hear anything but the rain. We all stood silently. No one left. Mom paused and thought for a moment about what she would say.

Now some would laugh it off and scold her for being silly. Some might even ignore what was said… But this was a moment of affirmation in a young child's life; a time when innocent trust can be nurtured so that it will bloom into faith.

'Honey, you are absolutely right. Let's run through the rain. If GOD let's us get wet, well maybe we just need washing,' Mom said.

Then off they ran. We all stood watching, smiling and laughing as they darted past the cars and yes, through the puddles. They got soaked. 

They were followed by a few who screamed and laughed like children all the way to their cars. And yes, I did. I ran. I got wet. I needed washing.

Circumstances or people can take away your material possessions, they can take away your money, and they can take away your health. But no one can ever take away your precious memories... So, don't forget to make time and take the opportunities to make memories everyday.

To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under heaven.

“But when the chief priests and the scribes saw the wonderful things that he did, and the children crying out in the temple, “Hosanna to the Son of David!” they were indignant, and they said to him, “Do you hear what these are saying?” And Jesus said to them, “Yes; have you never read, ‘Out of the mouth of infants and nursing babies you have prepared praise’?” (Matthew 21:15-16 ESV)


Thursday, November 1, 2012

Empathy


I wrote a piece on empathy not long ago from a spiritual point of view. The link appears below. This brief piece from Seth Godin that appeared this morning offers a telling reflection on the same subject. I think it might be worth tattooing on my arm (figuratively speaking):

"I know what you should do

Actually, I don't.

I know what I would do in this situation, but I'm not you.

I know what your customer should do, but I'm not her.

I know (and you know, and we all know) what we would do in a given situation, but that's not the same thing.

Empathy requires something extremely difficult: accepting the fact that we are not and never will be in the other person's shoes. There's no rational, universal course because individuals have different goals, different worldviews and different experiences."

http://www.patheos.com/blogs/whatgodwantsforyourlife/2012/10/the-empathetic-spirit/

I don't see any way that I could improve on this.  Please take the time to go to the link. Then reflect.

I.N.J.