Author: admin

Several streams of thought this morning – perhaps they will connect, perhaps not. Either way my hope is the same; that from the reflections,  readers will be encouraged or inspired.

I liked a phrase I came across in a devotional: “keeper of the clock.” It referred to God of course. As the author and perfecter of everything , His sovereignty includes time, or timing. That would make Him the Keeper of the Clock, the Ruler of when things occur. There is comfort in that reasoning. For if we believe He controls time, then we know that just as the hands of a clock tick away the 24 hours that mark a day, so are the hours of COVID-19 ticking away. Under His control the virus will yield to the natural rhythm of time He has set in motion. As our 24 hour cycles signal the end of one time frame and the start of a new one, so does that of the coronavirus’. The time is coming when the hands of this infection will run its course; a time when the Lord will remove the battery that keeps it ticking; a time when once again His timing will prove perfect.

A dear sister-friend sent me a picture and text message today that showed a crushed vehicle in which an 83 man had been killed as he retrieved groceries from his trunk by a hit and run driver who’d lost control of his car. The victim was the uncle of someone she knew. As I pondered the tragedy and cruelty of the driver in not stopping, I reflected upon the irony of the times.  Irrespective of the pandemic raging throughout the land, the beat of life goes on. Beyond COVID-19, both the bitter and sweet mark our days. Folks are still having heart attacks and strokes; babies are still being born; people are buying and selling houses; vehicles still run (though perhaps not as many); online shopping continues as people make purchases of necessities and non-necessities.  Ours is a surreal world. Even with the new norms brought to bear because of the virus, the dual nature of humanity still exists. The eternal battle between good and evil thrives in times like this.  Our hope resides outside the surreal. It resides in the realness  of the God we call Yahweh, in Him alone.

This brings me to my final thought for today’s blog. During my walk this morning, I listened to a YouTube broadcast by the pastor of  Lily Grove Baptist Church in Houston, Texas. It’s a virtual Wednesday night Bible study and the two episodes to date are entitled, “Biblical Vaccine for COVID-19.” Reverend Anderson uses Psalm 23 as the scripture for the lessons. I recommend them. They offer support for coping with our crisis with the best antidote available-the Holy Bible. For those of you struggling still, despite your protestations that you’re okay, this just might bring the measure of peace you seek. Until next time—

Love. Joy. Peace.

 

 

I’ve added a new ritual to my mornings since the advent of this pandemic. I take my temperature with the little Vick’s thermometer  that sat unused in the medicine cabinet. I’ve discovered I like the feeling of knowing my temp is normal even if the rest of my world is not. Somehow that simple practice serves a purpose beyond that for which the instrument is designed. I figure if my body temp is within a safe range then I’m prepped and ready to face whatever the day may bring. In a time when old norms have been so altered, a daily temperature reading becomes part of the new norm we live shadowed by an unseen enemy. Prayer, scripture, devotional readings and temperature measurement – disciplines to begin the day.

And what do I and all Americans typically face today? That most dreaded day of the year,  April 15, the annual deadline date for filing and paying income taxes.  But hold on; this is a new normal. Because of COVID-19,  federal and state governments have extended tax day to July 15, 2020.  Since its institution in 1955, the date has never been changed unless it falls on a Sunday or national holiday, whereupon it is extended to the next working day. But extending it for three months – Nada.

I understand that these ongoing disruptions and interruptions are harrying; that the feeling of being under assault is real for many. And rightly so with food banks scrambling to meet the needs of historic numbers of people, with first line care workers coping with insufficient equipment and supplies, with small and large businesses searching for ways to stay afloat, and of course with us not yet in control of this deadly virus. Scary times for so many. But this morning I come bearing gifts: I noted them in the last sentence of my first paragraph. I imagine more of you are praying more than perhaps you ever did. I suspect a good number of you are seeking solace and guidance in your Bibles. And I’m fairly certain even more of you are reading online or in hardcover devotional books written by Christian writers (personal plug here-mine are available on the usual websites). Today I offer my newest discovery: temperature reading. Maybe like me you’ll find in that little ritual  a gentle sense that all is well; that God is still on His throne; that nothing is transpiring of which He is unaware; that in His timing and in His way and purpose all will evolve as He designs; that the greatest lesson we can take away from this new normal is that He alone is our Savior. And even if, heaven forbid, you have an elevated temp, you’ll thank Him for alerting you first thing in the morning!

Love. Joy. Peace.

 

Balance. One of the many definitions of the word “balance” is “a condition in which different elements are equal or in the correct proportions.” It’s that sense of the word that came to mind this morning. A prayer line petitioner asked that we pray for a nephew who  tested positive for the coronavirus and is hospitalized. At about the same time, I received a text message from a friend whose daughter’s test for the virus came back negative. The two scenarios prompted thought about this pandemic ravaging our nation and the world. I believe our perspective might be better served if we remember that not everyone tests positive; that if we combine the number of those who test negative with the number of those who are being cured and released from hospitals, we might see the glimmer of a rainbow, instead of an unending dark cloud.

To some that might seem naïve. But when I consider that we serve a God who employed “balance” in the creation of the world and in everything else He touched and touches still,  I conclude that  balance is germane to our existence and offer as my proof those timeless words of Ecclesiastes:

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build up, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them together, a time to embrace and a time refrain, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to give away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace.“

There is balance in each of these assertions, just as there is balance now. The God who authored the concept of balance is not absent during this pandemic. As He wills (as is HIs right to do), the COVID-19 balance beam will right itself. The balance in the aftermath will reveal sorrow and joy, defeat and victory. As we rejoice in the one and weep in the other, may we never forget that in it all reigns a sovereign God. A God of balance. A God of love.

Love. Joy. Peace.

Back in the day (Was that only two months ago?), the day after Easter typically marked the return to work and  to school. Easter speeches were trashed;  the last of the jelly beans hidden  in the grass of Easter baskets eaten before  the baskets were stored away.  50% markdowns on everything Easter greeted shoppers, and of course white shoes were approved to grace feet tired of winter’s dark and dreary tones.  Another Holy Week and Resurrection Sunday secured in our mental memory bank, waiting to be retrieved  the following year. Secular and sacred life returned to their normal routines.

Today, we recall those times with longing. We have learned how quickly the norms of our existence can change; how things we took for granted can be snatched away, leaving us confused and off kilter. Many began this day after Easter, not leaving for work, but settling in to work from home (And they’re the fortunate ones; many of their fellow countrymen and women have not the luxury, or have lost their jobs altogether). There was no mad dash to get the kids to school on time; school is closed for the balance of the school year. The 50% markdowns have been in effect for weeks as retail stores struggle to keep their businesses afloat in an economy whose premier products are toilet paper, Lysol spray and hand sanitizer. And white shoes have yet to grace anyone’s feet as the footwear of the day for most  is slippers or flip flops or socks. No need to dress; nobody is going anywhere.

This day after Easter 2020 finds us with a different focus. Though we keep our eyes peeled on the screen coverage of the COVID-19 pandemic’s continuing onslaught, we have also been drawn because of this unprecedented experience to less secular pursuits or concerns. Forced isolation in our homes, social distancing and the closure of most of the places we usually people focuses us inward and outward. Quietness and stillness give us opportunities we miss when consumed by the frantic pace of life we knew as normal; we embrace the time to phone and text family and friends; to reach out to those who are alone. More than ever we appreciate technology that allows video visitations of loved ones in nursing homes, virtual lessons and facetime hangouts with besties. And when we give our smartphones and tablets a break, we’re rediscovering the printed word. And most especially for Christian believers, we’ve moved the Bible from bookcase occupant to bedside companion whose written words have always given comfort and hope during unsettling times. Scripture proclaims, “In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength, but you would have none of it.” (Isaiah 30:15) Perhaps these words spoken by God to His people so long ago are words we are wise to hear and heed today. Perhaps our salvation does indeed come with our willingness to turn from the norms of society that flaunt the will of the Creator; to find in the quietness of a professed Christian nation forced to be still in the wake of a pandemic,  a new sense of what it means to trust and find strength to weather our current circumstances; and to know with certainty the assurance that comes from God in a season such as this.

Love. Joy. Peace.

Usually I write earlier in the day, preferably before noon, but today “got away from me”  as the old saying goes. It’s just as well as the late start has afforded me the chance to think about the Saturday that precedes Easter Sunday from more than one perspective. As I slipped into jeans and a tee this morning, I remembered the pre-Easter Saturdays of my youth and early to mid adulthood. I can only speak to the experiences of those of us of varying hues who long ago were kissed by the sun. Commonly in our homes that was a day of preparation for the grandest of church services. Hours would  be spent in those hallowed spaces called beauty shops that prepped the locks of the females in the household while barber shops did the same for dads and sons. (Assuming one could afford such services; if not mothers and dads did the honors in kitchens and bathrooms) Easter outfits hung ready to adorn; dinner was prepped or, if one had the means, brunch reservations were secured. Easter baskets filled with dyed eggs, jelly beans,  Peeps and chocolate bunnies sat on a table, waiting for the attack of little people the next morning. It wasn’t a somber day at all. I don’t recall it being called Holy Saturday,  or a day reserved for reflective thought,  though we knew that Jesus was dead in the tomb after His crucifixion the day before. But we didn’t linger on that. We were too hyped in our preparation for Sunday – the crush of crowded pews sporting congregants in their Easter finery, the choir in full regalia singing “Christ the Lord is risen today, Alleluia”, the little children’s Easter speeches,- “What cha looking at me for? I didn’t come to stay. I just came to wish you Happy Easter Day,” and the sermonic theme that spoke to the essence of our faith-Jesus is risen!

“Longevity has its place“, MLK, Jr said and I certainty agree. With longevity comes the blessing of the opportunity to mature in one’s faith, to come to a greater understanding of what it means to believe in Jesus and to follow Him. What I knew only in part then I know now more fully. And I continue by His grace to grow in my understanding of the faith I profess. Thus Holy Saturday is not like the aforementioned. Instead it forces me to confront something very uncomfortable, something that saddens, something that reaches my core. Jesus lies in a tomb on this day 2000 years ago. He’s been cruelly crucified and death has claimed him. He has scarified His life to save me.  That reality hits home every year and though I know Resurrection is just hours away, today is a sobering day. It is a day in which we are given the chance again to embrace our faith, to get better at this calling to be like Christ.

And perhaps more so than ever in our lifetimes, we are in the unique position of knowing what it might have felt like for the disciples on this Saturday. They stayed out of sight for fear of reprisal by the Roman authorities. We imagine their uncertainty, their anxiety, their sense that life had changed so drastically it might never be the same. In this period of pandemic that has us staying out of sight for fear of an enemy  that is no respecter of person, we too fall prey to fear, to uncertainty, to anxiety and the sense of life being so disrupted, it might never be the same.  Unlike the disciples however, we know what tomorrow holds, as we know who holds it. The joy of Jesus’ resurrection restored their hope and faith in Him. Life did change, but it was a change that fulfilled God’s plans. I think we can claim in tomorrow’s Resurrection Sunday a resurrection of our hope and a renewal of faith. God holds the world in His hands today as He did then. As death did not defeat Jesus; neither will a virus defeat the Lord’s plans and purposes. Irrespective of statistics and pundits, God knows what He’s doing, even in the midst of illness and death. We who know Him also know that His Son has conquered death. God’s plans will prevail.  Tomorrow, (God willing) we will rejoice – no matter where we are.

Love. Joy. Peace,

 

Remember the song, “What a Difference a Day Makes- 24 little hours?” I give you a pass if you don’t. It’s probably just us seasoned saints who do.  I thought of it as I began my reflections today.. Wasn’t it just twenty four hours or so ago that the festive Passover crowd surged through Jerusalem shouting, “Hosanna! Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!” as Jesus made His triumphal entry into the city? And now, on this day we call “Good Friday,” the cheers that greeted Him turned to jeers as He made His way to Calvary shouldering a cross. Someone asked the question, “Why do we call it Good Friday if it’s the day Jesus died. What’s good about that?” On first thought that’s a reasonable question. The answer is found in the original meaning of the word “good. ” In ancient times it meant “pious or holy.” Think of our usage of good in describing the Bible. We call it the” Good Book.” Today is good because Jesus’ death allowed His resurrection. His resurrection conquered death and sin forever, granted us salvation and positioned us to be in right relationship with God. Think about it. Can it get any “gooder” than that! ( I know that’s not a real word, but it fits and you get my drift.)

It is appropriate I think for this day to be one of reflection upon the events that occurred more than 2000 years ago. Jesus’ death and eventual resurrection changed the world God created, setting it on a projectory to eternity. It gave humankind the proverbial “second chance” to get it right with the Creator. In the solemnity of the day we not only reflect upon its meaning, but also spend some time in self-examination, confession and recommitment. We own our mismatch of our assertion of faith and our actions of faith and commit to realigning them. Yes, it is a day when tears of sadness and joy comingle. The rainbow in the cloud of “shelter in place and social distancing” is the finding of contentment in the midst of contagion. Perhaps this historical moment of forced inactivity and the new norms is what God is saying we need in order to refocus on Him and the day He gave His only Son as a sacrifice of love for us.

Love. Joy. Peace.

 

Random thoughts swirl on this day of commemoration of the Lord’s last supper with His disciples before His crucifixion. I realized this morning that I had no idea why the day is called “Maundy Thursday,” just that it is. A little research reveals the word Maundy comes from the Latin word “command.” It refers to the command or commandment Jesus gave His followers to “Love one another as I have loved you.”  During the supper He expressed His love would be shown in the sacrifice of His body and the spilling of His blood for them. Going further He demonstrated that love by washing their feet as a servant would, giving them and us a model of what love looks like in practice.  Sadly, neither the Lord’s Supper nor the foot-washing ritual will be observed in most Christian congregations this year. The COVID-19 virus and prohibitions it has caused  will prevent the observance. What the pandemic cannot prevent however is the spirit inherent in the observance. Maundy Thursday calls us to remember Jesus’ commandment. We don’t have to be at a service in a particular place to love each other as He loves us; to serve others as He would want us to; to demonstrate that “Jesus love”  is shown in our actions; that our love of Him is manifested in our obedience to Him.

There is no segue from those thoughts to the next. I began by saying my thoughts are random. Some days are like that. Today is one of those days.

The closing question in today’s Interruptions lesson is “What does Jesus want to tell us today?” I had scribbled my answers three years ago at the bottom of the page. As I read them, I was struck by the fact that they are as relevant today as then. I’ll list them so that you can see that irrespective of time, Jesus’ message is timeless. 1-To not be afraid of  life-threatening circumstances  2- To recognize He is still alive 3- That He is in control even if it seems He isn’t and   4- That we are to press on. Three years ago as my family grappled with the reality of my son’s hemorrhagic stroke, those were the things I felt Jesus wanted to tell me. Today as the nation and the world grapple with the threat of the coronavirus, I think He’s repeating Himself. His message remains; we are wise to recognize it in moments when we most need Him, moments like today.  Three years ago as I drove one day to the nursing home to see Q, an 18 foot wheeler crossed the intersection in front of me. On the sparkling white panel of that huge truck, in blazing red was written a single word, JESUS. No company logo identified the vehicle. It came from a side street and before my eyes disappeared onto the interstate.  In that brief encounter, I drove on knowing that Jesus had spoken; that He was assuring me that in a season when I most needed Him, He was there. I believe the same today. The battle continues. Our engagement may last a while. But Jesus in this interruption caused by a pandemic is still passing by at the intersections of our lives; still bringing hope; still comforting. His faithfulness is forever.

Love. Joy. Peace.

 

 

 

The countdown to the day of salvation nears its end. In the 21st century we know how this week closes; 2000 years ago they had no clue. On that Wednesday, caught up in the festivities of Passover, mingling with pilgrims from far away places who spoke different languages, pushing and shoving through the narrow crowed streets of Jerusalem, the followers of Jesus did not realize that in the dwindling hours before Sunday,  they would come to know the pain and agony of crushed dreams, dashed hopes, broken hearts.  Even when He said at the Passover supper that Thursday evening, “I tell you the truth, one of you will betray me – one who is eating with me. .. It is one of the Twelve, he replied, one who dips bread into the bowl with me.”  (Mark 14:17-20), they still didn’t get it. If we were them, we wouldn’t have gotten it either. He had shown His divinity on too many occasions, especially to the Twelve, to doubt that a change was indeed coming for God’s people. And that change agent was Jesus.

I think it helps this Holy Week, one cast in the shadow of a disease relentless in its spread, to remember that the darkness and fear that would descend upon Jesus’ followers in two more days, did not last. Though they forgot what He had taught about the tragedy as they experienced it, on the third day,  they discovered all was not lost. Jesus had overcome death. Life more abundant than anything they had ever known lay ahead of them.

I believe we are at this moment experiencing the pain and agony that the disciples knew then.  It seems impossible that in a nation renowned for its knowledge and expertise in most things; a nation touted for its power and influence struggles to rein in a  darkness that covers the land. But that is the reality of the moment. But it’s certainly not the end of the story. Jesus’ resurrection on that third day was not a one-off for His time. It was the beginning of His dominance over everything that befalls humandkind. Nothing is beyond His  power to heal, to renew, to restore, to transform, to save. Believers who claim that are able to face each day of “shelter in place” with a sense of peace. They know the Salvation Giver’s  reach is beyond measure; that “all things work together for good for those who love the Lord and are called according to His purposes.” Yes, the days are dark; but the One who spoke both light into darkness is still sovereign. He is in control. We shall see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Rejoice. Rejoice. Rejoice.

Love. Joy. Peace.

 

It’s one of those days when my thoughts refuse to focus; as if the creative side of my brain has gone on holiday and I’m left with the logical side jeering my efforts to write today’s post. You might call it “writers block.” I’m inclined to think it’s more the challenge of what is worthy of thought in this interrupted season of our lives. It’s the choosing that has me momentarily stumped. I could speak to the solemnity of the prayer line this morning evidenced by the requests that almost doubled the norm; or about the continuing rise in the numbers of those stricken by the coronavirus; or the ongoing need of medical supplies and safety protections for the nurses and doctors on the front lines of treatment and care; or the recent revelation by funeral home directors that they are beyond capacity in meeting the ordinary needs of families who’ve lost loved ones to the pandemic; or the ban against visitors to hospitals and nursing homes and not being able to see if their loved ones needs are being competently addressed; or the disappointment of our nation’s high school and college graduates because at all levels schools have shut their doors ending the year and cancelling the normal celebratory events that mark these milestones; or the quiet anxiety that creeps like fog across a land of social distancing, face masks and gloves in public places a norm part of sartorial choices, shelter-in-place orders, and yes, the never ending hunt for toilet paper and Lysol spray.

I suppose if I put my mind to it after praying for inspiration, I could craft a post about any of those today. But as I’ve been writing, I realize that maybe what the Lord is calling  me to do today is acknowledge those concerns of the times, but not dwell upon them. Perhaps He’s shifting my focus from the problems we face to His blessings in the midst of these problems. Perhaps on this Tuesday of Holy Week, He simply wants to focus my thoughts on a time over 2000 years ago when His Son  was in the town of Jerusalem during the Jewish Passover celebration. During that week,  that only Son would go from being celebrated as a king to being crucified on a cross. As difficult and heart wrenching that must have been for the Father, He allowed it anyway because of what that tragedy would birth on Resurrection Sunday. Perhaps if I focus on the interruption at Calvary, I will find in these Holy Week moments of reflective quiet and stillness that our heavenly Father offered His love to us through Jesus’ death and confirmed it with His resurrection. If He loves us to that extent, He is with us now in love, biding His time as the virus runs its course. He could have stopped the crucifixion to spare Jesus the anguish; He could stop the virus to spare us anguish now. But He didn’t and He hasn’t. We know  why He didn’t 2000 years ago. We have to trust His reasons for why He hasn’t now. Just as a greater purpose was served  in the tragedy at Calvary, so will God’s greater purposes be served by what we are experiencing in 2020. It may even be a while before we can look at the current battle against an unseen virus and understand that God was there with us and His will for us was perfect.

Love. Joy. Peace.