A Life of Purpose

Every other Friday I host a "Sharing Circle" at Gender Road Christian Church.  Usually we meet in the shelter house.  Everyone brings their own chair and we socially distance.  Some wear masks and some don't.

I have been leading this group for about four months and usually six to eight meet just to share how things are for us during the Pandemic.  I usually have a question - like - name a struggle and a joy.  Something like that so that we can reflect together about our own journeys and feel some comfort in knowing that our experience is shared by others.

The very first time we met, someone shared about how she feels like she never gets anything done.  It is an opportunity - with so many activities cancelled - to clean closets or organize papers or just do those tasks that we put off.  The reality for many of us is that this pandemic has left us feeling kind of scattered and actually lost.

This past Friday much of the conversation was around how much we all miss the activities of the church.  One woman who has spent hours visiting people in the hospital and in their homes lamented that she felt like she has lost her purpose.  At first people tried to give her suggestions, but eventually we all admitted that we share that sense.  Who am I now that I can't work in the kitchen, be a greeter, worship with my friends?  What do I do now?

And the answer?  I don't know except to try to live one day at a time with our eyes open for people to love.  I write this today as I spend time with Maggie, my 6 year old granddaughter.  Her mother has a 3 hour zoom meeting today and Maggie and I have been playing games, reading, listening to music and just "chilling out."  This past weekend I took her sister - with Audrey - to Cincinnati to celebrate her 16th birthday.  We went to the Sign Museum, on a boat trip on the Ohio River, a walk in Eden Park and a visit to the UC campus.  It was  fun and really all I want is for her to feel loved by me and her aunt.  Sixteen is not an easy age - especially when you are the middle child in the family.

Over and over the answer comes to me about purpose - the purpose is to love.  To love God, to love others, to love ourselves. It is so simple to say and so hard to do.  And yet what I believe is that in this wounded and broken world - love is the greatest healer that there is.

And so, I spend time with God in prayer to get centered again and ask God to love me, to show me, to guide me.  As I gather people together in a circle, I pray that God gathers me.  This is a prayer by Ted Loder

O God, gather me now to be with you as you are with me.

Soothe my tiredness, quiet my fretfulness, curb my aimlessness, relieve my compulsiveness, let me be easy for a moment.

O Lord, release me from the fears and guilts which grip me so tightly, from the expectations and opinions which I so tightly grip, that I may be open to receiving what you give, to risking something genuinely new, to learning something refreshingly different.

O God, gather me to be with you as you are with me.

Forgive me for claiming so much for myself that I leave no room for gratitude: for confusing exercises in self-importance with acceptance of self-worth: for complaining so much of my burdens that I become a burden; for competing against others so insidiously that I stifle celebrating them and receiving your blessing through their gifts.

O God, gather me to be with you as you are with me.

Keep me in touch with myself, with my needs, my anxieties, my angers, my pains, my corruptions, that I may claim them as my own rather than blame them on someone else.

O Lord, deepen my wounds into wisdom, shape my weaknesses into compassion; gentle my envy into enjoyment, my fear into trust, my guilt into honesty, my accusing fingers into tickling ones.

O God, gather me to be with you as you are with me.

Preciousness and Fragility

I am taking a course on Teresa of Avila by James Finley and listened to him this morning talk about how praying "that I might see."  And that our ultimate situation is "Christ Consciousness."

 What prayer helps me to see is my preciousness and my fragility.  Both.

The preciousness is this awareness of God's infinite love that is flowing out to the universe and to each of us.  I wonder if any of us can ever know how loved we are?  We can say it and sometimes get a glimpse of it - but to live in it would be wonderful.  I believe that so much of our low self esteem and so many of our bad decisions come out of a lack of awareness of our own preciousness.  

And, at the same time we are so fragile and so vulnerable.  Our bodies, our minds, our world, our families, our economies.  There is nothing we can count on or control ultimately.  Those awarenesses are when we turn to God  - who is like a shepherd, a rock, a loving father, "our help in ages past". And in that turning to there is a kind of peace.

So I start this Wednesday morning with a prayer that i might see.  My prayer is that I might become aware of my tendency to not be aware of my preciousness and my fragility.

That Christ consciousness gives me both peace and purpose in this time - and actually in every time.

I will end with a prayer by Teresa of Avila

Lord, grant that I may always allow myself
to be guided by You,
always follow Your plans,
and perfectly accomplish Your Holy Will.
Grant that in all things,
great and small,
today and all the days of my life,
I may do whatever You require of me.
Help me respond to the slightest prompting of Your Grace,
so that I may be Your trustworthy instrument for Your honour.
May Your Will be done in time
and in eternity by me, in me, and through me. Amen.

Lessons from Pickleball

Anyone who knows me - even just on facebook - knows that pickleball has become very important to me in the past few months.  I now play 4 times a week - both at church, at Woodword park near home and in Powell.  It is a source for exercise and fellowship and fun.  It really is play.

When I first started I thought to myself - just be patient with yourself.  Your body will figure out what it needs to do.  That has been the case.  Like everyone that I play with - I am improving over these months.  I am watching the ball more consistently, aware of how to tilt the paddle to direct the ball, moving my feet more and generally playing with a greater awareness of where the ball will go.  Of course, like everyone else, I have times when I whiff and completely miss the ball, hit it into the net, mess up serves, and hit way too hard!  That's part of playing.

What I realize is that my pickleball philosophy has also become - in a large way - my general philosophy of life. Get yourself in the arena, be willing to make mistakes, keep your eye on the ball, have fun and you will improve.

Yesterday I preached on one of the hardest parables in the Bible - Matthew 22: 1-14.  At one point I talked about spiritual disciplines and how helpful they are.  Afterwards I thought that really,  it is not dissimilar from my pickleball lessons. 

 There is something about "Just do it!"  The "It" in our spiritual journey is the disciplines - prayer, worship attendance, Bible reading, study, service.  I watch   people in my Bible studies, that come to outdoor worship, that join me in our "sharing group" , that continue to reach out to others in prayer and in service . I believe that they are  feeling more connected to God and to each other.  I won't use the word "improve" but my sense is that in this time of pandemic, racial distress and political divisiveness, it gives a sense of peace and purpose we might not otherwise have.  But it is not one thing and it is a gradual process of sticking with it.

Today is Monday morning and I have spent time with God listening and praying.  It is a good beginning to the week.  In an hour I will be walking on a pickleball court - that is also a good way to spend time on a Monday.

And in the words of Teresa of Avila

“Let nothing perturb you, 

nothing frighten you.

 All things pass.

 God does not change.

 Patience achieves everything.”

Vulnerability

One of my friends had a heart attack this week.  She lives alone and - in the middle of the night - was aware that something was wrong.  After a while, she determined she needed to call the squad.  She was taken to the hospital and cared for and is now home. Similarly I have another friend who broke her leg in the shower and also - living alone - had to manage to call the squad to get care in the hospital. 

I hear these stories with concern for them and also an awareness of my own vulnerability.  I write this on Saturday morning after learning that our president has been flown to the hospital after his Covid diagnosis. My guess is - actually my hope is - that he is becoming aware of his vulnerability.  There are somethings we cannot control.

This morning I began my prayer with the "Pray as you go" App  had this scripture  from Matthew 18: 1-5

 At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” ² He called a child, whom he put among them, ³ and said, “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. ⁴ Whoever becomes humble like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. ⁵ Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.

 

What struck me in this reading was these words: " unless you change and become like children."  It often takes times of vulnerability to "become like children" - aware of our need of help, open to learn, vulnerable, open to God.  I think of the song we all sang as children - Jesus loves me and the line - We are weak but he is strong.

My friends are women of faith and are looking for and often aware of God's presence in the midst of hard times. They are humble people and know that they are weak.  That truly is my hope and prayer for our president today.  I pray for healing - not only physical - but also spiritual. It is in the darkest times when we acknowledge our weakness that we experience the light of Jesus and God's  gracious love often expressed  through caring people. 

 I will end this post with a wonderful quote by Madeleine L'Engle

 “When we were children, we used to think that when we were grown-up we would no longer be vulnerable. But to grow up is to accept vulnerability... To be alive is to be vulnerable.”
― Madeleine L'Engle