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Listening to Isaac
Two and a half hours. That’s how long my wait was last Saturday morning from arriving at the Bismarck, North Dakota airport until the first of three flights heading home from vacation.
When you look at the photo above, you see four black chairs by the wall of windows. That’s where I chose to sit and wait. That’s where I met Isaac.
After the first 30 minutes, he moved to the chair beside me to accommodate a couple that walked up. I felt the need to start the small talk. Genuinely curious about his hoodie, I said, “The colors of your hoodie intrigue me.”
The rest of the conversation was mostly him telling me his story. About his marriage, their daughter, the challenge to bring them to America from the Philippines, his learning to walk again following a hospital stay, his struggles about making the right decision, being brought up Catholic, and his resistance to believe in just about anything due to imposters.
Somewhere in the middle he said, “I have no idea why I’m telling you all this.”
When the words ran out, he thanked me for listening and heading to the security line.
Something told me he needed to talk. Not make a decision. Not get advice. Not make a new friend. Just let it out.
Two strangers connected, around ten minutes. Over the colors of a hoodie. And life.
Psalms: Being Prayed Over
Many of my more moving moments of prayer have been when someone is being prayed over.
Maybe it’s because we don’t do it enough. Maybe it’s because we wait too long. Maybe it’s simply because it’s the breath of communion.
Each time my spiritual director prays over me, there’s an invitation and connection with the Holy One. Those two things are always in reach, but they seem energized by the words and spirit of a fellow believer.
I’ve witnessed this twice in the last two months while praying over believers in emotional and spiritual pain. It seemed either they were hearing words they didn’t know how to voice or cries exactly aligned with their hearts. These were holy communion moments.
In a different but similar way, I’ve experienced this by an unexpected means this week. Rather than reading my daily scriptures, I’ve utilized the audio reading on the app. Since I’m in Psalms, my experience feels very much like I’m being prayed over. Phrases rang truer, praises raised higher, and promises rose stronger.
Maybe scripture feels lifeless for you today. Maybe someone reading it over you would restart your inhaling and exhaling.
Maybe you’ve ran out of words to pray. Maybe someone praying over you could pick up where you left off, even say what you didn’t know how to or knew you needed to.
Communion awaits.
John Williams: Joy Producer
As a new Disney+ subscriber, I’m a happy customer, if for no reason to have come across “Music by John Williams.”
Having no knowledge of his background, I now have a deeper respect for his journey and admiration for his dedication to his craft.
The breadth of his work is remarkable, but the volume of it is astounding. It’s almost like he cannot not produce. He states in one clip, “I write music every morning,” almost like, “I have a cup of coffee every morning.” It’s just what he does.
One of life’s pleasures is watching people who love what they do. In all the clips in this documentary, only once did he voice any noticeable frustration, and that was only because he was struggling to find the direction for this complex segment in Close Encounters of the Third Kind.
How has he done it? How does he continue to do it in his 90s?
Many answers would all probably be accurate. From watching this film, the one word that answers it for me is joy.
His dedication = rooted in joy
His work ethic = rooted in joy
His varied interests = rooted in joy
His resiliency = rooted in joy
His longevity = rooted in joy
Maybe that’s why the world knows his name, loves his music, and celebrates his heart.
Need some joy? Watch this film-a celebration of producing joy.
The Wisdom of Stability, Part 2-Midday Demons (book review)
The following chapter in Hartgrove’s book warns, “Buckle Up!”
After encouraging nurturing roots of love, he immediately offers that you can expect spiritual challenges. His first reference retells the story of the desert monastics’ “describing the ‘noonday devil’ who attacks after one commits to stay and begins to feel the heat of high noon.”
This is where the book’s subtitle, “Rooting Faith in a Mobile Culture,” gets highlighted. To stay, to root, to pursue stability “against the seas of constant change makes us susceptible to temptations we would not otherwise have occasion to know.”
The practice of stability cannot be reduced to a quick fix for the spiritual anxiety of a placeless people. It is a process. It takes time…To persevere in the process that leads to real growth, we must learn to name and resist the midday demons.
These are the three midday demons:
- Ambition’s Whisper
- Boredom’s Rut
- Vainglory’s Delusion
I’m quite familiar with the first two. They often show face at high noon. Hartgrove offers several countermoves to these temptations focused on both spirit and body including physical activity, engaging community, and dying well.
This book, available on hoopla and an easy weekend read, is worthwhile. If you only read chapters four and five of this book, you will be enriched. However much you read, you’ll find yourself wiser and pondering your stability.
The Wisdom of Stability, Part 1-Roots of Love (book review)
Reading while traveling last weekend I gained a broader definition for stability thanks to Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove. His book, The Wisdom of Stability, affirmed and challenged me, leaving me with this evaluation-I’m decently stable, but there’s always need for growth.
It’s important to point out what Hartgrove is addressing. He’s not talking about the need for emotional regulation or mental wellness. In simple terms, he shares a message of valuing staying put, committing to less wandering, and acknowledging “there comes a time to set seeking aside,” as Kathleen Norris states in her foreword.
Example: I overheard someone this morning describing the makeup of three fantasy football leagues they’re active in. One is made up of college friends; another is made up of childhood friends. Possibly without intention, this person is practicing stability in a way that many of us aren’t.
To practice stability is to learn to love both a place and its people. -Chapter 4, “Roots of Love”
Hartgrove uses trees to explain in chapter four. His analogy rings true, especially for those living where I do. Last year’s hurricane season wreaked havoc. Ask those who live where I moved in April. The community lost over a third of its trees. Why? Their roots couldn’t withstand the winds.
The chapter title, “Roots of Love,” comes from a thought by Benedictine Anselm of Canterbury, a twelfth-century monk who compared a restless monk to a tree. “If he often moves from place to place at his own whim, or remaining in one place is frequently agitated by hatred of it, he never achieves stability with roots of love.”
One temptation in the face of agitation is to flee (more about temptations in part two). Hartgrove challenges us to accept this goes against one reason we were made-to intimately share life with our landscape and its people.
How else can we learn the attention that is needed to really know a community? How else would we ever gain the patience that is required to care for a place over time?
Friday, I chose to go inside Chick-fil-A for lunch rather than hurry through the drivethrough. Not many other customers made the same choice, so the hostess had few people to chat up. She chose me as her customer to get to know. She asked a pretty standard question for non-Floridians, “Did you grow up in Florida?” I have to honestly answer that with a no. But when I say I’ve lived in Florida since 1986 and in this area since 2002, the reply is usually something like, “Well, you might as well have.”
More than once my seeking has tempted me to move on.
More than once, I’m reminded that God is wiser than me. With his wisdom comes stability, and with that stability comes wisdom.
The King is at the Gate
Psalms 24:7-10 CEV (A Psalm by David)
[7] Open the ancient gates, so that the glorious king may come in.[8] Who is this glorious king? He is our Lord, a strong and mighty warrior.
[9] Open the ancient gates, so that the glorious king may come in.
[10] Who is this glorious king? He is our Lord, the All-Powerful!
Suppose the ancient gates are entries to your mind, body, and spirit.
Even though he created you, this king doesn’t do force entry.
Even though your gate would yield to his command, this king knocks and waits for your reply.
It’s a common thought for those engaging him for the first time that it has to happen in a formal setting-church, monastery, temple, retreat center, for example. The psalmist declares, “Not so.” The gate controls are yours anytime of the day no matter your location.
This king waits to receive access to you, to be with you, all of you. And maybe unbeknownst to you, you’ve been waiting for him, too.
Opening your gate to this king makes room for connection you’ve been waiting for.
Opening your gate to this king makes preparation for healing you’ve been waiting for.
Opening your gate to this king makes room for communion you’ve been waiting for.
Opening your gate to this king makes it possible you exit the gate together.
What you’ve been waiting for may just be waiting for you on the other side of your gate. But it’s not actually a what. It’s a who.
Open Your Gates!
Photo by Dave McDermott on Unsplash
Seen Too Much
You’ve seen too much to do nothing
In the beauty
In the brutal
In the church
In the margins
In friend’s lives
In families
In the loving
In the hurting
In the calling
In the yelling
In the blessing
In the cursing
In the welcoming
In the dismissing
In the running
In the crawling
In the dying
In the living
You’ve seen too much to do nothing
(For deeper understanding, view this message by Pastor Matt Cote)
Keep Looking
Father
I looked for you today
In the drizzling rain
In the psalmist’s lyrics
In a believer’s curiosity
In a mourner’s heartbreak
Son
I looked for you today
In a partner’s forgiveness
In an artist’s healing
In a woman’s pain
In a dreamer’s frustration
Spirit
I looked for you today
In a grandpa’s tears
In a friend’s question
In a pastor’s story
In a buyer’s decision
There you were
Everywhere saying, “Keep Looking”
Photo by Erik Mclean on Unsplash
Journaling For Beginners, Part 3: Three Imagining Questions
In the last week, I heard another pre-determined set of questions that take a different approach to reflective journaling. They came from chapter three, “Hello To the Imagination,” in Padraig O Tauma’s In the Shelter.
- How would you describe today?
- Have you seen anything interesting on the way?
- Is it working?
What I like about this set of questions is their openness. They create reflection that is deeper and broader, not solely focused on what happened after the alarm sounded.
Asking yourself to think about what you saw interesting is a different way of remembering. It’s not asking you to judge. Basically, what caught your attention, what made you curious. Feels like neuroplasticity in action.
Yes, the vagueness of “it” in question three is intentional. You get to decide what “it” is. You might need more than a page for that one occasionally.
Personally, I don’t see myself using this set of questions regularly. But they make a great tool, one I’ve chosen to add to the box.
Photo by Ahmet Yüksek ✪ on Unsplash
John Gregory 