On the Last Day of the Year

The gift of life was not given to us lightly. Only a few days ago I told a group of people that every day was important. And I told them that what we did in those God-given days was important as well. And so...today is the very last day of the year. I worked, I shopped, I worked some more. I drank coffee, ate supper, walked the dog, and thought about all I have to do between now and Sunday afternoon. Perhaps I didn't do anything important, still, I wanted to some how pay attention to this day, to be IN the day, to be present to my surroundings - and how I felt about and lived in this day. And because every day is important, and for some reason the very last day of 2014 seemed important to me, I also did these things: I noticed that even on New Year's Eve people shop at WalMart. I noticed that most of those shoppers (like me) didn't seem to have any particular plans for the 'big night.' They were in blue jeans and t-shirts, corralling over-excited children, buying -not oysters or little rye breads, but milk and pop-tarts and light bulbs. I noticed that the person in front of me at WalMart didn't have enough money to pay her bill and had to leave some things at the check-out counter. I noticed that the person in front of me at the Dollar Store didn't have enough money to pay her bill either, and was searching for change in pockets and purse, in her coat and even asked the person behind her for a few more coins. I noticed a tired looking mom sitting in a car that wouldn't start, and a beat up ol' pick up truck trying without luck to jump her battery. I noticed that all of sudden people look tired, and unkempt, a little gray and worn about the edges,overworked and somewhat at a loss as to how they will make the bills. I noticed that despite these things, the sun came out into a cold blue sky and on the other side of the road the moon - about a 3/4 moon - appeared extra bright -again in a cold blue late afternoon sky. And oh yes, I definitely noticed that it was a cold day - quite a cold day. I noticed I was in a pretty good mood - even with a miserable cold - and even though I am spending this New Year's Eve night quietly alone. I noticed that even though I have much to do in the next 5 days - I obstinately and decidedly - took breaks. And even so I think I will be able to get it all done and right on time. I noticed today.

Yes we are all very different. Different life experiences, and oh yes - waaay different opinions - but here we are in church together. Worshiping, communing with Christ, hands of every shape and size and (sometimes) color passing the trays of bread and juice,laughing during fellowship, sharing our dishes of food, studying a book and THE book over morning coffee and an evening meal, caring for members, looking to a future, remembering our losses, and trusting that God is walking with us on this journey. This congregation has so much for which to be grateful. Looking around our sanctuary; our Picnics in the Park, our quiet conversations, and at our meetings - this is a church with a future. All we need to do now is get out of our own way...

Just the other day...

Just the other day I hugged a homeless person. He was thanking me for the 2-night hotel stay and the meal I brought him and his son and the WalMart gift card I handed him so he could buy more food - or maybe toothpaste, or a Milky Way bar, or a magazine for his adult son with cerebral palsy. Stooped over in pain, leaning heavily on his silver aluminum cane, recently released from the hospital, sweat pouring down his face - I encouraged him to get back to the hospital. He had no way to get there, was worried about paying the ambulance bill, couldn't leave his son, didn't want to leave the hotel room that was provided him. And so he decided he would wait; decided he would figure something out; decided it would all work out alright. He told me he believed in God - really he did - just that life right now was so that he couldn't get to church. He told me that he slept with his Bible under his pillow. He thanked me again for helping and apologized again for being any trouble...he was even thoughtful enough to tell me he liked the sandals I was wearing. Seeing how he was so bent over in pain and embarrassed at his circumstances so that he only occasionally looked me in the eye - instead and mostly looking down at the floor - I guess my sandals were about all that was in his line of vision for the majority of the 20 minutes I stood at his hotel door and talked with him. I don't know how 'Mike' and his son will manage once the hotel room is no longer paid for by the church. When I asked him what he was going to do he answered, "I guess we'll just pack up and go outside, my son can't walk very far. But," he said, "I can't let that happen, somehow I've got to get back on my feet, somehow I've got to be here for my boy, somehow it's all gonna work out." Mike is not the first, nor will he be the last of the homeless who call this church and thousands of other churches across the country for help. Pastors and the churches they serve sometimes get 'taken' for a few bucks by the ones who know how to work the system. For that I say, we give in good faith; we give because that's what Jesus wanted us to do; we give because we have a little bit extra to share; we give never expecting the homeless or the transient to show up at church next Sunday all shiny and clean and ready to join up; we do it because human suffering is difficult to bear; we do it because human being to human being it's the right thing to do; we do it because what we do to the least of these, we do to Christ. Sometimes I worry because circumstances have handed me more than a few bills - more than a few that my paycheck won't quite cover. Sometimes I get jealous because I know a lot of people who have managed better than me; been luckier than me; been less stupid than me. Sometimes I get filled with regret for wasted words and days and years. Sometimes I get sorry for the mistakes and the errors in judgment I have made along the way. And then there are sometimes when I am filled with joy at the sound of birds and the running of a chipmunk and the smell of the freshly mowed grass. Sometimes I am so grateful for my great parents, my great kid, my run of good health, a few good friends, a few good vacations. Sometimes when I am in the church I serve, or sitting in the pews of another sanctuary being fed by hymns and choirs and this thing called community - at those times there is this bubbling up inside of me of something that feels like contentment. And I wonder then about them: the man who sleeps in the weeds close to the interstate, the family who lives in their car down by the river, the mom who works 2 jobs but still can't put together enough for a rental deposit, and...Mike and his son whose name I don't know. When it was time for me to get back home Mike asked for a hug - which I gladly gave him - and as I walked down the hall toward the exit, he yelled out, "Thank you. God Bless You." Like I said, just the other day I hugged a homeless person.