Remembering

The news that Osama bin Laden had been killed flashed me back to September 11, 2001 and the hallway leading to a seminary classroom as well as the shock we all felt at the news of the attacks that day. I can only imagine how much more painful this news has been for those who lost loved ones that day or who continue to suffer from the after effects of  their efforts to help with rescue and cleanup. My heart is filled with sadness at the thought of so much grief and pain from the evil that caused it. I have no room in my heart for rejoicing at this man's death, which does nothing to erase the results of his evil. I pray his death will bring a sense of relief and closure to those who grieve and perhaps lessen the violence in this world somehow. But I am appalled at those who have danced in the streets with joy at this news. Their actions are too sharp a reminder of those across the world who also danced at the news of our tragedy here that awful day. Such jubilation only serves to stoke the flames of hatred and violence. Better to respond with prayer and a somber spirit that remembers all that has been lost.

Grace and peace,
Donna Sue

Heart song

I have been wearing a heart monitor again and will be glad to turn it in at the end of the week. This is the second time the cardiologist has asked me to do this. It requires me to pay close attention to my heart rate and to push a button to record any irregularities I sense. For most of my life I did not pay much attention at all to my heart. I expected it to keep beating and it did. Now at times its steady beat has a jazz rhythm, mostly an annoyance, but the doctors want me to pay closer attention these days. I am grateful that my heart seems to be in excellent condition otherwise. I keep up the exercise routine as my contribution to its ongoing health, and I thank God each new morning when I wake up to another day. Both seem to be blessings rather than something about which I should complain. The cardiologist says some of his patients have lived well into their 80s with this type of problem, so I'm focusing on that and trying not to worry too much about the day to day changes. I have become more attuned to my heart's song, and grateful that it keeps singing. God is good and will walk with me on this journey whatever my heart's condition. I am thankful for that knowledge.

Grace and Peace,
Donna Sue

Coincidence or something else

Somehow I don't think it was a coincidence that he came into the church when I was standing behind the food serving line. Tentative, but hungry enough to open the door and venture inside, he said Martha's Kitchen, the local homeless shelter a few blocks away, had sent him when he arrived there after dinner. We were serving pancakes for a choir fund raiser that Shrove Tuesday night. I hesitated for only a second before saying, "Have a plate!" Fund raising could wait. We are a church after all. When I looked up a few minutes later,  I saw him sitting by himself. His faded clothes and nervous manner set him apart from the rest of the familiar, festive crowd. I left the the food service to others, grabbed a cup of coffee and went to sit across from him. In retrospect, I think the conversation may have been as important to him as the food. I learned he had been in the Navy, where he worked as a cook, serving thousands of meals on a ship. He said when he was in high school, college and the Navy, he never suspected he would end up homeless. He also told me his mom had died very recently. I discovered he knew a lot about the Bible. He talked about Abraham's demonstration of his faith when he was willing to offer up his son as a sacrifice, something we had just discussed in the Sunday school class I had been teaching on the Epistle of James. He said our country had its problems, but was better off than the ones he'd seen during his Navy time. He declined more food, saying, "I cannot eat much at a time anymore." When he rose to leave, I told him to come back, and he smiled. He offered me his hand, and on impulse, I gave him a hug. He hugged me back fiercely--the best hug I've had in some time--and in the process blessed me more than anything I had done for him. I think Jesus came to our church on Shrove Tuesday, and I almost missed his visit. I'm glad I was paying attention for once. I worry about the times I am not so attentive and miss God's presence.

Grace and Peace,
Donna Sue

Heaven Country

I have been working on learning more Chinese characters using my Chinese-English Bible for morning devotions. At times I am rewarded with unique insights from a different perspective. This past week, I discovered that the characters used for the kingdom of God are the characters for heaven and country. I decided I really liked the idea of "heaven country." It sounds more accessible to me somehow, like a place I can visit from time to time rather than a more ephemeral idea I sometimes have trouble grasping. I think I visited heaven country this past week during our annual Gospel Jazz Service on the last Sunday before Lent. We had a jazz band with us again to provide lively music that had people dancing. It was a joyful time. Our pastor talked in her sermon about the origins of jazz in the African American church in worship services where slaves and their descendants were able for a time to express both their anguish and their joy in God's presence. She said that jazz had spread from the church to the world and is now returning to its roots in the church in services such as ours. Perhaps that history of gospel jazz music is why the music in this annual service regularly moves me to tears of joy. Maybe it's because I sense God's presence in the music itself. My heart is still dancing as I remember the music and the jazz version of Just a Closer Walk with Thee I got to sing with our choir. What a blessing to dance before God our creator in preparation for entering the somber season of Lent once again.

Grace and Peace,
Donna Sue

Spring in Texas

When I stepped outside to feed Moses and Zipporah this morning, I discovered it was already warm. My days of walking the dogs whenever I feel like it are disappearing once again. Soon it will be too hot for such an adventure unless we go soon after breakfast. I will miss being able to walk whenever I feel like it. The air this morning was pregnant with the promise of new life. I heard a lawn mower going at a neighbor's house. Only a few have any grass at present, but I could smell the new mown grass. The mocking birds were challenging each other in the trees at one house and other birds seemed suddenly to be all around me. Soon, the trees out back will begin to leaf out again, and we will lose the view of the small lake in the distance. Each year, my husband says he plans on chopping down some of the trees that block the view in the summer, but as the windows along the back face west and the afternoon sun, I am content to have a winter view and a summer view that shades us from the worst of the Texas heat. One thing I have learned in thirty years of living here is to look for spring and savor it when it comes. Blink, and I will miss it's swift passage. All too soon the sun will be blazing each day, and I will be complaining about the 100 degree heat of the Texas summer. But for now, I am grateful for the spring breeze and the birdsong and the scent of fresh mown grass as the earth wakes from its slumber and all seems possible in the spring sunshine.

Grace and Peace,
Donna Sue

In the company of poets

I am home again and missing the music of the beautiful language I heard this weekend among the poets and other writers at an annual writers' festival I have attended for five years. It is always a blessing to be among people who see life honestly and with the wonder and innocence I so value in children. Too many of us seem to lose that ability when we become adults. But good poets see the world through different lenses. The really good ones are able to share that vision with the rest of us. I find I see God's world with fresh eyes myself after being among these good friends again, and I am enabled to return to my own writing efforts renewed and reminded of the importance of this work to which God has called me. So thanks, Anne and Alan and Brady and Chris. And Paul, who came to teach us.

Grace and Peace,
Donna Sue

Contrite and Humble

I read in the book of Isaiah this morning that God, who is high and Holy, inhabits eternity and yet dwells with "those who are contrite and humble in spirit." Isaiah 57:15. The point of dwelling with the contrite and humble is to revive their hearts and spirits. I work at being contrite and try to be humble, but I'm not sure how well I do at either of those tasks most of the time. I have spent the last week in the company of pastors and other theologians, some old friends and some new ones. I am feeling generally contrite at present, for I have realized how much I have pushed God aside in the business of my life and then wondered why I was feeling burnt out and soul weary. I guess I am also feeling more humble as God has reminded me yet again that I cannot do it all myself, by myself, and more importantly that I do not have to. How often I have learned and forgotten that lesson. So I am trying once again to remind myself that I need God in daily doses to keep my soul happy and healthy and that I am not nearly as important as my frenetic activity would lead me to believe. Except to God and to those who know and love me for who I am, not for what I do. For that I am most grateful.

Grace and Peace,
Donna Sue