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