Posts Tagged ‘precious

10
Apr
18

Beloved

Seize the day imageIt happened again.

Sunday morning… there we all were; about 10 minutes before the worship service was scheduled to begin.

I walked in, set my stuff down, and made my way back down the brown-carpeted center aisle – exchanging pleasantries and greetings with some of the early arrivers (which, in this church, is virtually the entire congregation).

There they were, in their customary places… fifth pew from the front, west side, side-by-side on the aisle.

“How are you ladies today?” I asked.

“Oh, you know,” she said, offering a wry smile. “Same as ever.”

“Do you think it’s really going to snow like they said it was?”

Shhhh!” Her sister said in mock horror. “Don’t say it out loud or it will happen!”

And then, at 9:30 p.m. the call came. It had been a massive stroke at 3:30 that afternoon. She and her sister were chatting and doing their respective things… she was playing with the cats… when suddenly…

An ambulance and then a helicopter got her in front of the very best stroke specialists around. But they conferred and agreed; it was too late. The damage was severe and irreparable.

No eye was dry as we gathered around her bed and watched the life support systems being turned off and withdrawn.

Tears were shed. Long hugs were exchanged. Prayers were said. Comfort was offered. Her forehead was anointed with oil.

In the stunned silence of the drive home from the hospital, I kept saying the same thing to myself… over and over again.

“But… I JUST TALKED TO HER!”

As if death has no right to be sudden and unannounced.

As if I was due some kind of advance notice so that I might adequately prepare myself.

Once again I was reminded… as I have been reminded on numerous occasions in the past, and yet somehow, continue to forget and need to be re-reminded of… life is an incredibly fleeting and precious thing.

In one instant here… brimming over with laughter or tears or snow flurries or sunlight or loving friends or annoying neighbors or mismatched socks or ragged sweatshirts or cake or barbeque or squealing, frisky grandchildren…

… and the next instant, gone.

And so I stare into the mirror and ask the guy staring back,“How dare you take any moment of your life for granted? How dare you treat your life as anything less than a gift and a miracle? SHAME ON YOU for failing to squeeze every drop of meaning from even the tiniest moment!”

All of that is true. And yet I know, as sure as I am sitting here typing these words right now, that the lure of amnesia is powerful. As this day begins its unfolding, I will most certainly forget the lesson of that late night call. I will lapse into banality and routine, smudging the beauty of my NOW with a yawn or a gripe.

And so I pray; Holy, God… as you surely now receive your beloved daughter into your arms and welcome her into her eternal home, comfort all who love her. Breathe the breath of your holy, healing Spirit into each broken heart.

And by that same Holy Spirit, please, God, keep me awake. Prod me – gently or violently – whenever I threaten to doze off.

Thank you.

AMEN.

14
Feb
18

“This is not a test…”

hawaii-missile-alertSometimes it takes a nuclear missile attack warning – in this case, fortunately, issued in error.

Sometimes it takes the firm hand and raised voice of a **loving** spouse that keeps you from stepping absentmindedly into traffic.

Sometimes it takes the grave look and furrowed brow of the family physician.

Sometimes it takes nothing more than a kind of “dumb luck” that makes us pause before entering the intersection where a knucklehead just ran a red light.

Sometimes though, on a day like today, it requires a smudge of black ash on the forehead and the solemnly intoned phrase, “Dust to dust,” to remind us of the utter fragility of life.

Every day life is fragile.

Every day life is precious.

Every day you and I are unstoppably mortal… only a breath or two away from eternity.

ash wednesdayBut today – Ash Wednesday – we are invited to celebrate and give thanks – not just for these fragile lives of ours but for the fragility itself.

Praise God from whom all mortality flows!

Praise God all creatures here below.

06
Nov
17

Stunned and speechless

man-crying-facebook“Stunned and speechless” seems to be my default state every time I turn on the news these days.

Just when I think it can’t get worse, somehow it does.

My capacity for outrage is sorely tested every time one person does violence to another… for whatever deranged reason.

I had been struggling to process the avalanche of revelations of sexual assault and harassment in the entertainment and news media recently when suddenly, out of the blue, a young man walked into a small-town church and shot 46 people, killing 26 of them.

“Stunned and speechless” yet again.

As I mulled over all of these “gut punch” events, I began to see a tragic connection between them. Whether the perpetrator is sexually exploiting people or killing them with a gun, each heinous act seems to grow from the same seed: the utter devaluation of the lives of others.

I have no idea what it will take to make it happen, but until we come to see every human life as God sees them: as precious, unique, beloved, and infinitely wonderful, we will probably continue to be stunned and speechless on a regular basis.

“As a father has compassion for his children,
so the Lord has compassion for those who fear him.
For he knows how we were made;
he remembers that we are dust.”

  • Psalm 103:13-14, NRSV



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