Once and Always

This is a wonderful day. I've never seen this one before. ~Maya Angelou

Novelty is dependent on the perspective of the viewer. One can look out the same window everyday for a lifetime and see either an unchanging view or an unfolding story. 

So how do you find the right mindset? By zooming out, you can observe the great shapes that define a space. The general landscape, the ups and downs, the lights and darks. This dualism of one extreme or the other is how we sense our boundaries and experience our limits. 

But if we live only in the dark and light realm of vision, we will become bored, rigid, too hardened. We won't recognize the subtle nuance that softens an edge and shadows a corner.

In the middle are thousands, millions, billions of shades. One is not hard or soft, dark or light...but both.

This is a zooming in, where the form becomes unrecognizable from the texture that infuses it. The colors blend and bend and fuse to shades and hues unnamed. Here, in the minutia we learn that we are not one or the other but all and whole and one. 

This is a wonderful place. This is a wonderful life. This is a wonderful day. 

I have seen it many times and never. Let me bask in its beauty once and always.

Amen.

Lingering Compassion

Your acts of kindness are iridescent wings of divine love, which linger and continue to uplift others long after your sharing. ~Rumi

The Anointing at Bethany begins the Lectionary reading for Palm Sunday. It's a small story at the beginning of a very long Gospel. While I remember well the telling of Jesus' Passion and Death, I mostly recall this first scene as flickers of song from an Andrew Lloyd Weber musical. 

Today, I notice the woman, her alabaster jar, and a costly spikenard perfume. 

This woman, some consider Mary Magdalene, others Lazarus' sister, performed a ritual act. With precious oil she anointed Jesus' head and feet, defining her love and devotion. But the results of this act likely lingered far longer.

Still used today, spikenard is the root of an Indian plant that grows primarily in the Himalayan mountains. The oil derived from its root has been used for medicine, incense, and perfume. It has a long history of being highly valued. Spikenard was an expensive oil. The cost for the anointing described in this passage would be equivalent to around $12,000 today. A generous offering indeed. 

But there is something even more interesting about this oil and its mention here. Spikenard has a strong scent. It clings to the skin and hair continuing to give its aroma long after it has been applied. Jesus tells his disciples that this woman has done a good thing for him. 

She has done what she could do. She has anticipated anointing my body for burial         ~Mark 14:8

The oil the woman used to anoint his head and feet would have lingered on Christ's skin for the next several days. As Jesus was arrested, as he was beaten, as he was crucified, and as he died, wisps of compassion from this moment would have overcome him. Each turn of his head, each fall to the ground a memory. A drop of balm for every step. A reminder he was loved, a comfort he was not alone.  

For us, perhaps a lesson. Share with abandon. Offer mercy, comfort, compassion, concern. Don't tally the costs. Do what you can do. Anticipate the needs of another. 

Our actions linger, often in ways we could not know and will never fully understand.  

Notice

Blessed are they who see beautiful things in humble places where other people see nothing. ~Camille
Pissaro

Tomorrow is Palm Sunday, the start of Holy Week. During these days, we walk with Jesus through the final moments of his life on earth. Each year, I try to find new and different ways to approach this time. 

It occurred to me that this will be our second journey through a Holy Week in this pandemic. Last year we had just taken our first steps. This year we are miles beyond with still a distance to go. So what would I have wanted to tell the me of 2020 on the day before Palm Sunday? What wisdom from this year would I give? 

My advice would be simple...notice. 

In the aftermath of big life events, whether tragic or joyful, I believe we share a nearly universal response--I wish I had paid attention. I wish I had noticed all that was happening around me. 

For this Holy Week, I invite you to notice.

Key in on a word or phrase in Scripture that has never struck you before. Slow your steps and recognize the particular color of the sky or the smell of the budding trees. Listen for the emotion in a friend's voice. Feel the texture of a loved one's hand. Savor the taste of your daily meals. Rest in the quiet of morning before dawn.

In whatever way this word speaks to you in your life this week, notice. 

 

Enough

I praise you, because I am wonderfully made; wonderful are your works! ~Psalm 139:14

I am enough.

Some very wise friends of mine have made this their mantra. If you knew them, you might be surprised that they would need to say these words aloud. To mark the phrase as a real and present reminder. Why? Because these friends are amazing. And yet, they still need to be reminded that they are enough.

I don't think they are unique in this need. In fact, I imagine that many of us suffer from a kind of imposter syndrome. We struggle in our work, our relationships, our own private thoughts to believe that who we are is enough. 

Perhaps this is a by-product of our consumer culture. Maybe it's some deeply planted seed that stems from generations of thought. It could be social pressures or family trauma. Perhaps it's all of these and none of these at the same time. 

What we have decided, my friends and I, is that we may not be able to root out the cause but we can most definitely influence the effect. 

We build each other up. We give witness to one another's pain and we celebrate one another's joy. We don't try to solve problems as much as honor that the burden exists. Mostly, we remind one another, again and again, that each of us is enough.

If you need to hear it today, let me be that friend for you.

You. Are. Enough.

Courage to Be Kind

I recently read an article that focused on kindness in the business world. The journalist noted that, "In the corporate world, 'kindness' is generally not a prized soft skill."* 

This struck me. 

It's interesting, in a sad kind of way, that kindness has to be singled out as a skill. Even more upsetting is that it's a skill not commonly valued. I'm aware of the well-known adages about nice people finishing last and the need to be ruthless to get ahead. Still it baffles me that a behavior taught and rewarded in Kindergarten is not prized past the age of 25. While the article did focus on the benefits kindness can bring to the workplace, the tag line read, "Take the counterintuitive approach to business success."

This got me thinking about the power of kindness. In recent years, a kindness movement has swept around the world. Nonprofits provide free educational materials on kindness, while researchers and doctors study its effects on our mood and overall health. The results show that being kind makes us happier, decreases our blood pressure, lowers cortisol and increases our self-esteem, empathy, and compassion. 

Kindess isn't a soft skill, it's a super power!

I believe being kind has been minimized because it's often considered weak. On the contrary, being kind takes courage. Kindness involves being vulnerable. Being kind means leaving the safety and security of self to seek a genuine connection with someone else. It leaves us open to misunderstanding and rejection. 

But our bravery comes with a reward of its own. Kindness is contagious. Scientists note that kindness creates a kind of ripple effect spreading outward. Our small gesture may impact others far removed in ways we will never fully know. 

Not bad for a soft skill not generally prized. Seems to me it deserves a blue ribbon!

In a world where you can be anything...be kind. ~Unknown

*Sabin, Sara. "Kindness can get you ahead." Chicago Tribune. 22 March 2021, Section 2, p.1.

Share Your Story

"Always be ready to give an explanation to anyone who asks you for a reason for your hope, but do it with
gentleness and reverence..." 1 Peter 3:15–16

I love to hear people tell me their stories. What makes them who they are? What experiences brought them to this particular place in time and space? Who are the people in their family? What trials did they encounter? No matter the situation, I have never been bored by another's life story, even when they themselves believed it to be unremarkable.

Every life holds a lesson. Every story, a reason someone held as hope for another day. It is within these moments that we see the hand of God. 

Sometimes faith may seem distant and formal. But God is not found only within the walls of a cathedral or the pages of a holy text. God is written in the hearts and lives of us all. By sharing our stories, we give witness.

Be willing to listen. Recognize the spark in another that moves and catches fire as they share with you their stories. This spark is Spirit. 

Be ready to give reason for your hope. Your moments matter. For another, your story may be the witness of God they so desperately need.

Stories are light. Light is precious in a world so dark." ~Kate DiCamillo, The Tale of Despereaux

Patience for the Journey

"But with their patience worn out by the journey, the people complained against God and Moses..." Numbers 21:4-5

This verse seems written for our present moment. I feel the first few words in every cell of my being. 

My patience is truly worn out by the journey. 

So much is said to be on the cusp of change. News stories predict an end in sight. There are lights in the proverbial tunnels. But I'm still standing on the far end and squinting for that glow. My ability to keep calm in the midst of disappointment, distress, and suffering is understandably wearing thin.

"Waiting and hoping is a hard thing to do when you've already been waiting and hoping for almost as long as you can bear it." ~Jenny Nimmo, Charlie Bone and the Time Twister

Science tells us that patience is modifiable. We can build it like a muscle. Reframing situations to find a different way of seeing things, practicing mindfulness to ground ourselves, and being grateful are exercises to try. 

But in this particular moment, standing empty and worn out, we could benefit by adding the spiritual aspect of patience to the equation. 

Patience is one of the fruits of the Holy Spirit. It's a visible act, an observable behavior that results from allowing the grace of Spirit to be effective in us. In other words, we aren't in this patience thing alone.  

Waiting with grace enables us to live in this world and still have hope. Spirit makes possible what is impossible on our own. So as we wind through what we hope will be the final days of this pandemic journey, consider asking yourself:

• What seems impossible today?
• What am I telling myself about this situation?
• How could I see this struggle differently? Can I reframe it? 
• What am I grateful for that this experience has brought to my life? 
• Are there signs that Spirit is working through me, giving me the grace to wait? 
• How am I asking Spirit for help? Am I open to the change that comes from my request? 

I hope you choose patience. Even when you are overwhelmed by unknowns. When someone cannot give you answers, when you begin to wonder why you're here, when you simply want to give up: be patient. ~Kirsten Robinson, Evergreen