I've been thinking quite a lot about the end of the world. It all started with this show I saw on the History channel. According to the show, it's almost a sure bet that the world is going to end on December 21, 2012. I've been thinking about that.

So, is that true? Well, the show did offer some scientific stuff to make its point. And it was on Tee Vee, after all.

I think the better question is, if it is true, then how does that change the way I live today? Obviously I don't want to get 40 or 50 years down the line and say, "Oh, dern, I should've planned for my old age." But, neither do I want to live every moment for some future time that may never come.

I am not so sure that it's true what Jesus said, that no man knows the day or the hour. I think maybe the Mayans, and those old Chinese guys, did figure something out. I think the point Jesus was making is that it's better -- far, far, better -- to live as much in the present moment as possible. That, after all, is where he is.

So what do you suppose will be so noteworthy that I break my long blog silence to comment on it?

An award, of course.

Thank you beautiful Eileen for stroking my ego and giving me something to blog about.

The award is basically meaningless, of course. There's no accompanying cash prize or anything. I can't even hold it in my hands and admire my reflection in it's shiny gold finish. But, I love it just the same. Something about being known and recognized delights the heart. It's palpable. Can't be ignored.

The blog world mystifies and fascinates me. I've never met any of you. Well, maybe a few. Yet I cry when your kitties die, I think of you when you are traveling, pray over you. I am in love with some of your dogs. And in these weeks when my own life has been discombublated and my internet access sketchy I've tried to convince myself that it didn't really matter. I got all my "real" work done, after all. At the end of the day, though, I'd wonder about you. And I missed you. Because you are real.

So, thanks Eileen for the Kick Ass Award. I've kicked more s*** than I care to recall and somehow, I'm still here. Thanks be to God, and a couple others.

I am granting the award to JohnieB because I loved his post about war and because I have a feeling he's a great soul.

I am also giving it to Doxy for her searing post on AIDS. This made me love you Doxy.

And I am giving it to Grendel who has posted some of the best dog writing on the whole internets. And I am also giving Grendel some virtual gravy. Check out "I Can Haz Psalms." It's beautiful.

I think I'll also give it to Kristen because she's been kicking cancer's ass.

And I'll give it to Elizabeth Kaeton just because. Just because I often find myself hoping she's posted on a subject because I want to know what she thinks about it. She's a sharpie, that Kaeton woman.

And I want to give it to one more person too. My fellow Texan and pal Barbi Click. Because she deserves an award.

You ALL kick ass.

So, here's the rules... you know there's got to be rules else chaos would reign. And we can't have that.

• Choose 5 bloggers that you feel are "Kick Ass Bloggers"
• Let 'em know in your post or via email, twitter or blog comments that they've received an award
• Share the love and link back to both the person who awarded you and back to www.mammadawg.com
• Hop on back to the Kick Ass Blogger Club HQ to sign Mr. Linky then pass it on!

I copied and pasted these rules directly from the official Kickin' Ass site so you know they are the real thing. That said, play if you want and use the rules as best suits you.

Love to all,

Lindy

Out Of Pocket Again

Dear Blog Friends,

I'll be out of pocket for another week or so. South Texas, then Mexico, then another town in Texas and finally home for awhile.

Please pray for me that I may have safe and uneventful travels, that I may always find myself where I am supposed to be, and that I will see the face of Christ in all I meet. And know that I remember you in my prayers as well.

Peace,

Lindy

Just Catching Up

I got moved last week. All my stuff is here and everything is in its place. I've gotten rid of a lot of things and feel good about that. Less is more, you know. For someone who claims that this Earth is not my home, I often collect worldly goods as if I planned to live here forever.

My little dog has settled in nicely and is enjoying the new found independence of having a doggie door. There are a lot of squirrels here which need his attention.

My car is in it's other home right now... that is, the repair shop. This has not been such a big deal.

I have lost my regualr schedule. Temporarily, of course. But, it seems like a long time since I've seen my books and sat at my desk just to see what thoughts are there, waiting for me to be still long enough to think them. A whole week of discombublation is too much for me. It's boring, I know. But I am a person of habit.

I went to a cook-out at my brother's last night. There is a wedding shower for him today. I guess because he needs things? Believe me when I tell you that he needs no worldly goods. But there is a shower anyway. I can't help but wonder why he isn't having people give money to the MGDs or something. The accumulation is just appalling. But, I am here among my bio-family and that's what they do. Accumulate. More. Better. Latest. Different color.

And then there's me. My family think of me as the poor one. Poor Linda. So given to moderation. So different.

Well, pitty me not dear blog friends. I am happy, even if a little bit out of my element.

I nicked this cool map of the US from our fellow tribe member Ann. You can make your own by clicking on the link. It shows all the places I've been, and where all I have left to go.


visited 37 states (74%)
Create your own visited map of The United States or determine the next president

Have a fun weekend.

Your pal,

Lindy

Yes...This Is What I Intended To Say

In my overly-wordy July 8 post what I intended to say is this:

"O Allah! If I worship You for fear of Hell, burn me in Hell, and if I worship You in hope of Paradise, exclude me from Paradise.But if I worship You for Your Own sake,grudge me not Your everlasting Beauty.”

Rabia al Basri

h/t to AKHF, which I just realized are the exact same initials of someone else who was quoted on my blog today. Curious...

I seem to have run all out of deep thoughts lately. Not to worry. It is time for me to concentrate on some other things. I am moving this week and that takes all my time. I started a new medication which just knocked me out. And, of course, when I am busiest is when everyone wants my attention.

Today I am feeling alive again which is good since I have lots to do. I mean, seriously. LOTS.

Most of my books are packed away but I do have Streams of Mercy* by our own tribe member, Ann. I am going to share my very favorite meditation from that with you today. It's for Week Five of Epiphany, Monday. And the text is Hebrews 13:1-16.

Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.

And here 's what Ann says about it:

Sharing a table at Starbucks
Strangers chatting
on our separate ways
Later the barista sweeps
upthe feathers along with the
crumpled napkins.

I love this because it speaks directly to my own blindness. Even at a place as common as Starbucks I might encounter the holy. But, do I see? Or do I grab my steamer and go? How often I get so busy yacking away that I forget that it's the handiwork of God sitting across from me, behind the counter, spilling a little mocha, leaving trash on the table. Yes, all of those.

This makes me want to slow down, look through the trash to see who is there, what beauty I missed.

I'll be off-line for a week or so. While I am gone, look for beauty in unexpected places!

You can get Ann's book from AuthorHouse or at Amazon. You can read more from the book at both sites.

*Fontaine, Ann Kristin Haldors. Streams of Mercy. AuthorHouse, 2005.


PS - I'll have a new email address, as well as a new physical address. If you feel you need that information, just leave a comment or email me at the old address in the next couple of days... well, today or tomorrow! and I'll get it right to you. I am not inclined to post it for all the world to see but I won't deny the rest of you.

Heaven Would Be A Nice Bonus

I've been working with some people I just met. They know me better than I know them and one of the things they know is that I am religious. Probably they think I am some kind of protestant.

So one of them has been hanging around quite lot proclaiming to any who will listen that Jesus came and died so that we can all go to Heaven some day. He is just trying (in vain) to get my attention. I have been listening though.

Jesus came to Earth, he lived and died, so we can go to Heaven. That's what I am hearing. I've heard it a lot so I'm not confused. There's a quid pro quo: Jesus died = we go to Heaven. At least those of us who "accept Jesus" go to heaven. The others... well, good luck to them, eh? In any event I have not been overly amused.

I thought about it while I was out driving around this afternoon. My back in the driveway thought is that until you are willing to spend an eternity in Hell for love of your Lord, you haven't experienced Salvation at all.

Salvation.... I want to talk about that. Because it's not just salvation from Hell, not even salvation from karma. If I am not saved, healed from, and delivered out of the whole violent system then I want out. Salvation makes me indifferent to whether I am in Heaven or Hell as long as my Lord is pleased.

Remember the story I told you about Radha? She laughed at the other women who were worried that she would go to Hell. "How silly of you," she said. "If I am able to bring even a moments comfort to my Lord I would gladly spend eternity in Hell."

John Chrysostome did sort of go to Hell. He was roasted alive. And he wasn't the only one either. Lots of our brothers and sisters were burned, roasted, boiled, and worse for the sake of their faith.

There is a burning away of sin and self that happens to each of us too, if we can stand it. I don't know that it's Hell, per se. But, it's not Heaven either. Are we willing to bear it though for shear obedience, for nothing but love?

I sometimes wish it were so easy as accepting a free ticket to Disney-Heaven where I'll live forever in a kind of amusement park of eternal delights, you know, because I bought the right ticket. It's not like that though.

I am not sure I have a take-away on all that. I just hope that later, when I head back to my study and I sit quietly, waiting, that it will be for love, for sharing presence, for being. If I get to Heaven, well, that'll be a nice bonus.

Why I Love My Country

Of course, there are lots of reasons not to love America these days. You don’t need me to review it for you. It’s not pretty. That’s all I’ll say.

But, I do love this country. My love is less to do with what America is today, or even the ideals of liberty on which it was founded. I love my country simply because it is my home.

My antecedents came here in the hope of a new and better life, unlimited by scarcity of land and diminishing opportunity. Oh, and one was running from a murder rap, and one was escaping the draft. But, despite their selfish motivations it was America that held hope for them, and it was in America that they were able to build new lives.

Only here, in my home, can I walk the pasture lands that grazed my great-grandfather’s sheep. It’s only here that I can put my own hands on the stones he laid for his family’s home, corral. Both still standing and still in use.

I can drive past the place where my grandfather first saw my grandmother. “She was the prettiest thing I ever did see,“ he once told me. And I thought I saw a tiny little tear in his eye but it could have been the sun. The house where he grew up is still standing. Barely.

I can still talk to people who went to elementary school with my grandparents and tell me stories of their childhood antics. I’ve learned, for example, that Aunt Toadie (actually Thelma) got her nickname because of my grandfather throwing frogs on her. She used to run around the house screaming, “Oh Albert… stoooooop.” And my granddaddy would switch directions and wait just around the corner from her and then throw another frog on her. They both grew up to be unbelievably respectable, community leaders and all. But, I have this one precious story to remind me that they were fully human too.

I can’t do any of those things anywhere else. Even the coolest, greenest, best educated countries can’t give me what I find right here at home, my own history.

What I need, what I’ve searched for all my life, is a sense of belonging and being connected to something. As a young woman I ran away from Texas just as fast as I could, certain that there was nothing here that was good for me. And at the time it was a good decision so no recriminations on that. It would’ve been bad if I’d stayed. But, I have been surprised to find that the demons I came back here to bury have led me to sources of the very thing I’ve been looking for all along. The silver lining is growing even as the thunder clouds recede. I am connected to the dusty hills of West Texas and the old families who dared to make it their home. I am not just floating, without ties to anything. There is a place where I belong. My home. The good and the bad. America.

An explanation and apology

Dear Blog Friends,

I am sorry that I've not been in touch with you. Several weeks ago I thought I was starting a project that would take a week to ten days. I didn't think you'd even notice I was gone.

Turns out that this is more demanding than I'd realized and taking longer too. I wish I'd written to you sooner to let you know that I would be out of pocket. The time has slipped up on me though. A month has passed already.

I am still here, still fruity, and hale and hearty. Rowan is well too.

Please forgive me for ignoring you. As I've continued to pray for you and think about you this last month I realize that you really are more than "virtual" friends to me. You're real, after all. And my affection for you is real too. I know that some of you have been concerned for me, and I am sorry for causing you to worry.

I really find my lack of consideration in this matter pretty appalling. But, as you already know if you're a blog friend, I am prone to sin and screw-ups like the rest.

I am back in place for a few days. Planning trips to the bank, post office, stylist, and doctor. Just taking care of the things that have lapsed this month. I may not be back to regular blogging for another month or so. But, I will not neglect you in my prayers and I'll be back in the blog world soon.

Love,

Lindy

On an unrelated note...

This is my new favorite picture of Rowan, my little dog. He knows he's supposed to place the ball at my feet but he loves playing tug-o-war with it.

In this picture he's "talking" to me, making the most unusual dog sounds you've ever heard.

Rowan has just posted some new photos on his own blog. It'd make him feel real good if you went right on over and gave them a look-see.

Here's the link.

Things Seen And Unseen

Last night the moon was at less than ten percent, just the thinnest sliver. And black clouds were afoot in the black night and, as if from nowhere, they marched across the face of the moon sometimes making it go away entirely.

Because we are sophisticated and scientifically enlightened people living here in the 21st century, we know that clouds can't make the moon "go away." We further know that the moon was not only ten percent there last night. It's just that we could only see ten percent of it. the whole thing was still there... in darkness.

It's about what you can see... and what you can't.

When we sing or say the Shema we say the first verse at a normal volume, clear and strong:

Sh'ma Yis'ra'eil Adonai Eloheinu Adonai echad.

And the second verse:

Barukh sheim k'vod malkhuto l'olam va'ed.

is almost a whisper. Very, very, quietly...

The reason we do this is to remind us that sometimes we can hear God and sometimes we can't. God is there just the same, speaking just the same. Sometimes we hear, sometimes we don't.

It's about what we can hear... and what we can't.

In the same way, sometimes light shines on the cactus in a way that reveals the thorns...










































And sometimes in a way that reveals the flowers.




But, look closely...Both are present...

The flower and the thorn grow from the same plant, receive their nourishment from the same source, come forth from the same ground.


It's about where the light shines... and where it doesn't.

I've been thinking about how much there is that I don't know, things I don't see at all, even though in a different light, come the morning, or on another day they may be clear.

I once knew a boy, nine or ten I'd say. And he took to meeting me in the courtyard outside my office in the morning times. I told him about the various plants and taught him how to identify several birds by the sound of their call. We talked about the seasons, his family, what he was studying in school. Originally I thought of him as an intrusion. Later, as a friend.

On the second to last day of school he came to the courtyard and we talked about his summer plans and mine. Then he said ten words that pierced my heart, "Thank you for teaching me how to pray this year."

Obviously if I had known that that's what we were doing, if the sun had shown in a different direction or if the clouds had moved and I'd realized that that's what we were doing... learning to pray! Obviously, I would have run screaming from the whole thing. But, it was the second to the last day of school. Too late to run.

I remember rattling off some things that both he and I have forgotten. I told him that prayer takes many forms, that his praying would change over the years and I hoped to Hell that he would be better at it than I am, that he would be more faithful, more honest, braver, truer. And after he left I prayed all that for him knowing what a poor and weak teacher he'd had. ...Also hoping that his agnostic parents didn't find out.

I think that more often than we realize, we are not at all doing what it is we think we are doing. My young friend was kind enough to tell me what I'd done. It wasn't what I'd thought. I thought I was just being kind to a boy who didn't have many adults in his life. I thought I was being a patient administrator. I thought a thousand things... but not that.

I want to have a greater awareness of these hidden things. I don't know how to do it. I am not sure I have that level of sensitivity, if I can be that aware. Sometimes God does have to be awfully blunt with me.

But, I am going to be looking. I am going to listen more closely. I am going to think outside the box to see what might be there. Because I don't want my life to be what it seems, and no more. I want to believe that in all the mundane, boring, insanely stupid things I do all day long there is at least a little bit of God and that He is doing something. Please, God, don't let it all be for nothing.

How Do You See Things?

Living No Longer For Ourselves

Last week when we talked about Gloria Copeland's sermon on giving we somehow got off on this:

"He died for all, so that those who live might live no longer for themselves, but for him who died and was raised for them."

Diane adds: Living no longer for ourselves. what would THAT look like?

There is a story I want to tell you about that. It's such a good story that I didn't want to just tell it and I had to go through some books to find a version of it that I really liked. This is from The Divine Romance, it's a collection of talks given by the master Paramahansa Yogananda. This is directly from the book:

"Krishna had many women disciples, but one favorite, Radah. Each disciple said to herself, "Krishna loves me more than anyone else." Still, because Krishna often talked of Radha, the others were envious of her. Noticing their jealousy, he wanted to teach them a lesson. So one day Krishna feigned a terrible headache. The anxious disciples expressed their great concern over the Master's distress. At last Krishna said, "The headache will go away if one of you will stand on my head and massage it with your feet." The horrified devotees exclaimed, "We cannot do this, You are God, the Lord of the Universe. It would be highest sacrilege to desecrate your form by touching your sacred head with our feet!"

The Master was pretending an increase of his pain when Radha came on the scene. She ran to her Lord, saying, "What can I do for you?" Krishna made the same request of her that he had made of the other devotees. Radha immediately stood on his head; the Master's "pain" disappeared, and he fell asleep. The other disciples angrily dragged Radha away from the sleeping form.

"We will kill you," they threatened.

"But why?"

"You dare to step on the head of the Master?"

"What of it?" Radha protested, "Did it not free him from his pain?"

"For such a sacrilege you will go to the lowest stratum of Hades."

"Oh, is that what you are worrying about?" Radha smiled. "I would gladly live there forever if it would make him happy for a second.":

Then the all bowed down to Radha, They understood why Krishna favored her; for Radha alone had no thought for herself, but only for her Lord's comfort."

Obviously, there's a lot to think about there.

• What would happen to our ideas about what is sacrilege if we were like Radha?
  
• What "sacrileges" would Jesus just as soon us give up?
• When I insist that others conform to religious expectations am I really just envious?
  
• Am I willing to risk going to "hell" to bring a moments comfort to Jesus?

YIKES! But, that is a pretty good example of what it means to live entirely for someone else. I'm not saying I do it. I am not sure I'm even trying very hard. But, there it is.

Summer Meme From Presbyterian Gal

I got tagged by PresbyterianGal for this fun Summertime meme. Here you go...

1 - What first tells you Summer is here?
Suddenly there are more kids in need of supervision or a hobby and they all want to be where I am.

2 - Name five of your favorite distinctively Summer habits or customs.
I'm a little like the Almighty on that. I never change. I guess I move some of my outdoor activities to the morning. That's about it.

3 - What is your favorite smell of Summer?
I guess I just don't smell of that much stuff.

4 - What is your favorite taste of Summer?
I do like a cold watermelon. Even better with cold vodka injected into it.
Pear tomatoes
Figs

5 - Favorite Summer Memory?
I really like Spring and fall. Summer is a time of misery. I am not sure I have any really fabulous memories of Summer per se. The first day of Fall... Now, that I could maybe come up with some memories for.

6- Extreme hear or extreme cold? Which would you choose and why?
We don't have to choose. I am glad for that. But, again, I like the moderate temperatures. I like sweaters, not coats. I like short sleeves, not bikinis.

7 - What books do you plan to read for the season?
Well it doesn't have anything to do with the "season," such as it is, but I plan to do some re-reading. Judith Antionelli's Feminist Commentary On The Torah is one that I want to re-read. Maybe a few others that I feel I rushed through.

8 - How does Summer affect your faith? Is it a hindrance or an ally?
It does not affect me at all. Maybe it's harder to get away for a retreat but that's so hard anyway I don't see that Summer makes much difference.

Summer annoys me. I think all those children should be in school or detention camps... I don't really care which. I think most of their parents should be there too. It's hot. Too hot. I have to leave my dog home most of the time because he can't stay in the car by himself for even a few minutes. In only a few weeks it will be too hot to do sports outside unless it's very early in the morning. Really, it's not a good idea. A lot of people seem to think that the whole Summer season is a time for them to take a vacation from common courtesy and, between you and me, they didn't behave all that well to begin with. I'm just waiting for winter, that's the only other season we get.

Joyce Meyer Redux

A few weeks ago Joyce Meyer gave us quite a lot to think about with the statement:

If God is in control you don't need to know why..

Hat tip to Ann who helped us question how much control God has. Being crucified, after all, is not really the first thing you think of when you think of a divine being in control of the universe and everything. I let myself off the hook on that by just saying, Oh what an interesting idea... Leave it to our Ann.

But, later, after all of you had moved on to other things, Doxy came along and asked me for a legitimate opinion on that.

I'll admit that one of the things I like best about being an Anglican is that there's never really too much pressure to come up with answer. But, if I am honest, it is also sometimes an excuse to just leave things hanging and not articulate any position at all.

So, I thought about it. And then thought some more. Here is what I wrote to Doxy:

I've been thinking about this for a couple of days Doxy.

I believe that God is in control. I even believe that God, in Jesus, was in control on the cross. It was in not using the control he had -- and, in fact, giving it to others -- that Jesus' death became redemptive for the rest of us.

In writing about resisting evil Swami Vivekananda says this: "The one who from weakness does not resist, commits a sin, and therefore cannot receive any benefit from his nonresistance; while the other would commit a sin by offering resistance." Swami Prabhavanda explains that by saying that we must gather the power to resist; having gained it, we must renounce it.

I think that God has it. I think that Jesus had it. So does the Holy Spirit. It's a god-quality to have all power and knowledge and to also have control. But, the quality that runs parallel to that is the will to relinquish such power.

Now what that means to me in real life is that there are times when I -- not God -- have been granted control which is not really my own. The authority that Jesus gives us is not for us to use for ourselves, it's more of a trust. It obligates more than it empowers.

There is a temptation to take a fatalist approach and say "Oh, God is in control so I have no responsibility." But, the other temptation,the one which says we are in control, implies that we also set the agenda.

I think that it's in exercising control that has been given to us, and on behalf of an agenda that is not our own, that we find the right balance.

Thanks for getting me to think that through.

Lindy

And, in fairness to me, that IS an answer. It just seems real off-the-cuff to me. It's not something I've thought about very deeply and I would sure take some more grist for my mill if you guys have anything new to add.

Some of you may know that I was raised and educated by Baptists. The Baptists do believe that God is in control of everything all the time. That's pretty deep in me. Yet, it rings hollow in light of my own experience with God and what God asks of me. And then there's that nagging image of God hanging on a tree.

So, I am still in process on that. I am not sure what it means if God is not in control. I'm not too worried about it because, deep down, I believe that He IS! And that just makes it more difficult for me to think it through.

Oh God, forgive me when I accept the questions too easily and fail to wrestle with the gift of their difficulty. There's so much I don't know. But, I thank you... thank you, thank you, thank you, that it's never been about what I know, how much I understand. Lead me into what I need to know, and help me release the rest.

My High Hopes

The Gospel reading for yesterday -- at least for the Greek Orthodox -- was the story of the feeding of the five thousand. You all know the story so I am not going to recap it for you here.

What has been rattling around in my head on it is the part where everybody has eaten their fill and the disciples are picking up the left overs. Do you remember exactly what it says about that? Here it is:

And when they had eaten their fill, he told his disciples, "Gather up the fragments left over, that nothing may be lost."

It's the "...that nothing may be lost" part that's got me thinking.

I have heard people say that nothing is ever wasted, that God finds a way to use everything.

I want to believe that. I do. But, there are some things about me that seem pretty unredeemable. And it seems like maybe they should be wasted. You know, you've got to know when to cut your losses. There are some things... I just don't see it.

I hate to be so faithless.

If God is going to gather up the scraps of my life that means He will see them I suppose. My inclination is to ignore them. "Oh, those little scraps... well, Lord, let's just leave those." I want to move on without God seeing some things. There are some things that it would be easier to loose, rather than have them exposed to the light of redemption. Ouch! Couldn't we just leave a few scraps?

"...that nothing may be lost."

I believe in miracles. I've seen God turn heart anguish into bliss. He's done it for me! Yet there is a piercing, there is pain in such transformation and for some reason I continually avoid it.

I hope it's true. I hope that God can make something of the useless and irredeemable pieces of me.

I hope I am not too much in His way.

Such high hopes early this morning.

A Question From The Devil

I’ve been watching TV again. This time I’ve clicked past the glitz of the sparkly clad Joyce Meyer and opted for the folksy down-home preaching of Gloria Copeland. You may know Gloria. She’s the prosperous wife of the prosperous Kenneth Copeland. They’re prosperous.

I’ve got nothing against prosperity, by the way. I wish I had a little more of it to be honest. But I was not all together comfortable with Gloria’s sermon about it.

Gloria says that God wants us to prosper. And, I think that She probably does. I’m just not sure that God and I are on the same page about what prosperity really is. And, I’m not too sure about Gloria either.

Gloria told us that we should tithe, and I agree with that too. She says that if you can’t afford to tithe then, “Man, you need to tithe quick!” She says that if you truly don’t have any money, then you can just go around your house and find some stuff to give away. Don’t send that crap to me though. Give it to Good Will, OK?

Of course, Gloria quoted some scripture for us. She’s a Bible Believer, don’t you know. She seems especially fond of Luke 6:38:

Give, and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over, shall men give into your bosom. For with the same measure that ye mete withal it shall be measured to you again.

And, you know what, that IS in there. And I believe it’s more or less true, just like everything else in there.

I have a question about that though. And, I’ll tell you where I got my question. I got it from the devil. And before you call Gloria to schedule an exorcism for me let me tell you my question. The question I have this morning is, Why does that matter… all that pressed down, running over business? I mean, is that why we give? Are we motivated only by what’s in it for us? That doesn’t seem quite right to me.

You may not know Gloria Copeland but I’ll bet you do know the devil… especially you Lutherans.

The story is that the devil had just come in from a tour of the world and he went to see God. God asks the devil what he’s been up to and the devil tells God all about his experiences of walking up and down on the earth. So, God asked the devil if he happen to see a fella’ called Job. “He’s upright and blameless,” says God proudly. Unimpressed, the devil responds with our question for today,

“Does Job fear God for nothing? Have you not put a fence around him and his house and all that he has? "

"Shoot,” says the devil, “anyone would be faithful to you if you took care of them the way you care for Job.” OK, maybe a little interpretative license there. But, you know what I mean.

If I were speculating, and I am, I’d guess that the devil HAD noticed Job. How else would he have known about the fence? The fence is “…on every side,” the devil reports.

Well, except for a few assorted heathen types, you all are Bible readers. You know what happens next. But, this is not really about Job. We are way off track if you think this is about Job. That would be too easy. This is about us. Why are we faithful?

I suspect that there are as many ways to be faithful as there are lovers of God, and I would also say that there are probably as many reasons. Sometimes I do get something out of it. Maybe a peaceful easy feeling, or a feeling that I am a little bit holy. I love that. I do. Sometimes I even feel that all my praying does something. We're silly creatures, aren't we?

But, again just speculating, I suspect that it is when we get nothing and yet remain faithful that we are truly blessed. It’s a way of believing without seeing. It’s steadfast.

I know, I know… before you say it… I know that it’s hard. And I’m not telling you that you should be faithful. I don’t know why any of us remain faithful. It’s a big mystery to me, people and their responses to God. I can’t even explain my own small faithfulness. But, to be totally honest, I don’t think any of us have fences around us the way Job did. And so I wonder what does motivate us. I think that’s a good question even if it did come from the devil.

I want to make sure that my own answer is more along the lines of loving God, and not so much about the stuff that God might give me.

Just something to think about…

A happy Memorial Day to all. Rowan and I are going out to the lake to see some friends and hang out. Nothing too fancy but a good time will be had by all. Rowan has some new balls and a new shirt which is real sporty. You know how the dog loves to dress up!

I love you all.