Trees of Exodus

As I migrate out of town, I walk with them. 

They are my companions these trees of mine. 

They have not joined my “ranks”, I have joined theirs. 

They speak to me in hushed, deep tones, 

Tones of remorse, of life, of joy and of deep running waters. 

Their roots are reluctant to take flight, 

But when they do, it is for something most profound. 

So I join with them on this journey, stepping with them into…something important. 

I look carefully at their trunks, breath in their scent 

and I long to be carried on their shoulders. 

And then, without warning I am lifted up. 

Tucked into the folds of his branches, I feel renewed by the scent of life. 

Wisdom washes over me and I smell the smell of understanding. 

It seems clear to me that I have joined in the march with them…

But then, as I look down, there is a new revelation. 

In place of my body, I see a young sapling. 

Only then do I realize the truth. I have not ventured out on my own!

I have only followed in the footsteps of my forebears. 

And, carried now by their strength, I’m lifted into the counsel of a life not my own. 

Like, you know...

Apology (more than) accepted!

This morning, as the three of us were eating breakfast, Maia suddenly looked at me and said, "I sorry disobey...books."

"What's that Maia?" I asked.

"I sorry disobey books," she repeated, this time tagging on a momentary fake cry at the end.

What Kelli and I realized is that she was spontaneously apologizing for a bad attitude she had had the night before when selecting a book to read before bed.

My eyes welled up with tears at her sensitivity to this misbehavior, but I still managed to say, "I forgive you Maia. And I love you very much..."

The art of remembering

I just finished this piece for my Covenant class Ministry Leadership:

In The Search Process, Rumford discusses how best to evaluate and discover a new position when making a transition in ministry position. He spends a good bit of time discussing how to discover your true passion and dreams. As a means of discovering what those true passions are, he encourages the reader to look back into old journals and calendars. Having recently taken a new direction in life in order to pursue a career in filmmaking, I have experienced a lot of questions, doubts and uncertainties in my newly appointed path. This has especially been true as I have read through our Leadership Handbook assignments. I find myself constantly wondering, “Am I missing out on something here? Have I been too presumptuous in pursuing this “dream” of mine? Should I still be pursuing fulltime vocational ministry? Inspired by Rumford’s remarks, I picked up a couple of old journals.

The art of remembrance is a jewel for the Christian and non-Christian alike. When we remember, we hone our sense of purpose and of place. We gain perspective and are suddenly grounded in a place in time. I was talking with one of our professors yesterday about the difficulty I often have in my heart to believe that the Holy Spirit will (and does) work transformationally in the lives of the downtrodden, poor and socially dejected. His advice: remember… Remember where the Lord has worked in the past. Use a prayer journal to keep track of the ways in which God answers prayer. When we remember, he reminded me, we often can’t help but believe.

So, with these remarks in hand, I started perusing my past writings. My exercise in remembrance proved to be the workout that my spirit needed. It stretched and pulled the muscles of my faith. I could see more clearly the ways that the Lord had been directing me to the place I am now at. I could almost feel my faith setting up—like a cement sculpture strengthening with age. The self-absorption of some of the past entries makes me wince. Other entries—recounting specific events in which the Lord was directing me to this current path—brought a sense of wonder for his grace in my life. Are all my questions now answered? No. Is my journal the perfect antidote for all my times of doubting? No, that’s why he has given us his spirit and his word. Nonetheless, he has also given to us the art of remembrance, for it’s often only when we stop forgetting that we really start to live.

Total Lunar Eclipse

Snowy Day

Grand Central Station