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July 31, 2012
Beloved: “Consider the birds and the flowers,” Jesus said, “Are you not more valuable than them? If your heavenly Father feeds them, what won’t he do for you? I might have over-fertilized. The new soil in my garden was scraped off a cow pasture somewhere in Lawrence County. To that I added some 12-12-12 and I’ve watered every other day. There are tomatoes in there I can’t get to and pepper plants I can’t find. The sunflower stalks are big as my wrist and so top heavy they fell over. I tied them to the fence with garden twine which snapped after a few days. Now I have them anchored with bungie cord. I’ll need a ladder to cut flowers. It’s like Creation’s playing a crazy joke! But opposite this jungle is the greater grace ~ the rose canes have sprouted new leaves. In May they were heavy with red blooms and foliage. Then we transplanted them and everything died off. I replanted the tall sticks and for two months I’ve watered them, babied them, talked to them and prayed for them a little. I read a book on roses and decided mine were finished. I’d killed them. Nope. They are alive. They have been alive all this time, healing and gaining strength from the soil, sun and water ~ maybe a little from the prayers too. But I was only praying God might do what God has already done. Sun and soil and water are what make all things grow. As always, my part is to trust and obey. Trust Nature to take its usual course while obediently doing what I can like weed, water and pray. I was better at obedience than trust. Instead of believing it was alive, I decided it was dead, my impatience being the only supporting evidence. What faith and joy come with being wrong! What hope comes by way of plain old roses! What seemed surely dead is alive and gaining strength however dormant it appears. Most amazing of all ~ it’s not a miracle, not an anomaly. It’s simply how God works, the original design set in motion once for all and we are part of it. Our lives, our hurts, our healing are as incorporated into Creation’s design as sunflowers and roses. God is always doing God’s part. Ours is to trust and obey. ~peace and prayers, pastor annette
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July 24, 2012
Beloved: As mother, gardener and pastor, this summer’s spiritual task is waiting. I wait for the sound of my almost grown son to arrive safely. I wait for the workers to finish my concrete. I wait for rain. I wait with a family at the loved one’s bedside. I wait for discernment. In the meantime, tempted to worry I try to pray. Praying I discover knowledge that brings enlightenment. With enlightenment comes peace. When he isn’t caring for his campers in 100 degree weather, my son is studying Latin. He is a good boy who knows everything necessary to make faithful decisions. If he doesn’t, he’ll ask. Mine is to trust him and trust the Lord in him. Finished concrete is what my oldest daughter calls a first world problem. Fussing about a luxury item is prideful and a poor witness. Alas, these tricky summer clouds that promise rain at 6 am and break their promise within the hour. So the people who manufacture garden hose and sprinklers hire more workers and unemployment drops, even if the rain doesn’t. Heaven’s gate finally opens so the family weeps and heals. Discernment is the greatest challenge of all; understanding what qualifies as grace, knowing how and when to speak, finding heart to speak clearly, humbly, lovingly. Not until things need doing and I can’t do them or don’t know how to do them is faithfulness an issue. Then and only then comes the opportunity to trust the Lord, to pray expectantly . . . and wait. I wonder how long one must wait to learn that faithful waiting is not doing nothing? This summer anyway, it is everything. May our waiting prayers be faithful and full of joy. peace, pastor annette PS ~ Ever find yourself in a daily devotional slump? I’ve just discovered these 10 minute podcasts of guided prayer and bible reading and I love it! Check it out at http://www.pray-as-you-go.org/ Beloved:
Saturday a hummingbird believed he was trapped inside our screened-in porch. For an hour I checked on him. For an hour he rammed the screen, as though by his ramming it would morph into a doorway. Fly swatter in my hand, I approached him, calmly explaining my kind intentions. Entrapping him between the swatter and the screen I slipped my hand around his soft little body. In a last ditch effort to save himself, he locked his tiny toes onto the screen wire. “You have to let go if you want my help,” I told him, “I’m fine either way but I’m not pulling your legs off to save you.” Our standoff lasted about 5 seconds before he relaxed. Two steps to the door and I opened my hand. He can dive at a feeder well the size of a rice grain and never overshoot, never miss. But when panicked he cannot find a 8’x4’ doorway and he cannot see the wire mesh between himself and the trees. To him, the situation is give up and quietly die in this trap, or fight this invisible enemy and die a hero. What apparently didn’t occur to him, at least in the first hour was, I could calm down, use my God-given aeronautical genius and figure this out. A simple reconnaissance flight ought to suffice. If not, I’ll wait for that lady who feeds us to come along. She checks on her flowers about every 10 minutes when she should be working on her sermon so she’ll be by sooner or later. There is a cat, but he’s too fat and lazy to jump high any more. There’s shade and plenty of water, I’ll be okay for awhile. Relaxing his grip put his fate in my hand. Imminent freedom or certain condemnation? He could not know and still he trusted. Rich is the memory for faith, reminding me that panic adds trouble to trouble. Panic overrides my God-given capacity to see, to think, to assess and to trust. I descend into either-or believing which sets up false choices that lead to regrettable decisions. Unlike panic, faith breathes deeply. Faith waits and assesses. Faith suggests that the way in may also be the way out and if not, God is not far off. Faith recalls that waiting upon the Lord is neither weak nor fatal. It is wise and life-giving. Faith looks for and finds the good, the shade and the water, even in the midst of trouble. As I write this morning, the hummingbirds buzz nearby. enjoying the cool air and the sugar water. I must remember to close the porch door. ~ peace and prayers, pastor annette Beloved:
One of our beloved, Bob Gaddis, is very sick today. Last evening he was having supper at home with his grandson Alan and suffered a massive stroke. He went to Bloomington Hospital by ambulance and is now in CCU. His prognosis is not good nor entirely hopeless. His doctor says his brain may attempt to heal itself, in which case the outcome will be far better than any surgical option. Bob was very clear with his family that in such an event he did not want extraordinary measures taken so they are keeping him comfortable and watching for changes. He is not suffering and Gwenette is with him. Of course,his medical prognosis constitutes the lesser reality. It may well be Bob is experiencing the great healing to which we all look forward, about to pass through heaven’s gate. If so, we can only rejoice in his fortune. In the years I’ve known him, hardly a conversation didn’t include some sweet memory of his darling Martha. How he has missed her. With what joy he will go to her on the day God chooses. Heaven’s gain is our loss and even the anticipated grief can take our breath. So we must breathe deeply and pray for strength to face the day like brave children. Take a moment here and there throughout the day to pray for Bob. Pray for his children, Gwenette and Bob Jr., his three grandchildren and for all the people tending him today. Surely you want to help and I’ll let you know if they need anything. I expect Gwenette will enjoy company if you’d like to stop by. His room number is 2606. I will be there a good part of the day too. peace & prayers, pastor annette |
I write a Tuesday morning devotional to members and friends of UBC. It is also posted here.
Enjoy! Pastor Annette Copyright
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