Grace, in rain?

It is pouring rain and has been since yesterday.  It is Dec.19th and for some of us in the Maritimes (most of us CFAs -come from awayers) the prayer is for snow.  As a family that shares a car, it was hubbies day to take the car to work, so that means the final Christmas communion visits will be done on foot in a bright yellow rain coat (and perhaps the yellow pants too, unless the bus is taken).  Ick!
Perhaps grace is found in how bright the Christmas lights look against such a backdrop.  Yes it is on while this blog post is being written, along with the electric fireplace.
May grace is how warm the morning cup of tea feels or the warmth of the wool sweater.
On days like this visits can require extra energy and patience...aches and pains seem worse, people move slower, the weather makes people sleepy and sad.  Here's praying that grace moves ahead and behind the feet, wherever they go, all day, every day, but especially in the darkness of today.

A Prophet in Our Midst

On Sunday the sermon was about prophets.  It began with tinkling of bells on the hem of Zechariah the priest's robes as he went to take the incense offering into the Holy of Holies.  While there, he encountered the angel of the Lord, who told him that his wife, Elizabeth, in her old age would bear a child.  "How will I know this?" asks Zechariah.  For this Zechariah is speechless until his son is born.  Zechariah's speechlessness speaks volumes.  Then, on regaining his voice, he sings a hymn of praise.  His son, John the Baptist, offers the Good News in a very different way than Zechariah -he is like a magnet-a-phone.  
The point of the sermon was that for a short moment in time Zechariah and John were proclaimers of Good News; they were prophets for a particular time and in a particular place.  Are we ever called to be bearers of Good News?  To be prophetic for a short moment of time in the place where we find ourselves?
At the end of the sermon, as the pulpit was vacated, a loud "thank-you" came from the back of the church. Then the gentlemen walked out of the building.  This gentlemen came back in shortly, as the congregation was singing.  He walked right up to the altar and handed me two plaques.  Both were black with gold writing; one said "love", the other "home".  Then he left again.
The gentlemen's name is Brian.  He lives on the margin of society, often spending the night on the street.  He is part of the neighbourhood and will stop to tell stories about his grandmother, his faith, some of his life experiences.  He passes on treasures from one person to another, to bring joy, to share love.
Sunday morning Resurrection was awakened by two prophetic words: love and home.  Sunday morning we were that for Brian, and reminded that that is our prophetic word for the world.
Thank-you Brian for being God's prophet in our midst.

Why We Celebrate Not-so-real Stories

Over the past few days, I have been reminded of conversations over the years,  that there is very little actual truth in the details of Christmas narative and the way we celebrate it.  -Dec. 25 more like some time in Sept....and so on.
      On Monday my son asked if I needed help putting up the Christmas tree.  To start with it is about a week earlier than it usually goes up.  "I wasn't thinking about doing that today."  "OK :(   Well I changed my mind and together we hauled the tree up from the work room and the wooden box it sits on.  We had a grand time, my 17 year old, talking up a storm.
       The next day after school, "Mom are we decorating the tree sometime."  Well it wasn't on my schedule.  So he helped me put the lights on it - a job over the years that we have always done together.   Once again excitedly chatting up a storm.  If I didn't see the almost 6ft young man in front of me, I would have guessed he was five.  He was totally affected by the nip in the air, the snowflakes gently falling, and making the house festive.  For me it was two afternoons of grace -time with my son, seeing delight as the old decorations were pulled from their paper, joking about me moving decorations after they are already on the tree (I only rerouted two this year).
This in itself is a reason why we celebrate a story that didn't happen exactly the way it says that it did.
       Then last night at the supper table my 19 year old talked about friends who get caught up in her fascination with science and tell her she is wrong, those who read the Bible in a black and white manner.  We talked about learning to be a discerning reader, embracing metaphor, finding truth in the pieces presented, and loving hope, God, in a well told beloved story.
They appreciate celebrating the story in all its parts, feeding on the hope, love, and grace found therein.  ....and on top of that reminding "mom" that being giddy is a gracefilled attitude.

Finding a way to communicate | The Chronicle Herald

Finding a way to communicate | The Chronicle Herald

What makes this story so full of grace, is that it was a parishoner (John Labelle) who had an idea.  He saw a glimpse of what God's kingdom looks like and is endeavouring to make it happen.  We should all be inspirted to bring God's kingdom into the now.

I Have Done My Time -a poem

``I HAVE DONE MY TIME``

If this were true I would not be alive.

I would cease being a mother when my children

                reached a magic age.

I would never have to learn anything once leaving

                        high school.

I would not have to pray because I have already

               done it.

I wouldn`t have to clean the house, do laundry, go 

               grocery shopping, or shower

...been there and done that.

Whatever  makes us think that,

 “I have done my time”?

It is that time of year again,

 when churches are seeking council members and ministry facilitators for the coming year.

I would like just one year not to hear:

...I  have done my time...

I  taught Sunday school when my kids where little,

I’ve done my time...

I have sat on church council, more than once,

I’ve done my time...

I’ve changed light bulbs and fixed this and that,

I’ve done my time...

I’ve made sandwiches and worked in the kitchen,

I’ve done my time...

...so does that mean you have no more opinions?

Does it mean you have nothing to teach anyone?

Does it mean that you have no more faith to share?

Does it mean no more responsibility to the community?

Does it mean there is no more love?

Are you telling me, that because

“you have done your time”,

you are no longer required to be about God’s ministry in the world?

You are alive.

You are a child of God.

You have been given gifts to share.

As long as you are present in this world,

you are responsible to be a part of the community.

The church is not just a building,

not just an institution,

the church is not everyone around you;

you are the church when working in community with like minded people to share the Good News;

to be the Good News

to be hope in a hurting world.

Light in the darkness.

A Continuing Moment of Mystery

For the past month and a half, my running route has included running past a the most delightful Japanese maple tree.  It is one of the highlights of this route all year around.  At the time of Canadian Thanksgiving, the tree was its best in maroon coloured leaves, alive, fluttering and breathing.  It looked like it enjoyed the breeze and every breath.
As autumn became full the tree turned slowly, day by day, to a vibrant red.  Each leaf would change from its veins (from the core) to the individuals tips.  Every time one passed the tree, it was different. Glorious.  It shone with grace.
As autumn progressed the leaves lost their brilliance, dripping from the tips and then curling up, turning to dry blood, and then falling off...to scatter the ground in a circle of "it is finished".
Tonight I reflected on how the tree  transformed in glory.  I ran past this evening in the dark.   Only a few spots here and there shone in the light of the streetlight.  One could run past without even knowing.
...except that I did know...I could feel the tree.  Over the autumn season the awareness of each other became relationship.  The tree was always reaching out. I just had to open my eyes and become engaged.
This is grace.

Grace for all! Jazz for Cows

Dancing Flowers

http://vimeo.com/vorobyoff/flowers

This is a fantastic video.  Imagine the flowers are dancing and telling/showing/sharing the grace of the Creator God.  Take a moment and disappear into the wonder of God's beautiful grace.

"A Snow Day"

Grace today was in a non-snow day snow-day.
Whether this is fantasy or not, I remember a year when I was in public school, that had 15 snow days.  Mom and dad continually tell me it was not that many....but it sure seemed liked it.  I loved school, so to have a school day was brutal.  It's not that I didn't like hanging at home or with my mom and dad.  I really enjoyed learning and watching other people; the best place to do this was at school.
Well today, many of my activities were cancelled.  I could stay home (which was alright as it is very gusty and wet outside thanks to remnants of hurricane Sandy).  So I had a snow day that was not a  snow day.  As I get older, I find grace in the moments when there is a chance to slow down, and a surprise moment of time given in which one can do a project one has wanted to do for a long time.
Today has been grace.

When Something Amazing Happens at Church

This morning the most amazing thing happened:
During the sermon time was given to silently pray our sadness.  People were invited to pray through the alphabet, a word, phrase, or thought beginning with each letter -all related to sadness, grief, guilt and the like.  The grace came in the silence...total silence....no coughing....no fidgeting...no breathing sounds....silence...
And then people were invited to call out thanksgiving and praise as we worked through the alphabet.  Grace came in the laughter, the joy.
ahhhhhhh

Pray in this way today: Psalm 37

breathe
Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for God.
breathe
Be still before the Lord and wait patiently
breathe
Be still before the Lord and wait
breathe
Be still before the Lord
breathe
Be still before
breathe
Be still
breathe
BE