Star Gazing

17991487168I believe the soul is the very being of who you are.  It is the essence of your existence.  It is the principal of your presence.  It matters more than anything…and I mean, more than ANYTHING.  More than your job, more than your house, more than your car, more than your marriage, more than your family, even more than your dog.  And, if this is true, and I’m just thinking out loud, but if this is true…why do we waste time on things that do not feed our soul?  Why do we invest in things that distract us from becoming who we are truly meant to be at the very center of our spirit?

Why don’t we create a space in our life, our home, our work, our commute, and our relationships that feeds this soul, this part of us that will move from this world to the next even as our bodies lie rotting in the grave?  Why instead, do we seek to entertain and numb the senses?  Why do we stress about the money and the drive and the work and the bills and the, and the, and the?  Why don’t we look for ways to renew our soul, to feed the very core of our beings?  Why don’t we seek solace?  Why don’t we pursue purpose?  Why don’t we want wisdom?  Why don’t we ask for answers?

As I write this, I am attending a day-long personal Advent retreat.  I am sitting alone in a cloistered room in the upper level of this three-story, turn-of-the-century home studying the Christmas story and the Wise Men who so committedly pursued the star in the sky in order to see a king in a stable.  It was their purpose.  It was their passion.

This amazing home and the time “away” has giving me the opportunity to reflect on the “Stars” in my own life; those things which guide me into the presence of God.  They may be people, events, places, or even experiences.  And to be honest, as I’ve pondered this idea and searched for the guiding light of my life, I’ve realized that, sadly, I have very few.  Or rather, I am aware of very few: I suspect the stars are there but I’m simply unable to see them clearly.  I’m too distracted by the blinding glare of the false illumination in my world.

I am reminded of our trip to Yellowstone Park in 2009.  We were driving from one end of the park to the other and because of the heavy traffic and the great distance, we found ourselves shy of our destination very late at night in a high plateau in the park. There were no cities, no street lights, and no other cars for miles.  We were there, alone, in the darkness.  We stopped the car and turned out all the lights and sat on the hood, looking up into a sky that was unlike any I’d ever seen before.  Without man-made ambient light to limit our vision, we were able to see stars in a way we’d never seen them before.  The clarity and intensity of those heavenly bodies was breath-taking.  They spanned the night sky and left us at a loss for words, in awe of their scope and grandeur.

As I think about the search for stars in my life that leads me, I realize that there is no time in my life when I am not blinded by the ambient distractions a busy world.  Understand, I don’t blame anyone but myself.  I’ve erected the lights.  I’ve cultivated the distractions.  I’ve created the lack of space and time for careful observation and sky gazing.

The sad truth is that I fail to carve out time that is purely committed to this endeavor.  Instead, I fill my hours with television, movies, busy work, worry and games – as many distractions as possible, diversions of every kind.  As a result, I fail to feed by soul, exercise my body, and manage my physical, emotional, and spiritual health.

And so, it begs the question:  What would I need to do to renew my soul on a daily basis?  What space do I need to create that will allow me to find peace, discover grace, and feed my soul?  And if you are like me, and I suspect you are, what do you need to do?  What space do you need to create?

Let’s be honest; when is the last time you truly looked at the stars?

Taking Out The Trash

cropped-austins-acre-sunrise-barn1.jpgLet’s be honest.  This was a week of crazy.  This was a work week of stupid.

In just three short days in the office I dealt with a liar and a thief and a couple very smart people without an ounce of ethics in their bones.  I was trapped in my office as people went on 30-minute rants about their drives to work, the conditions of the roads and the stupid people who drive them.  I suffered a man who seems to desire nothing more than making his girlfriend uncomfortable with his choices, his humor and his selfish desires.  I tolerated a woman who finds joy in making her coworkers’ lives miserable by assigning meaningless tasks.  I endured another woman who needed action on a project immediately, resulting in hours of work on my part only to find that she meant her 32 emails to go to someone else and their project.

It was a banner week.  One for the books.  And I can guarantee you’ve had one just like in the past…And will have one just like it in the future.  People can get under our skin.  Their constant droning can ring in our ears like the 7-year locust on a hot summer day.

However, I’ve discovered a new trick to avoid the annoying buzz they bring:  I let them carry out whatever they’ve carried in; not literally, of course, but in my own mind’s eye I see them hauling out the hubris.  What I do is this:  As they talk, blab, drone, blather and complain, I grab a notepad and I scribble down their story.  I record their rant.  I compose their confession.  I draft their droning.  I write their rant.

It’s like taking notes in a meeting…only a lot more fun.  I don’t write entire sentences but only jot key words, central themes and great quotes.  And when they leave, I throw it away. I simply toss it in the trash. I crumple the complaints. I destroy the diatribe.  I shred the sound off.  I trash their tirade.  When they leave the room, they take their garbage with them and I eliminate the evidence.

I don’t allow them to leave their emotional litter.  I pick up their piles of poisoned passion and I sweep away the sour sentiments.

Imagine a day in your life when you are not side-tracked by crazy.  Imagine a time when another person’s philippic doesn’t become your own internal struggle.  Imagine living life free from other peoples’ problems. This is one way to clear your desk and your mind and get back to the things that matter most.

Try it next week.  It just might work as well for you as it does for me!

 

Resolving to Revolutionize My Life

WWLHappy New Year!  This is it.  This is the one.  This is the year when everything changes:  You will make and save more money than ever before.  You will loose those last (or first) ten pounds.  You will find a meaningful hobby.  You will volunteer in a way that changes lives.  You will fix up the house, get a new wardrobe and read War & Peace.

This is the year that you climb the mountain of apathy, plant the flag of determination and take the stance of self-assurance.

This is your year and nothing will change your mind.  You will set your sail, stay the course and find new adventures over every horizon.

Or…you won’t.  You might just stay the same…or worse.

You might make less money and spend it foolishly.  You might blow up like a human balloon because you can’t control your eating and your emotions.  You might live a year of sloth; no hobby, no meaningful service, or no home repairs.  You just might sit around in Cheetos-stained t-shirts watching reruns of Happy Days wishing you were as cool as the Fonz.

Instead of blazing new trails, you are afraid to mow your own yard.  Instead of leading the charge into a life of adventure, you cuddle under your Harry Potter Snuggie in the dark of night.

This is it.  This is your year.  And it could go either way.  Which one will you select?

Grace House

Dinner Table

There are a few places in my life that bring deep peace to my heart and soul.  When I enter the space, I find comfort and ease.  Some of these sanctuaries of solace include the obvious locations:  The Chapel in the hospital and my church auditorium.

Others are more obscure:  McGregor Park, Turkey Run State Park, The Rocky Mountains, The Library.  But one haven of healing stands out above all others.

Of all my precious asylums, our abode is my favorite.  Our house is nothing short of a retreat center for my spirit, a balm for my soul.  It is a residence of rest, a hearth of harmony, a quarter of quiet.  Our home is a dear and wonderful place of tranquility and renewal.

I’m not exactly sure what makes this place so magical to my weary heart.  It might be the way the light shines through the dining room window on a late autumn evening.  It could be the way the grass grows in the back yard, thick and lush even on dry summer days.  It is possible that it is the amazingly warm and inviting colors we’ve painted the walls.  Or, most probably, it is the love and trust we’ve honed over the past thirteen years in this a little, vinyl-sided structure planted on a cul-de-sac in a norther-Indianapolis suburb.

Whatever it is that creates the mystery of this mansion, this house is more than my home.  It is my sanctuary: A place of grace.  It is “Grace House”…my place of safety and strength. And I love it, dearly.

More of the Same

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAIf you follow Austin’s Acre, you know that I post pictures, thoughts and comments from time to time.

But did you know that I also post daily to my second blog, “My Journey to 50 Blog“?  It’s true.  If you are one of the 120 people who follow Austin’s Acre, you might also enjoy some of the posts in Journey to 50.

Journey to 50 is my attempt to track my life during this last year of my 4th decade of life.

Feel free to visit, to read a little and to follow the blog.  By clicking the button in the upper right-hand corner of the page, you’ll get an update every time I post.

It might not change your life but it surely can’t hurt.  And that’s really my goal.

http://myjourneyto50blog.com

Old Man

0008_In%20FocusIt was nothing more than an attempt at Intaglio printing; my first print from 1982.

It doesn’t have a name and there is only one copy remaining in my portfolio.  And yet, it is one of my favorite prints.  There isn’t anything about it that will win awards.  It doesn’t excel in composition, line quality or style.  It doesn’t tell a story.  It is doubtful that it will ever hang on a gallery wall.  But I like it.

It represents a time when I was trying to learn a craft.  It reflects a moment when I was willing to take a chance.  It reveals a period of my life when I stretched my comfort zone and explore new media, new ideas and new goals.  It tells the tale of a desire to be different; to be better.

When is the last time you took a chance?  When is the last time you stepped out into the unknown?  Was it 1984?  Have decades rolled past without a challenge?  Have you stayed in your comfort zone so long that the idea of peaking over the fences into greener pastures is terrifying?

Since 1982, I’ve changed jobs (pastor, deli manager, warehouse worker, ICU clerk, law firm lackey, research coordinator) and each new position brought new challenges.  I’ve become a writer (blogging since 2004, 3rd place winner of Writer’s Digest Short Story Competition) and some of my stuff is really good and others stink.  I completed my Fine Arts degree.  I completed my Master of Divinity degree.  I’m starting on my Bachelors of Science in Communication degree.  I’m learning Spanish.

Perhaps more important than any of these, I’ve learned how to cook the perfect roasted chicken and a yummy Beef Bourguignon that would make Julia Child very proud.

But the point is I’m still that guy who drew this face back in 1982.  I’m willing to try it.

New job?  Sure.  Different food?  Of course!  A revolutionary idea?  Why not?

What will you do today to stretch your comfort zone?  What will you try that is new and different?  How will you grow beyond the self-imposed boundaries that you’ve created over the years?

I suggest you try drawing an old man, rather than becoming one.

 

Rebecca’s Party

We love our friends, the Mullens Family.  We’ve stood beside one another for many, many years.  It was such a joy to celebrate with Rebecca and her family in recognition of her graduation from high school.  It doesn’t seem possible that 18 years have gone by so fast!

A Little Change

IMG_4070I walked to the counter and ordered a large diet Coke.  In Indiana, after tax, the cost is $1.09.  I handed the 17-something cashier a ten-dollar-bill.  She punched some buttons on her screen and it told her that I should receive $8.91 in cash back from my payment.

This stymied her.  She thumbed through the drawer and picked up some coins.  She put back the coins and tried again.  She thought about it a minute and then pulled out a five dollar bill and three ones.  So far, so good.

And then she dropped the coins into my outstretched hand and said, “Thank you.  Please come again.”  When I looked at the change in my hand, I realized that she’d miscounted.  Instead of $8.91, I just received back $9.06.  It was like getting six ounces of diet Coke for free.

I turned to bring this to her attention but before I could say anything, one customer had already ordered a baffling amount of food and another was standing in line with an open sandwich and a frustrated look on her face.  I decided that this wasn’t the right time to quibble over 15 cents.

But then, I asked myself if there is EVER a good time to quibble over 15 cents?  If she shorted me the 15 pennies, would I really care?  If every place I went, people gave me 15 pennies, would I eventually just give in and pocket the cash?

The point is that every day we get over-paid and short-changed.  We get a little more than we deserve and give a little bit less than we want.  In the end, I think it pretty much balances out.  Unless, of course, we spend most of our time and energy feeling bamboozled, stiffed and hustled.

Little things happen in our lives each and every day that can drive us to distraction if we let them:  People pull into the 2-second gap we’ve created for safe driving, forcing us to back up even further.  Tellers scan the peanut butter twice by mistake.  Trash is tossed into my yard by a passing driver.  We step into the check out lane that is ALWAYS the slowest.  Our neighbor blows his grass clippings on the sidewalk.  Life stinks.

Sure, we can carp about the crime.  We can cavil concerning the calamity.  We fuss over the favoritism, protest the partiality, object the outrage, and take exception to the trespass.  We spend so much time and energy on the 15-cent transgression that we lose site of the bigger picture and the blessings that are going on all around us.

Because, at the same time these infractions are occurring, there are so many good things happening in our lives: A manager opens a new checkout lane and calls you over to run your purchases.  You see the neighbor who walks her dog every single day with scooper and bag in hand.  Friends offer to come help work in your home because they know the burden you  have in completing a kitchen remodel.  You get an unexpected check in the mail.  A flower blooms.  A baby laughs.  A cat curls up in your lap.  A cup of coffee is brewed.  The sun peaks through the clouds.

Instead of focusing on the loss of 15-cents, we could celebrate a little charity.  We might bless the boon.  We should glorify the gift, praise the positive, or even extoll the excellent.

We are fickle creatures.  Fifteen cents to the good, we easily forget.  Fifteen cents to the negative and we’re all over that.

Perhaps it’s time for a new perspective.  Perhaps it’s time for a little change.

My Morning on the Patio

IMG_4016I’m sitting here on my patio, listening to the trickle of water from my fountain and feeling the cool morning breeze on my face.  This is where I want to be.  There’s nothing else I want to do.  I want to stay here all day.  I want to pretend that I have no responsibilities at all.

But that just isn’t how I function.  Instead, I’ve already made a to-do list of at least nine different actions that must take place today to prepare me for the rest of the week.  I’ve mentally shifted from restful Sunday morning to task-oriented Monday-through-Friday.  I have to make calls.  I have to prep equipment.  I must clean parts of the house.  I should wash clothes and clean my garage.

There is so much to do, so many tasks, so few hours in a day to get it all done…

But then, it will never all get done.  Will it?  Isn’t there ALWAYS something else on the list of Life’s To-Do’s?  Sure, I’ll do some things to make my next week a little easier.  But I don’t have to do it all in one day.  And after reviewing the list, I see that half of the items can be done another day.  One third of the remaining list will take little or no effort.

And in their place I scratch a new list:  Go to church, read a book, walk with my wife, play chess with my son, and meditate 15 minutes.  If I accomplish these items, I will have really done something great.  In fact, I would argue that this is a much better list and one I can easily live with on a beautiful Sunday morning.

The Bone

IMG_3997[1]My dog has a nervous habit.  Actually, if you’ve met Sid, you know that she has many nervous habits but today we’re only talking about one.

When Sidney is stressed, she picks up a bone and carries it around for a little while, pacing the room in circles until she finally settles on a spot, plops down, and starts gnawing on the bone.  She holds it is place with one of her paws and then chews, scrapes and crunches without mercy and without a break.

I learned very quickly that the raw-hide chews were a waste of money.  She devours them in seconds.  Tennis balls get shredded.  Fluffy toys are pulverized.  But the thick shank bone is perfect; it can survive months of nervous chewing.

I am constantly amazed at her tenacity.  Whatever is in that bone must be good.  But I can’t imagine what it must be.  I’ve evaluated this chew toy and there is no meat on the bone.  There is no morrow in the middle.  It’s an empty shell.

And yet, she crunches.  She cracks.  She shaves.  She nibbles.  Not once does she stop to stretch out her the muscles of her jaw or check for possible tooth damage.  She is so singularly focused that we can actually get up and leave the room without her noticing.  I can’t imagine going after something so worthless with such a vengeance.

Then I think of my friend who has a drinking problem.  He sips.  He drinks.  He gulps.  He starts quiet and ends loud.  He doesn’t stop to assess the damage.  He just keeps slugging back the drinks; first the beer and then the harder stuff.  His face gets flushed.  His eyes get red.  He just doesn’t stop until he’s either driven home by an embarrassed friend or the police are called.

There’s the woman in our church who spends every waking minute thinking about her children.  How are they dressed?  What activities are best for their future careers?  Why didn’t they make the basketball team?  Is that coach stupid?  Don’t hang out with that kid.  His grades aren’t very good.  Stand up straight.  Get into the best college, drive the nicest car, date a better girl.  She’s created two neurotic kids and one who is the most rebellious young woman I’ve ever met.  This mother is working hard to destroy a fourth child even as I write this.

Or perhaps it is the man I know who works 80 hours a week to prove his value, increase his stock in the company, and make a name for himself in the business community.  He wakes before the rest of his family and is out the door before his kids are on the bus.  He arrives home late because there is always one more call to make, one more meeting to attend, or one more fire to put out.  Sure, he attends his kid’s soccer matches but stands off to the side, his cell phone to his ear, talking animatedly about the next big thing.  The work is always there and never ends.  He has yet to consider where he will be in 20-years when his kids are gone and his relationship with his wife is non-existent.

But these people are not alone.  It doesn’t take much to realize that most of us have a bone.  Many of us chew nervously on one thing or the other.  It might be children, or drink, or work.  Or it might be image, exercise or gossip.  It could be travel, success, the cars we drive, the homes we live in, the boats we polish in the warm summer sun.  There’s no end to what we hold in our teeth when we lose focus on what matters most.

But let me ask you a question:  Don’t your jaws get tired?  Isn’t there a point when you just want to release the bone?  Aren’t you afraid that some day you’ll look up and you will realize that the bone you’ve been chewing has no flavor at all and you’ve missed out on what really matters?

So, for today, drop the bone.  Hold the hand of a friend.  Sit in the shade and drink a tall glass of tea.  Listen to your children laugh.  Read a novel.  Write a poem.  Call your mother.  Turn up the radio and sing along at the top of your voice.

Put down the bone and go for a stroll in your neighborhood…not a power walk, just a stroll.  Find peace in your day.  Discover the calm that comes from releasing the neurosis, putting down the preoccupation and relaxing for one day.

You’ll be glad you did.

Running Late

Sunday Morning LatenessOur family isn’t always late to church…just MOSTLY late to church.

But we aren’t the only ones.  This past week, I found my parking spot at 11:02 and started walking toward the massive building.  There were still cars pulling into the parking lot and I was surrounded by nearly 100 other people who were also in the process of locking their cars, gathering their coffee mugs and making the trek to the sanctuary.

Once inside and seated by my family, we sang some songs and said a prayer or two and watched a video.  I looked over to the main door and another two-dozen people were waiting to enter the auditorium.  I looked at my watch at it was twenty minutes after the hour.

The casual “strolling in” just shocks me.  There are very few events where this is the norm.

People don’t come late to the movies.  They are there early, get their popcorn and soda and enjoy the previews.

People rarely come late to weddings or funerals.

They don’t stroll in for job interviews or court dates.

They show up for dinner dates, concerts, football games and TV shows.  These things matter and they are there on time.  But amazingly, for a few folks, missing a third of the service doesn’t seem to bother them.

The thing that stood out more than the tardiness is the sheer number of people who are late each week.  Some churches would be thrilled to have as many people in there pews as are late each week to my church.

In my early life, I served a little country church that had 16 people show up on a good Sunday.  We wouldn’t have known what to do with 100 people if they’d walked in the door, early or late!

The church we attend today is a monster.  Multiple-thousands of people fill the seats each week.  Multiple services, in multiple locations provide a variety of attendance options over the weekend.  Thousands of kids attend the children’s programs.  Up to 100 people might be involved planning and performing a single weekend service.  So a few stragglers may not seem to be too out of range when you consider the percent of total attenders who are in place ready to participate from week to week.

And some day, if all things go well, we’ll be on time, too.

 

 

A Big Night for Ben

I’m so very proud of my son.

This was a great way to end his high school band career.  He was given the opportunity to spend time along side amazing and talented teachers and I am so thankful all those who made it possible.  It will be an experience that he will never forget.

Location, Location, Location

IMG_3959
The Dogwood is now one of the most beautiful ornamental trees in our yard each spring.

Several years ago I purchased a Dogwood tree for my wife’s Mother’s Day present.  She was thrilled as it is one of her favorites.  We planted the little sprout in the front corner of our yard, hoping that one day it would be the show piece of our yard.

Despite following the instructions for planting and care, the little tree failed to grow.  It never looked like it was going to die but after its second year without flowers and any sign of growth, I went to our local garden center.

I explained the situation and the wise gardener behind the counter asked one, simple question.

“Is it planted on the south-east corner of your house in full sun?” he asked with a slight squint of his eyes.

Now, I’m a pretty smart guy but I had to stop and think of where the sun set and the direction I drove to work before I could answer his question.  When I confirmed that this, in fact, was the location of the tree, he answered with confidence.

“They hate to be exposed.  They like to be tucked back in the protection of your house or other trees.  You need to move it to the north-east corner of your lot.”

And so I took his advice and moved the little shrub, hoping that I didn’t wait too long.  I tucked it back behind the house, near our pine tree.  It now lives in

And here is the thing:  The very next year we saw flowers for the first time.  The year after that, we had new growth sprouting from its branches.  Each year brought more exciting changes to the little tree.  This year is it’s best ever.  The limbs are filled with full, bright flowers.  There are many new shoots poking out in all directions just waiting for the day that leaves will provide a fantastic canopy of shade.

As I took in the amazing blooms yesterday, I realized that we are a lot like this old Dogwood.  Some of us thrive when we are in the spot light.  There are those of us who prefer to stand out, bold and loud.  But there are some of us who do best when we can be out of the public view, most beautiful when we are left to our own devices.  Growing best when we are tucked into a safe place, rarely noticed until we are in full bloom.

What location do you prefer?  Where should you be planted?  Where do you produce your most beautiful flowers?

Up Close and Personal

Museums, aquariums, and arboretums allow us the wonderful opportunity to get closer to things we usually view from a distance.  But we enjoy the experience only if we will open our eyes to what surrounds us.

Rare BirdWhen you pay attention to the detail, you see things differently.  Typically, we view a sky full of black dots and see nothing more than a few black birds flying high overhead.  But when one lands next to you, perches on the branch close to your bench, you are suddenly face-to-face with one, lone bird and it changes your perspective for ever.  Bird SongIf you look closely, you will witness the gloss and shine of individual feathers.  When you lean closer, you make eye contact.  The eyes watch you warily.  The head cocks, the beak opens and a song erupts, bright and loud.  You are privileged to hear the amazing sound of of an individual song, sung at a pitch and volume that awakens the soul and enlivens the heart.

Yellow TangWhen you are intentional in your viewing, you no longer see a pond as just another body of water.  Instead, it is teaming with life that longs to be examined.  If you pay attention, you see new colors and fantastic brilliance.  You witness life interacting with life.  clown fishYou celebrate the vibrancy of the patterns and the magical movement that is as fluid as the medium containing this fantastic show.

I so enjoy the close-up view.  The experience is a gentle reminder of the need to take this same approach with the people in our lives.  We would benefit from looking at our brothers and sisters in the same way we examine a magpie or a clown fish.  Those co-workers who share our 40-hour work week rarely receive a closer look.  We’re continent to see them from the 10,000 foot level, keeping their unique lives as distant from our own as possible.

102_3782We rarely listen to the songs they sing, view the colors of their lives that make them unique, or understand the stories that make them one-of-a-kind.

It’s an unfortunate reality of our life together.  There are so many wonders in this world and some of them, our neighbors, our coworkers and friends, are closer than we can imagine.  We would see them all in a whole new way…if only we would open our eyes.

Never Enough Space Food

Hundreds of space ice cream packets line the shelves of Space Center, Houston.
Hundreds of space ice cream packets line the shelves of Space Center, Houston.

As a young boy, I had a strong desire to be an astronaut.  There were two very important parts of the space program that had an impact on my desire:  Tang and Space Ice Cream.

A visit to Space Center, Houston didn’t do anything to reduce that desire.

Standing in the gift shop, looking at cheesy t-shirts and coffee mugs, I came upon my muse and stood there, mouth agape.  Row upon row of space ice cream stood there, taunting me; calling me to don a space helmet and do the moon walk.

I have a good life.  My dog loves me.  My family understands me.  My job is challenging.  My coworkers are entertaining.  But, as I stood there, gazing at the sweets, I realized I would give it all up for the opportunity to drink the orangery, sugary Tang and eat that powdery, sugary ice cream and bounce along the lunar surface.  And in that moment, I determined that I would look for the nearest astronaut recruiting station.  There HAD to be one in this fun-house/museum.

But before I walked out of the gift shop, I realized I could just buy a pouch of the astronomic confection.

It’s that level of critical thinking of which NASA would have benefited.  Thankfully for my dog and family, $6 kept me on the ground for now.

The Start of Something Good

Houston Sunrise 2013.03.31Every so often you need a break.

This week will be one of those breaks as my son and his best friend and I travel to Houston, Texas for six days of fun.

We’ll see the Space Center (Thanks Katie).  We’ll experience the Aquarium.  We’ll be terrified by the traffic and thankful for green grass and flowers already blooming in March.

Most of all, my son and his friend will be thankful for their time with on-line friends seen face-to-face for the first time.  That’s really the reason we are here in the deep south.

My joy is found in getting to spend time with two great young men for six warm, sunny days.

We all need a break from time to time.  But the break doesn’t always require travel to distant places.  In fact, there are times when the break can be as simple as finding a respite during the hectic day, discovering a quiet evening during our busy week, experiencing time with dear friends that renews and rejuvenates our souls, rekindles our spirits, refreshes our souls.

What will you do this week to enjoy a break?  Will you attend a yoga class?  Will you enjoy a cup of tea in a quiet corner of your house?  Will you go for a short walk away from your desk?  Pet a dog?  Listen to a child laugh?  Marvel at a sunrise or sunset?

What will you do for a break?

 

Why Church? Oh, Yeah! That’s Why!

IMG_3541[1]A few days ago I asked the question, “Why church?”  The question was specifically asked in an effort to think about the purpose of our weekly gatherings.

Several folks gave their opinions on this question and I really appreciate the insights.  Interestingly, there was a common theme among those responses:  The worst part of church is the people who sit in the pews.  But one of the best parts of church can actually be the people who sit in the pews.

When we are at our worst, we repel those who seek acceptance and love.

When we are at our best, we can love one another into the presence of God.

Earlier this week I attended a service at my church that truly challenged my tainted view of the church.  On a cold Monday night, more than 1000 people came together to do two important things:  They sang and they prayed.

There was no other agenda.  There was no sermon.  There was no offering.  There was no drama, video or skit.  In the 90 minutes of this service, people of every shape, size, religious background and spiritual flavor huddled around the auditorium to pray for others.  They prayed for healing.  They prayed for family.  They prayed for strength.

But most of all, they did did church right.

And when I left that service, I was reminded that church is about communion with others in the presence of God.  Church is about serving those in need.  Church is about finding direction and following the path.

Sure, people can ruin the dream.  But that can be said for anything; whether the office, the playground or the sanctuary.

But church doesn’t have to be about people.  In fact, it should never be about the people.

And that’s the real answer to my original question, isn’t it?