Dear Friends in Christ -
I spent a some time today with a group of women with whom I've prayed for over a decade. We have celebrated each of the last dozen (or so) Christmases the same way . . . gathering on a Saturday a couple of weeks before Christmas for prayer, food, fellowship and laughter.
The wonder-full thing about this wonderful, meaningful Christmas tradition is that I didn't "choose" this group. God chose it for me, before I even knew I would ever be living in New England.
Many years ago, in Salem, Oregon, two ladies from my church invited me to tea - and then asked me if I would like to join the prayer group they were a part of. They explained that their small group was connected to a larger, international group based in Massachusetts. While I liked the idea of being connected to a prayerful group of women around the world, I didn't give much thought to what it might be like to actually meet or spend time with those women. I was just enjoying the company of the women in Salem.
Then I moved. All the way across the country. To New Haven, a town I had visited once (for two hours) more than a decade before. I didn't know a soul. But, lo and behold, there was a prayer group (part of our network) in New Haven. They took me in.
Each Christmas, as we gather to pray, eat, talk and laugh, I remember the wonder of the season: that God has a plan, a plan for us - to save, to comfort, to love. Amazing.
Faithfully,
Janet+
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Friday, December 12, 2008
A visual meditation on wonder
Dear Friends in Christ -
I hope you enjoy this beautiful, leisurely meditation on wonder . . .
http://wonderofitall.com
Blessings,
Janet+
I hope you enjoy this beautiful, leisurely meditation on wonder . . .
http://wonderofitall.com
Blessings,
Janet+
Thursday, December 11, 2008
1 Corinthians 13 - Christmas Style
Dear Friends in Christ -
Today, as I was wondering what else to share about "wonder," this wonder-full adaptation of a well-known passage of Scripture appeared in my email in-box. I found it humbling and encouraging. May it stir your heart, too.
Blessings,
Janet+
1 Corinthians 13 -- Christmas Style
©By Sharon Jaynes
If I decorate my house perfectly with lovely plaid bows, strands of twinkling lights, and shiny glass balls, but do not show love to my family - I'm just another decorator. If I slave away in the kitchen, baking dozens of Christmas cookies, preparing gourmet meals, and arranging a beautifully adorned table at mealtime, but do not show love to my family - I'm just another cook. If I work at the soup kitchen, carol in the nursing home, and give all that I have to charity, but do not show love to my family - it profits me nothing. If I trim the spruce with shimmering angels and crocheted snowflakes, attend a myriad of holiday parties, and sing in the choir's cantata but do not focus on Christ, I have missed the point. Love stops the cooking to hug the child. Love sets aside the decorating to kiss the husband. Love is kind, though harried and tired. Love doesn't envy another home that has coordinated Christmas china and table linens. Love doesn't yell at the kids to get out of the way. Love doesn't give only to those who are able to give in return, but rejoices in giving to those who can't. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, and endures all things. Love never fails. Video games will break; pearl necklaces will be lost; golf clubs will rust. But giving the gift of love will endure.
Today, as I was wondering what else to share about "wonder," this wonder-full adaptation of a well-known passage of Scripture appeared in my email in-box. I found it humbling and encouraging. May it stir your heart, too.
Blessings,
Janet+
1 Corinthians 13 -- Christmas Style
©By Sharon Jaynes
If I decorate my house perfectly with lovely plaid bows, strands of twinkling lights, and shiny glass balls, but do not show love to my family - I'm just another decorator. If I slave away in the kitchen, baking dozens of Christmas cookies, preparing gourmet meals, and arranging a beautifully adorned table at mealtime, but do not show love to my family - I'm just another cook. If I work at the soup kitchen, carol in the nursing home, and give all that I have to charity, but do not show love to my family - it profits me nothing. If I trim the spruce with shimmering angels and crocheted snowflakes, attend a myriad of holiday parties, and sing in the choir's cantata but do not focus on Christ, I have missed the point. Love stops the cooking to hug the child. Love sets aside the decorating to kiss the husband. Love is kind, though harried and tired. Love doesn't envy another home that has coordinated Christmas china and table linens. Love doesn't yell at the kids to get out of the way. Love doesn't give only to those who are able to give in return, but rejoices in giving to those who can't. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, and endures all things. Love never fails. Video games will break; pearl necklaces will be lost; golf clubs will rust. But giving the gift of love will endure.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
About . . . wonder
"What I Know for Sure," by Bob Hicok
Some people, told of witness trees,
pause in chopping a carrot
or loosening a lug nut and ask,
witness to what? So while salad
is made, or getting from A to B
is repaired, these people
listen to the story
of the Burnside Bridge sycamore,
alive at Antietam, bloodiest day
of the war, or the Appomattox Court House
honey locust, just coming to leaf
as Lee surrendered, and say, at the end,
Cool. Then the chopping
continues with its two sounds,
the slight snap to the separation
of carrot from carrot, the harder crack
of knife against cutting board,
or the sigh, also slight, of a lug nut
as it's tightened against a wheel. In time,
these people put their hands
under water and say, not so much to you
but to the window in front of the sink,
Think of all the things
trees have seen. Then it's time
for dinner, or to leave, and a month passes,
or a year, before two fawns
cross in front of the car, or the man
you've just given a dollar to
lifts his shirt to the start
of the 23rd psalm tattooed
to his chest, "The Lord is my shepherd,
I shall not want," when some people
say, I feel like one of those trees,
you know? And you do know.
You make a good salad, change
a wicked tire, you're one of those people,
watching, listening, a witness
to whatever this is,
for as long as it is
amazing, isn't it, that I could call you
right now and say, They still
can't talk to dolphins
but are closer, as I still
can't say everything I want to
but am closer, for trying, to God,
if you must, to spirit, if you will,
to what's never easy for people
like us: life, breath, the sheer volume
of wonder.
Bob Hicok is the author of This Clumsy Living (University of Pittsburgh Press) and associate professor of English at Virginia Tech.
Some people, told of witness trees,
pause in chopping a carrot
or loosening a lug nut and ask,
witness to what? So while salad
is made, or getting from A to B
is repaired, these people
listen to the story
of the Burnside Bridge sycamore,
alive at Antietam, bloodiest day
of the war, or the Appomattox Court House
honey locust, just coming to leaf
as Lee surrendered, and say, at the end,
Cool. Then the chopping
continues with its two sounds,
the slight snap to the separation
of carrot from carrot, the harder crack
of knife against cutting board,
or the sigh, also slight, of a lug nut
as it's tightened against a wheel. In time,
these people put their hands
under water and say, not so much to you
but to the window in front of the sink,
Think of all the things
trees have seen. Then it's time
for dinner, or to leave, and a month passes,
or a year, before two fawns
cross in front of the car, or the man
you've just given a dollar to
lifts his shirt to the start
of the 23rd psalm tattooed
to his chest, "The Lord is my shepherd,
I shall not want," when some people
say, I feel like one of those trees,
you know? And you do know.
You make a good salad, change
a wicked tire, you're one of those people,
watching, listening, a witness
to whatever this is,
for as long as it is
amazing, isn't it, that I could call you
right now and say, They still
can't talk to dolphins
but are closer, as I still
can't say everything I want to
but am closer, for trying, to God,
if you must, to spirit, if you will,
to what's never easy for people
like us: life, breath, the sheer volume
of wonder.
Bob Hicok is the author of This Clumsy Living (University of Pittsburgh Press) and associate professor of English at Virginia Tech.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Guiding Star
"O Star of wonder, Star of night
Star with royal beauty bright
Westward leading, still proceeding,
Guide us to thy Perfect Light."
--- The Rev. John Henry Hopkins
Star with royal beauty bright
Westward leading, still proceeding,
Guide us to thy Perfect Light."
--- The Rev. John Henry Hopkins
Monday, December 8, 2008
Wonder
Dear Friends in Christ -
For me, this second week of Advent is shaping up to be about wonder - giving my attention to marvels and miracles. in the midst of grey almost-winter days.
It's interesting to me that we also use the word "wonder" in more pedestrian way . . . "I wonder what's for dinner?" When we use the word this way, we mean "I'm curious to know" . . .
During these days of Advent, I wonder about wonder . . . I'm curious to know more marvels and miracles. So I'm taking a few extra moments today, just to pause, and to play, and to listen. Because I sense that there is so much out there, in the world, in God, in me, in you, that is marvelous and miraculous. And THAT I don't want to miss.
Faithfully,
Janet+
For me, this second week of Advent is shaping up to be about wonder - giving my attention to marvels and miracles. in the midst of grey almost-winter days.
It's interesting to me that we also use the word "wonder" in more pedestrian way . . . "I wonder what's for dinner?" When we use the word this way, we mean "I'm curious to know" . . .
During these days of Advent, I wonder about wonder . . . I'm curious to know more marvels and miracles. So I'm taking a few extra moments today, just to pause, and to play, and to listen. Because I sense that there is so much out there, in the world, in God, in me, in you, that is marvelous and miraculous. And THAT I don't want to miss.
Faithfully,
Janet+
Sunday, December 7, 2008
A Prayer for Pearl Harbor Day
Lord God: May the heroic example of our Pearl Harbor defenders (67 years ago) cause us to look deep within ourselves to see what resources we might have to persevere as they did that morning. Grant, we pray, joy and fulfillment to those few still living, and for those who are at rest, Lord, grant thy peace. Amen.
(adapted from a prayer by Lee Axtell, command chaplain)
(adapted from a prayer by Lee Axtell, command chaplain)
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