Over the past few years, I have tried to take time to name ten blessings of the day. I think that the idea is that I am supposed to do this every single day. Sometimes I am pretty consistent; other times I have forgotten, often for days at a time. However, I think that it's a simple, and potentially powerful thing: just to take time to name ten blessings ever day.
I learned this practice from a member of my last parish. Harriet was a retired airline executive who had traveled all over the world. She was also the daughter of a minister who had grown up in a small town in Minnesota. When I met her, she lived within a few blocks of the church, in a small house decorated with Norwegian Rosemaling.
Harriet once gave a moving Adult Forum on her travels, and how she found a place to worship no matter where she was in the world. Her Forum was called "The communion of Saints."
I say that I learned this practice from Harriet, but it was not until near the end of her life that I learned it. Fiercely independent, she found herself in a nursing home. When I was planning to visit her with communion, her executor told me that Harriet had this faith practice. Every day she named ten blessings.
"Make sure you remind her to do this when you go to visit her," she said.
So I did. I got out my communion, and I went to visit Harriet at the nursing home where she didn't want to be. We talked, we shared communion, and I asked her what her ten blessings would be that day.
When you are living in a nursing home, it's not so easy to find the blessings. She had to think about it for a bit, and be creative, and resort to the simplest things, like being alive. I remember that one of her blessings that day was a box of chocolate.
Ten blessings. Every day. I have never read about it in any book. It's so simple. Anyone can do it. If you can count to ten, you can name ten blessings.
The Jesuits have a practice called "seeing God in all things." Somehow I think this practice relates to that one. There are times and places where it is easy to see God. But in all things? How do you do that? Start by naming ten blessings, wherever you find them.
A woman who lived close to my church lost her home to a fire. We took up a collection to help her. When I called her on the phone (I didn't know her personally), she said that the fire was, "the worst blessing." I was taken aback. She said the blessing was in the outpouring of care from her neighbors. She saw God in all things, although I am not sure how she managed it.
When I think of Harriet's life, I think of the ways she was blessed. She was a pastor's daughter from a small town, and she ended up traveling around the world. But she never married, and I suspect sometimes she was lonely. She had blessings and she had burdens.
And every day she named ten blessings. Maybe some days they were so small they didn't seem like blessings. Maybe other days she could have named twenty.
But at her funeral I claimed the promise of the saints: the promise that they have received more blessings than they can count, more than the stars they cannot see. We can't hold that promise in our hand, but we can name ten blessings.
Every single day.
Showing posts with label blessings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blessings. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 21, 2018
Sunday, September 14, 2014
Signs from God
It's a quiet evening at home. I'm sitting in the bedroom, reading and thinking and relaxing. I can hear the television in the living room. It's a re-run of the old show, "The King of Queens". I recognize the plot. It's a flashback episode, the one where Doug and Carrie are recalling their engagement and the days leading up to their wedding.
In the episode, Carrie says "yes" to Doug, of course, but now she is having fits of anxiety so severe that they make her literally sick to her stomach. She loves Doug, but she is plagued by doubts, until they visit the priest, and he remembers that Doug and Carrie met once when they were children at summer camp. They were on a hay ride together, the priest recalls, and Doug fell on top of Carrie (or did Carrie fall on top of Doug? I don't quite remember).
All of a sudden, Carrie is calm and relaxed, no longer anxious and sick. The story of their accidental childhood meeting is proof that they were "meant to be".
It is a sign from God.
Now I'm thinking back to the very last of our summer outdoor worship services, called "Picnic Church." It seems so long ago now, but it really was only a couple of weeks ago that we held our last Wednesday evening service on the lawn, complete with hot dogs.
It was a lovely summer night, as all of our Wednesday were this summer. Not one rained-out-Wednesday for our summer experiment. It was a great end to the summer. Even though we had a different guitarist for our last two Wednesdays, our substitute's name was Jesus. You can't do any better than Jesus for a substitute guitarist. And he taught us the chorus to a great song, "Montana." We all danced on the lawn.
My message that evening was all about God-sightings. I talked about learning to see God in our lives, and to tell about it, and asked people if they had seen God around lately. We had asked the same question the week before, and there was this uncomfortable pause.
"Have you seen God around anywhere lately?"
No one said anything.
But tonight was different. They had seen God around lately, and suddenly (I was proud to say), people weren't afraid to tell about it. They had seen God around every Wednesday, those impossibly sunny and beautiful Wednesday evenings, when it never rained and there were not mosquitos. They had seen God in other places too, but we kept going back to the lack of mosquitos and the fact that EVERY SINGLE Wednesday had been nice. And every week, the people just kept coming back, more and more of them, for food, for worship, for community.
It was a sign from God.
It is hard to argue with that, especially in this neck of the woods. It does seem like a minor miracle for every single Wednesday evening this summer to be sunny. It must have been a sign from God, a sign that God had blessed our summer plans to reach out beyond our doors.
It was meant to be.
Signs from God are tricky things, though.
I can hear the TV in the background again, the return of the episode from The King of Queens.
As it turns out, the story about Doug and Carrie meeting when they were children: it wasn't true. It was actually Doug's cousin Danny that Carrie had met at summer camp. Doug knew it, but he was afraid to tell Carrie that there was no sign from God. It was just him, only Doug, loving her, asking her to marry him. That was the sign.
Signs from God are tricky things. A sunny day, a chance meeting, a memory of dancing on the lawn: they are all good things, for which we should rejoice and give thanks. It was meant to be. God is working through this sun, this dance, this meeting.
But then, what does the rain mean? What do the tears, the two left feet, the failures and the missed opportunities mean? That it was not meant to be?
Signs from God are tricky things.
Even when it rains, even when there are mosquitos, even when you have two skinned knees because dancing on the lawn didn't go the way you planned:
Don't give up.
It was meant to be. You were meant to dance, to share your food, to be merciful. For better or for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health.
Say "yes."
In the episode, Carrie says "yes" to Doug, of course, but now she is having fits of anxiety so severe that they make her literally sick to her stomach. She loves Doug, but she is plagued by doubts, until they visit the priest, and he remembers that Doug and Carrie met once when they were children at summer camp. They were on a hay ride together, the priest recalls, and Doug fell on top of Carrie (or did Carrie fall on top of Doug? I don't quite remember). All of a sudden, Carrie is calm and relaxed, no longer anxious and sick. The story of their accidental childhood meeting is proof that they were "meant to be".
It is a sign from God.
Now I'm thinking back to the very last of our summer outdoor worship services, called "Picnic Church." It seems so long ago now, but it really was only a couple of weeks ago that we held our last Wednesday evening service on the lawn, complete with hot dogs.
It was a lovely summer night, as all of our Wednesday were this summer. Not one rained-out-Wednesday for our summer experiment. It was a great end to the summer. Even though we had a different guitarist for our last two Wednesdays, our substitute's name was Jesus. You can't do any better than Jesus for a substitute guitarist. And he taught us the chorus to a great song, "Montana." We all danced on the lawn.
My message that evening was all about God-sightings. I talked about learning to see God in our lives, and to tell about it, and asked people if they had seen God around lately. We had asked the same question the week before, and there was this uncomfortable pause.
"Have you seen God around anywhere lately?"
No one said anything.
But tonight was different. They had seen God around lately, and suddenly (I was proud to say), people weren't afraid to tell about it. They had seen God around every Wednesday, those impossibly sunny and beautiful Wednesday evenings, when it never rained and there were not mosquitos. They had seen God in other places too, but we kept going back to the lack of mosquitos and the fact that EVERY SINGLE Wednesday had been nice. And every week, the people just kept coming back, more and more of them, for food, for worship, for community.
It was a sign from God.
It is hard to argue with that, especially in this neck of the woods. It does seem like a minor miracle for every single Wednesday evening this summer to be sunny. It must have been a sign from God, a sign that God had blessed our summer plans to reach out beyond our doors.
It was meant to be.
Signs from God are tricky things, though.
I can hear the TV in the background again, the return of the episode from The King of Queens.
As it turns out, the story about Doug and Carrie meeting when they were children: it wasn't true. It was actually Doug's cousin Danny that Carrie had met at summer camp. Doug knew it, but he was afraid to tell Carrie that there was no sign from God. It was just him, only Doug, loving her, asking her to marry him. That was the sign.
Signs from God are tricky things. A sunny day, a chance meeting, a memory of dancing on the lawn: they are all good things, for which we should rejoice and give thanks. It was meant to be. God is working through this sun, this dance, this meeting.
But then, what does the rain mean? What do the tears, the two left feet, the failures and the missed opportunities mean? That it was not meant to be?
Signs from God are tricky things.
Even when it rains, even when there are mosquitos, even when you have two skinned knees because dancing on the lawn didn't go the way you planned:
Don't give up.
It was meant to be. You were meant to dance, to share your food, to be merciful. For better or for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health.
Say "yes."
Monday, September 10, 2012
The Letter of James, and Me
I'm considering preaching on the letter of James this weekend.
There's this great imagery about the power of the tongue: how our words matter, whether we uses our tongues for blessing and cursing. The author compares the tongue to the rudder of a ship, small but instrumental to the direction the ship is going.
This strikes me as true, in an era when we are drenched in words: written words, spoken words, words over the internet, words over email, words in political ads, words in advertising, words of persuasion, words of critique. Blessing and cursing, clarifying and muddying the waters. What we say to one another, what we say about one another matters.
I'm considering preaching on the letter of James this weekend, because I'm drawn to this particular reading at this particular season, but I have to say: I have sort of a complicated relationship to this letter, and its teachings.
Perhaps it's because I'm Lutheran, and Luther once called the letter of James "an epistle of straw." It was not his favorite part of Scripture. (He wasn't a big fan of The Revelation, either, but that didn't stop him from calling the pope 'the anti-christ.') If you read parts of James, you can't help but get the feeling that James is responding personally and directly to the apostle Paul in some places, especially in his comments regarding whether one is 'saved by faith'. (This might say something about my personality, but I find myself wanting to mediate their disagreement, saying, "James, I think you might be misunderstanding what Paul is really saying here." and "Paul, here is where James is concerned about your point of view.")
Perhaps it's because, much as I find wisdom in James' letter, and as much as agree with him, I also find the mirror he holds up to me, to us, a little too much to bear, sometimes.
So, I love the imagery about the tongue being like the rudder on a ship.
Then I think of James' words, "Out of the same mouth come blessing and cursing. Brothers and sisters, it should not be so."
But it is so. Brothers and sisters, parents and children, pastors and civil servants, teachers and custodians and neighbors, liberals and conservatives, out of our mouths come blessing and cursing.
It should not be so. But it is.
Even these many years later, I still remember some family friends who I overheard saying that my sister was "the pretty one." I know that words have the power to shape our reality, not just describe it. I remember a tall girl in our school that other children used to taunt and call "daddy long legs." I didn't speak up; I held my tongue when it could have been a powerful instrument. And I've said dumb things and mean things to people too. I'm not just talking about expressing a political opinion that some others disagree with. I still remember long ago, in one of my fervent religious phases, writing a letter to my aunt and uncle where I said some pretty condescending things about their faith. I still can't believe that they forgave me. I guess they love me.
So what should I do with this great insight and wisdom of James? Certainly understand the power in blessings and cursing, the power in our words to one another to shape reality and not just describe it.
But much as I love James, I also want to hear the word of one who shapes my reality instead of just describing it.
"Let there be light," he said. "And there was light."
"Your sins are forgiven," he says.
I have a complicated relationship with the letter to James. He is wise. But he never says, "Your sins are forgiven."
There's this great imagery about the power of the tongue: how our words matter, whether we uses our tongues for blessing and cursing. The author compares the tongue to the rudder of a ship, small but instrumental to the direction the ship is going.
This strikes me as true, in an era when we are drenched in words: written words, spoken words, words over the internet, words over email, words in political ads, words in advertising, words of persuasion, words of critique. Blessing and cursing, clarifying and muddying the waters. What we say to one another, what we say about one another matters.
I'm considering preaching on the letter of James this weekend, because I'm drawn to this particular reading at this particular season, but I have to say: I have sort of a complicated relationship to this letter, and its teachings.
Perhaps it's because I'm Lutheran, and Luther once called the letter of James "an epistle of straw." It was not his favorite part of Scripture. (He wasn't a big fan of The Revelation, either, but that didn't stop him from calling the pope 'the anti-christ.') If you read parts of James, you can't help but get the feeling that James is responding personally and directly to the apostle Paul in some places, especially in his comments regarding whether one is 'saved by faith'. (This might say something about my personality, but I find myself wanting to mediate their disagreement, saying, "James, I think you might be misunderstanding what Paul is really saying here." and "Paul, here is where James is concerned about your point of view.")
Perhaps it's because, much as I find wisdom in James' letter, and as much as agree with him, I also find the mirror he holds up to me, to us, a little too much to bear, sometimes.
So, I love the imagery about the tongue being like the rudder on a ship.
Then I think of James' words, "Out of the same mouth come blessing and cursing. Brothers and sisters, it should not be so."
But it is so. Brothers and sisters, parents and children, pastors and civil servants, teachers and custodians and neighbors, liberals and conservatives, out of our mouths come blessing and cursing.
It should not be so. But it is.
Even these many years later, I still remember some family friends who I overheard saying that my sister was "the pretty one." I know that words have the power to shape our reality, not just describe it. I remember a tall girl in our school that other children used to taunt and call "daddy long legs." I didn't speak up; I held my tongue when it could have been a powerful instrument. And I've said dumb things and mean things to people too. I'm not just talking about expressing a political opinion that some others disagree with. I still remember long ago, in one of my fervent religious phases, writing a letter to my aunt and uncle where I said some pretty condescending things about their faith. I still can't believe that they forgave me. I guess they love me.
So what should I do with this great insight and wisdom of James? Certainly understand the power in blessings and cursing, the power in our words to one another to shape reality and not just describe it.
But much as I love James, I also want to hear the word of one who shapes my reality instead of just describing it.
"Let there be light," he said. "And there was light."
"Your sins are forgiven," he says.
I have a complicated relationship with the letter to James. He is wise. But he never says, "Your sins are forgiven."
Monday, July 23, 2012
"Blessed Saints" -- a funeral sermon for Harriet Wrolstad
I meant to post this back in April
I thought I knew Harriet Wrolstad pretty well: she was one of the first people I met when I arrived here several years ago, and she didn't waste much time having me over to her house for coffee. Perhaps it was because at the time, we were both single women; perhaps it was the fact that I had lived in Japan for a while. Whatever it was, I thought I knew Harriet pretty well, but in these last few months I discovered something I hadn't known before, a devotional practice that she had: every day she would always take the time, usually before she went to bed, to recite ten blessings. I discovered this because Cathie made sure that I knew, so that I could do this with her when she was at the Augustana Home and at Mount Olivet Care Center. Perhaps some of you who visited her also took the time to name ten blessings of the day. I remember that she often named her friends and family -- and her birthday -- and her home -- among her chief blessings, although there was one time in December we had to give thanks for a Christmas present, a nice box of chocolates.
Today we are gathered to say goodbye to our sister in Christ, Harriet. We are here to celebrate her life and to mourn her death, to name the blessings that came our way because she was in our life. We are here to remember the promises of God for her, to give thanks for her presence with us, and to grieve her absence from us. One of my favorite writers, Gerhard Frost, once said that to mourn for someone is to pay them a great compliment; it is to give meaning and significance to their life. So, today, we say about Harriet, "You were an important person in my life. I'm different because I knew you."
So today we give thanks: of the pastor's daughter from Granite Falls who ended up traveling all over the world. We give thanks for a sister, daughter, aunt godmother and friend respected businesswoman and volunteer. We give thanks for Harriet's work with the Ebenezer Auxiliary, where she insisted that they sing "Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing," because of the line in verse 2 -- "Here I Raise My Ebenezer". By the way, the word "Ebenezer", which always causes many people to wonder, means "stone of help," and is a story from the 1st book of Samuel. It is a story of how the Israelites returned to God after a period of wandering, and how God gave them victory over their enemies, the Philistines. To remember this victory, and God's help, the judge Samuel had the people set up a stone -- called Ebenezer -- to remind them of God's victory, God's faithfulness to them. (There was a stone for each person who came to the luncheon.)
Today we give thanks for Harriet -- who would think to have a stone for each of us to carry back home with s today so that we can remember that God is faithful to us. That was the teacher in her, I suppose, I didn't know this, but she did teach English for a few years before she started her long career at Northwest Airlines. We give thanks for Harriet -- who valued education and wisdom, faith and learning, Norwegian and Lutheran heritage, family, friends, colleagues. We give thanks for Harriet, who was generous, loyal and opinionated, and who let me know more than once that she valued smartness in a pastor more than she valued niceness. We gives thanks for Harriet, who was faithful here in worship on Sunday morning and for Wednesday matins, and who counted her blessings. We give thanks for Harriet -- who was proud of the fact that she was the only employee of Northwest Airlines to have stayed overnight in every city to which the airline flew.
She was part of the communion of saints throughout the world, but, unlike many of us, she got to experience a little bit of it, and she LOVED to tell stories about it. And I think Harriet would say that she was blessed, not just blessed by world travel and opportunities, but blessed by friends and family -- and faith. She was blessed to be able to I've in Granite FAlls and in Tokyo, she was blessed in large ways and in small ways.
***
To be blessed -- to be a saint -- it's the same thing: did you know that? So if you are ever at a loss to describe what a saint is, here's the absolute truth: A saint is someone who is blessed. It's why we read the Beatitudes on All Saints Sunday. Blessed are the poor in spirit; blessed are the merciful. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. Blessed... when Jesus first spoke these words, at the beginning of the Sermon on the Mount, some of them might have been a great shock to the people who heard them. They would be thinking that you could tell those who were blessed by their material abundance, by the ease of their lives, by their success in worldly terms. But Jesus spoke and began ty lifting up the poor in spirit. I like how another translation puts it: "Blessed are those who know they need God." They are the saints.
Saints are the ones who knows they need God, who know they need the word of God, who know they need the promises of God in their lives. Saints are the ones whose stomachs are growling for a good word from God, and who are thirsty for the water only God can give.
A long while ago I visited with an old woman from my congregation. She was dying, and I came to give her communion. This woman was mostly past speaking at this point. She would fall asleep, and we would wake her up again. We read scripture and said prayers. And after communion, I raised my arms and I said the benediction, "May the Lord bless you and keep you/ May the Lord make his face shine on you and be gracious to you/ May the Lord look upon you with favor/And give you peace." And this woman looked up at me with a twinkle in her eye, and she said, "he did!" The Lord DID bless me and keep me all these years, she said. The Lord had blessed her through the hard years of the depression, and even in the time of the death of one of her children. The Lord had blessed her in times through times of scarcity and times of abundance. The Lord had blessed her.
She was a saint.
She was part of the communion of saints -- and so was Harriet and so are you and me. We are blessed. We are blessed not because of anything we have done and not because of anything we have accomplished, but because of God's goodness to us in Christ Jesus. We are blessed whether we have traveled around the world or spent most of our lives in Granite Falls, because of Christ's victory over death for us. We are blessed whether we are wise or foolish, in our grieving and in our joy. We are blessed because Jesus came here, and walked among us, healing and forgiving and feeding us. We are blessed because Jesus gave his body and blood for us. We are blessed because he is our "Eben-ezer", or stone of help, forgiving us and giving us new life again and again.
We are blessed because we are here today, singing together and praying together (and later on, eating together) and because God has given us to one another. And we are blessed because we will see one another again, when we gather at the throne of the Lamb, where our tears will be wiped away, where the table will be set, where God's arms will be open wide to us as they are open wide today to our sister Harriet.
Today, each day, we name ten blessings, the ones we can see: a box of chocolate, Swedish meatballs, Norwegian coffee, faithful friends, a smooth stone, water. Today we name ten blessings: our homes, our families, our faith, the mercy of God. But those are only the ones we can see with our eyes. With the eyes of the heart, we can see many more, as the old Norwegian song so well expresses:
O Blessed saints, now take your rest;
a thousand times may you be blest.
For keeping faith firm unto death and scorning worldly trust
For now you live at home with God
and harvest seeds once cast abroad
in tears and sighs, See with new eyes
the pattern in the seed.
The myriad angels raise their song,
O saints, sing with that happy throng.
Lift up one voice, let heaven rejoice
to our redeemer's song.
Go with God Harriet Sophia. May God's light ever surround you.
AMEN
I thought I knew Harriet Wrolstad pretty well: she was one of the first people I met when I arrived here several years ago, and she didn't waste much time having me over to her house for coffee. Perhaps it was because at the time, we were both single women; perhaps it was the fact that I had lived in Japan for a while. Whatever it was, I thought I knew Harriet pretty well, but in these last few months I discovered something I hadn't known before, a devotional practice that she had: every day she would always take the time, usually before she went to bed, to recite ten blessings. I discovered this because Cathie made sure that I knew, so that I could do this with her when she was at the Augustana Home and at Mount Olivet Care Center. Perhaps some of you who visited her also took the time to name ten blessings of the day. I remember that she often named her friends and family -- and her birthday -- and her home -- among her chief blessings, although there was one time in December we had to give thanks for a Christmas present, a nice box of chocolates.
Today we are gathered to say goodbye to our sister in Christ, Harriet. We are here to celebrate her life and to mourn her death, to name the blessings that came our way because she was in our life. We are here to remember the promises of God for her, to give thanks for her presence with us, and to grieve her absence from us. One of my favorite writers, Gerhard Frost, once said that to mourn for someone is to pay them a great compliment; it is to give meaning and significance to their life. So, today, we say about Harriet, "You were an important person in my life. I'm different because I knew you."
So today we give thanks: of the pastor's daughter from Granite Falls who ended up traveling all over the world. We give thanks for a sister, daughter, aunt godmother and friend respected businesswoman and volunteer. We give thanks for Harriet's work with the Ebenezer Auxiliary, where she insisted that they sing "Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing," because of the line in verse 2 -- "Here I Raise My Ebenezer". By the way, the word "Ebenezer", which always causes many people to wonder, means "stone of help," and is a story from the 1st book of Samuel. It is a story of how the Israelites returned to God after a period of wandering, and how God gave them victory over their enemies, the Philistines. To remember this victory, and God's help, the judge Samuel had the people set up a stone -- called Ebenezer -- to remind them of God's victory, God's faithfulness to them. (There was a stone for each person who came to the luncheon.)
Today we give thanks for Harriet -- who would think to have a stone for each of us to carry back home with s today so that we can remember that God is faithful to us. That was the teacher in her, I suppose, I didn't know this, but she did teach English for a few years before she started her long career at Northwest Airlines. We give thanks for Harriet -- who valued education and wisdom, faith and learning, Norwegian and Lutheran heritage, family, friends, colleagues. We give thanks for Harriet, who was generous, loyal and opinionated, and who let me know more than once that she valued smartness in a pastor more than she valued niceness. We gives thanks for Harriet, who was faithful here in worship on Sunday morning and for Wednesday matins, and who counted her blessings. We give thanks for Harriet -- who was proud of the fact that she was the only employee of Northwest Airlines to have stayed overnight in every city to which the airline flew.
She was part of the communion of saints throughout the world, but, unlike many of us, she got to experience a little bit of it, and she LOVED to tell stories about it. And I think Harriet would say that she was blessed, not just blessed by world travel and opportunities, but blessed by friends and family -- and faith. She was blessed to be able to I've in Granite FAlls and in Tokyo, she was blessed in large ways and in small ways.
***
To be blessed -- to be a saint -- it's the same thing: did you know that? So if you are ever at a loss to describe what a saint is, here's the absolute truth: A saint is someone who is blessed. It's why we read the Beatitudes on All Saints Sunday. Blessed are the poor in spirit; blessed are the merciful. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. Blessed... when Jesus first spoke these words, at the beginning of the Sermon on the Mount, some of them might have been a great shock to the people who heard them. They would be thinking that you could tell those who were blessed by their material abundance, by the ease of their lives, by their success in worldly terms. But Jesus spoke and began ty lifting up the poor in spirit. I like how another translation puts it: "Blessed are those who know they need God." They are the saints.
Saints are the ones who knows they need God, who know they need the word of God, who know they need the promises of God in their lives. Saints are the ones whose stomachs are growling for a good word from God, and who are thirsty for the water only God can give.
A long while ago I visited with an old woman from my congregation. She was dying, and I came to give her communion. This woman was mostly past speaking at this point. She would fall asleep, and we would wake her up again. We read scripture and said prayers. And after communion, I raised my arms and I said the benediction, "May the Lord bless you and keep you/ May the Lord make his face shine on you and be gracious to you/ May the Lord look upon you with favor/And give you peace." And this woman looked up at me with a twinkle in her eye, and she said, "he did!" The Lord DID bless me and keep me all these years, she said. The Lord had blessed her through the hard years of the depression, and even in the time of the death of one of her children. The Lord had blessed her in times through times of scarcity and times of abundance. The Lord had blessed her.
She was a saint.
She was part of the communion of saints -- and so was Harriet and so are you and me. We are blessed. We are blessed not because of anything we have done and not because of anything we have accomplished, but because of God's goodness to us in Christ Jesus. We are blessed whether we have traveled around the world or spent most of our lives in Granite Falls, because of Christ's victory over death for us. We are blessed whether we are wise or foolish, in our grieving and in our joy. We are blessed because Jesus came here, and walked among us, healing and forgiving and feeding us. We are blessed because Jesus gave his body and blood for us. We are blessed because he is our "Eben-ezer", or stone of help, forgiving us and giving us new life again and again.
We are blessed because we are here today, singing together and praying together (and later on, eating together) and because God has given us to one another. And we are blessed because we will see one another again, when we gather at the throne of the Lamb, where our tears will be wiped away, where the table will be set, where God's arms will be open wide to us as they are open wide today to our sister Harriet.
Today, each day, we name ten blessings, the ones we can see: a box of chocolate, Swedish meatballs, Norwegian coffee, faithful friends, a smooth stone, water. Today we name ten blessings: our homes, our families, our faith, the mercy of God. But those are only the ones we can see with our eyes. With the eyes of the heart, we can see many more, as the old Norwegian song so well expresses:
O Blessed saints, now take your rest;
a thousand times may you be blest.
For keeping faith firm unto death and scorning worldly trust
For now you live at home with God
and harvest seeds once cast abroad
in tears and sighs, See with new eyes
the pattern in the seed.
The myriad angels raise their song,
O saints, sing with that happy throng.
Lift up one voice, let heaven rejoice
to our redeemer's song.
Go with God Harriet Sophia. May God's light ever surround you.
AMEN
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Counting My Blessings
I've been dismayed lately by my inability to get much of anything down in writing (other than sermons, and funeral sermons), so I thought I'd break the ice by counting a few of my blessings:
1. I am re-reading A Wrinkle in Time
from a hard-cover first edition (it's from the church library, with marks and everything so it's not worth anything, but still, it's cool.)
2. I have a little Christmas money from my husband to buy an old book, if I want to.....
3. I got an invitation to subscribe to "Poets and Writers" magazine today: at a discount rate, because I am "part of the writing community." Seriously.
4. I got a card from a friend who lives in China today, as well. Do you know how rare it is to get actual mail that isn't advertising or bills? Mail that has your name handwritten on it? This is a blessing.
5. When I say to my dog, "sit", she sits. When I say to my dog, "stay", she stays.
6. The aforementioned dog smiles a lot, and also likes to run in the snow.
7. I have not killed the Christmas poinsettia, yet.
8. I actually have more yarn than I need.
9. I can sing. That's a really really big deal.
10. There is oatmeal in the cupboard, there is orange juice in the refrigerator, and there are bananas and granola as well. What else do I need?
11. At Bible Study today, a man told a story: when his wife was dying, she asked him what time it was. He looked at the clock and saw that it was 3:16. So he recited John 3:16: "For God so loved the world that he gave his only son..." a good example of the difference between chronos and kairos, no?
12. It is better to light a single candle than to curse the dark.
1. I am re-reading A Wrinkle in Time
from a hard-cover first edition (it's from the church library, with marks and everything so it's not worth anything, but still, it's cool.)2. I have a little Christmas money from my husband to buy an old book, if I want to.....
3. I got an invitation to subscribe to "Poets and Writers" magazine today: at a discount rate, because I am "part of the writing community." Seriously.
4. I got a card from a friend who lives in China today, as well. Do you know how rare it is to get actual mail that isn't advertising or bills? Mail that has your name handwritten on it? This is a blessing.
5. When I say to my dog, "sit", she sits. When I say to my dog, "stay", she stays.
6. The aforementioned dog smiles a lot, and also likes to run in the snow.
7. I have not killed the Christmas poinsettia, yet.
8. I actually have more yarn than I need.
9. I can sing. That's a really really big deal.
10. There is oatmeal in the cupboard, there is orange juice in the refrigerator, and there are bananas and granola as well. What else do I need?
11. At Bible Study today, a man told a story: when his wife was dying, she asked him what time it was. He looked at the clock and saw that it was 3:16. So he recited John 3:16: "For God so loved the world that he gave his only son..." a good example of the difference between chronos and kairos, no?
12. It is better to light a single candle than to curse the dark.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)