My New Favorite Devotional Book

I have used a lot of different devotional books in my day, with varying degrees of success.  I remember being enamored, long ago when I was in college and sort of a Jesus-fanatic, of a classic called God Calling, which I read more-or-less faithfully for awhile.  (I don't remember how long.)  God Calling was supposed to be the Voice of God, coming directly to me, and all of the other people who bought the book, as well.  I also vaguely remember a book called "Come Away, My Beloved".  The title makes alone time with God seem sort of, well, seductive, in a way.  I don't remember if the contents of the book delivered on that promise.

Then there was the task of finding a daily Bible reading.  It seemed so simple back then.  Had I ever read the entire Gospel of John?  No, I had not.  So, I did.  A little every night.  Afterwards, I waded through Romans, with no outside help from theologians.  I had heard a lot of Bible in church, but had not sat down and read most of it for myself.

Sometime later, everything seemed to get more difficult.  No bragging here, but between those old Jesus-fanatic days and seminary and the work of being a pastor, I actually have sat down and read a lot of the Bible for myself.  What do I do now?  I would find myself at a loss as to how to order my days.
I still longed for the structure of daily devotions, but somehow I had a hard time sticking to a daily discipline.  Even now, this is true.  I think I should have a daily discipline, and I have tried many many good daily discipline ideas.  There is nothing wrong with any of them.  (Well, maybe there have been a couple which were kind of cheesy….) I have prayed in color and prayed while knitting.  I have prayed the hours and prayed the Psalms.  I have prayed with beads, with icons and I am now curious about praying the alphabet.

But a couple of weeks ago, I stumble upon a kind of devotional book which I think is absolutely brilliant.  It is not a book of Bible readings and prayers.  The content is not explicitly Christian.  It is such a simple idea that I can't believe I never thought of it.

The book is called Your Daily Rock. The author (Patti Digh) has written a thoughtful paragraph for every day of the year.  Underneath there are two simple questions, one for the morning, and one for the evening.  In the morning, the question invites  me to live what I read in the paragraph during the day.  In the morning, the question is something like this:  "Well?  How did that go?  Did you discover anything today?"

That's all.  So simple.

One thing I have discovered after all of two weeks is this:  It's not so easy to keep what I have read that day with me all day.  More than once I will become immersed in my day, and suddenly look up and say, "What was it that I was invited to reflect on today?"  I feel like the man described in the letter of James, who looks at himself in the mirror, but as soon as he goes away, forgets what he looked like.

Another thing I am thinking after all of two weeks is this:  What if I read scripture this way?  What if I read a passage, however short, every morning, and came back to the same passage in the evening.  What if in the morning I read "Let your light so shine before others" or "Love your enemies" or "You have been saved by grace through faith", and lived with that short Scripture passage all day?  And then, in the evening, what if the only question was, "Well?  How did that go?  What did you discover today?"

So, for today, here is my short scripture reading:  "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."  And at the end of the day I will say, "Well?"

Maybe it will be the same verse, tomorrow.

What We Offer

There was a brown bag with handles sitting by the door when I arrived.  They wanted to make sure when I left, I would take a few things back to the church with me, things they were sure the church could use. 

I came, as I usually do, for conversation and communion.  Sometimes I think I could spend all day driving from house to house, praying and talking and sitting in rockers, drinking coffee.  I find out about secret joys and griefs, sometimes answer a burning question or two, ask a few myself. 

Today before communion, I prayed for our country, for our community, that we would learn to see each other as brothers and sisters and work together, despite our differences.  They said "Thank you" for that. 

The wife always washes out my communion cups.  She did the same today.  And before I left, they reminded me about the brown bag with the things they knew the church could really use.

Yarn for our prayer shawls, that's what it was.  It was still in the package, too. 

So I took it with me.  It wasn't heavy at all, no trouble to put it in the car, and no trouble to bring it into the church either.

Except that it wasn't at all the kind of yarn we use for prayer shawls.

In our house, we have an extra microwave.  It works, but we don't need it.  We were just going to throw it away, but found out that the city would charge us to take it away.  Maybe we should give it to the church? I thought.  I can understand why people want to give things to the church, cast-offs, used items that aren't useless, but aren't exactly what they used to be.    Maybe it's because you don't have room any more, and you are sure that if any place has room, the church does.  Maybe it's because you want to think this item of yours is still useful to someone.

In a culture that seems to have less and less use for the Church, and less and less idea about what we are about, perhaps this is who we are:  the place you bring your cast offs.

Old tongue depressers, balls of yarn.  Wrapping paper, tin cans, pipe cleaners.  Cast-offs, used goods.  Faded or new. 

Bring it to the church.  We'll find room.  And if we don't, God will.