In two weeks Christmas will be here and almost gone. Two weeks. That doesn't seem like much time to prepare for such a life-changing event as the coming of our savior to earth. As I've been out and about, finishing my holiday shopping and just taking care of the details of everyday life, I've noticed a distinct change in the the past few days. Perhaps people are beginning to realize that the time is almost at hand, that Christmas only comes once a year and it is time to pay attention.
However, we are still at war with Iraq and contemplating an extension of this violence into Iran. Mall shootings make headlines. The people of Darfur suffer as they have for the past two years we have been aware of their plight. But still, Christmas is coming, and we must pay attention for where God is calling us to see this great, mysterious gift. We collectively stand at a crossroad between our hopes for the world and our expectation that God's will prevails, even if we aren't sure what that means.
I feel this space between my own hopes and expectations quite keenly today. A dear friend is beginning a second battle with cancer that has arrived unwelcome at her door. My faith tells me she will survive this and come out the other side whole. My heart and soul agree with unbridled hope. Not that last resort variety of hope that is pulled out when everything else has failed. This is the hope that believes, without condition, that God is with us all, always.
How many other people are living in an advent of hope that staves off fear of the unknown? What of this world is nagging at us, pulling our attention away from that grace that leads us forward in truth and righteousness to where God always is and always will be? Perhaps too many. And, perhaps, not enough. Odd as that may sound as we expect Jesus' arrival, more of us need to be conscious of what is actually happening in the world, and most importantly, in each other's lives. This wonderful intimacy God offers us in this reconciling relationship with the Christ is only squandered when we distance ourselves from its implications.
How deeply do we want to love and be loved? That is the question God asks us to ponder as we welcome God With Us. God sent a child, the place where love begins, to remind us of all that goes into being with and for one another. How we respond to this question tells us how much we are invested in living by what we believe of who God is and how we can embody God's love for each of us and all of us. Do we care for ourselves and each other enough to think about love and its hopes and expectations as our primary concern? Do we care for God enough to consider that God abides with us now and always will, despite everything?
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Creating Hope
The Christmas season is upon us and with these days of holiday preparation come certain expectations and memories that are as integral to our celebrations as traditional foods and decorations. Cherishing each moment, and the rich blend created among many moments, makes each year special, adding to the oral history passed through generations of friends and family gathering together over time. Evergreen trees brought into our homes, cookie exchanges, Advent wreathes, carol singing, last minute gift shopping and squeezing extra guests in at the table and into spare bedrooms are all part of the fun. Little of this is accomplished without some grumbling and frustration, but that is part of the season too. Life doesn't stop, even for this most miraculous time of year.
For many of us this is first and foremost a season of miracles. The Christian tradition holds that the birth of the Christ Child, Jesus, fulfilled the prophecy that God would send a Messiah to deliver and redeem the people of Israel. The ordinary way in which Jesus arrived still doesn't appear very miraculous, but somehow, in its simplicity, still carries awe and reverence even today. How Jesus of Nazareth carried out his life mission measures as a humble existence at best. He was possessed of absolutely no material wealth, never traveled very far from his hometown and constantly relied on the kindness of strangers for his most basic needs. Despite what appears to be a rather nondescript life that ended in a horribly brutal death, Jesus' message of God's love, forgiveness and hope extended to include all those who would choose Him to be included in their lives.
But hearing a good bit of, "Bah, humbug!" spirit around me with the Christmas season barely begun, I am inclined to believe that a whole lot of people have lost touch with their sense of the miraculous and of hope itself. More so, I am seeing that even more people don't have a desire to welcome hope into their lives. There are certainly always good reasons not to hope. The world is filled with hatred, evil and just a general mean-spiritedness that overwhelms even the most joyful souls. Hopelessness is a heavy burden to carry and a difficult one to lay down once we have become accustomed to its weight. Hopelessness curves our spines and twists our souls into believing that there is nothing else for us. Hopelessness, if we let it, becomes our faith, and we lose our hearts in the bargain.
You see, for as many reasons as there are not to hope, there is always the best reason of all to hope, and that is that we can. Hope, like anything thing else is a choice, a decision or a series of decisions made throughout our lives. Hope is actively believing that something can happen when logic says that it won't. Hope doesn't exist in a vacuum, but resides in the will and the hearts of those yearning for more and knowing that it can be. Hope isn't for the faint of heart, but for those strong enough to have a vision of what they want and know it can come to be. They can then focus their attention on making that happen. In this sense hope is a form a prayer, a preparatory step of longing toward the reality of what isn't quite tangible.
I love this time of year because even among all the extra shopping, parties, stresses and strains we put ourselves through, we still have this opportunity to reflect back on the Christmas story of Jesus' birth, remember the ages of hope and expectation the preceded that simple moment that changed history and consider how it has changed us. How we live and interact with one another is still the same as then. We still gather as friends and family to share our lives, share stories and live with hope, yearning for what can be. Although we are surrounded by twinkling lights and sparkling ornaments, we are also nestled beneath the same starry night that helped lead some weary travelers to a small stable in the middle of nowhere to a newborn and his befuddled parents.
How did they know that this small baby was the person they sought? And even if he was, how old would he be before he assumed any kind of leadership role as king of his people? Perhaps that is what hope is most about, seeing the miraculous in the most ordinary of circumstances and trusting in its power to transform lives, and sometimes, even the world.
For many of us this is first and foremost a season of miracles. The Christian tradition holds that the birth of the Christ Child, Jesus, fulfilled the prophecy that God would send a Messiah to deliver and redeem the people of Israel. The ordinary way in which Jesus arrived still doesn't appear very miraculous, but somehow, in its simplicity, still carries awe and reverence even today. How Jesus of Nazareth carried out his life mission measures as a humble existence at best. He was possessed of absolutely no material wealth, never traveled very far from his hometown and constantly relied on the kindness of strangers for his most basic needs. Despite what appears to be a rather nondescript life that ended in a horribly brutal death, Jesus' message of God's love, forgiveness and hope extended to include all those who would choose Him to be included in their lives.
But hearing a good bit of, "Bah, humbug!" spirit around me with the Christmas season barely begun, I am inclined to believe that a whole lot of people have lost touch with their sense of the miraculous and of hope itself. More so, I am seeing that even more people don't have a desire to welcome hope into their lives. There are certainly always good reasons not to hope. The world is filled with hatred, evil and just a general mean-spiritedness that overwhelms even the most joyful souls. Hopelessness is a heavy burden to carry and a difficult one to lay down once we have become accustomed to its weight. Hopelessness curves our spines and twists our souls into believing that there is nothing else for us. Hopelessness, if we let it, becomes our faith, and we lose our hearts in the bargain.
You see, for as many reasons as there are not to hope, there is always the best reason of all to hope, and that is that we can. Hope, like anything thing else is a choice, a decision or a series of decisions made throughout our lives. Hope is actively believing that something can happen when logic says that it won't. Hope doesn't exist in a vacuum, but resides in the will and the hearts of those yearning for more and knowing that it can be. Hope isn't for the faint of heart, but for those strong enough to have a vision of what they want and know it can come to be. They can then focus their attention on making that happen. In this sense hope is a form a prayer, a preparatory step of longing toward the reality of what isn't quite tangible.
I love this time of year because even among all the extra shopping, parties, stresses and strains we put ourselves through, we still have this opportunity to reflect back on the Christmas story of Jesus' birth, remember the ages of hope and expectation the preceded that simple moment that changed history and consider how it has changed us. How we live and interact with one another is still the same as then. We still gather as friends and family to share our lives, share stories and live with hope, yearning for what can be. Although we are surrounded by twinkling lights and sparkling ornaments, we are also nestled beneath the same starry night that helped lead some weary travelers to a small stable in the middle of nowhere to a newborn and his befuddled parents.
How did they know that this small baby was the person they sought? And even if he was, how old would he be before he assumed any kind of leadership role as king of his people? Perhaps that is what hope is most about, seeing the miraculous in the most ordinary of circumstances and trusting in its power to transform lives, and sometimes, even the world.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Great Luxuries
My upstairs neighbors are moving out today.
I wasn't aware of their impending departure until around eight o'clock this morning when the hustle and bustle of furniture and belongings exiting the building began. I have to say I feel a little sad at the thought, even though I would have to check the mail boxes downstairs in the lobby to see what their names are. Having bumped into them occasionally on the elevator ride to our respective homes, I feel a nice sort of connection that comes from pleasantries exchanged over time.
A friend of mine had lamented my move from single family home ownership to apartment rental. He couldn't conceive of being surrounded by the noise of other people's daily lives. Dishwashers running, toilets flushing in the middle of the night and doors opening and closing were more than he could imagine, let alone bear, on any kind of regular basis. I imagine many people feel that way, considering the American dream is to cozy up to one's own fireplace with a cup of hot cocoa, a thirty year mortgage and the peace and serenity that come from knowing your neighbors are at least a hundred yards away. More peace and quiet, more distance, less hassle. Dealing with strangers in close proximity on a consistent basis takes time and patience. Believing we are the only people in the universe must be suspended, as does the need to feel offended by a good bit of other people's behavior.
Mostly, its about forgiveness and forbearance.
I was first introduced to the companionate relationship between forgiveness and forbearance by a woman in the first congregation I served. Offered up as some comfort regarding a nasty little church squabble, her words stuck with me, and I now have come to regard them as two of the greatest luxuries of being a grown up.
I didn't pull them back out of my memory for real use until years later during my stint as a retail manager. It was then, while addressing customer service and employee management issues, that I began to realize how much better it felt not to hold grudges, plot revenge or react to situations with rancor and rage. Forgiving people their foolishness, poor communication skills and rudeness made it much easier to simply get to the heart of the matter and deal with the problem that needed to be fixed. I felt much better not needing to be right, but instead invested my energy in correcting the situation and moving on to whatever else needed to be done.
The forbearance part came into play most often with disgruntled employees who either felt compelled to pick fights with customers who had hurt their feelings or had made them angry. Taking a deep breath, letting oneself unhook from those kind of feelings and moving into a helping stance is very had to do. It takes consciousness, loads of practice and the ability to stay engaged in situations that frequently feel as if you are being blind sided by a truck. What helped some of my sales associates and assistant management staff become more familiar with the concept was seeing me work with customers at different levels of irritation and rage.
Most people just want to feel heard, so listening was key, and making sure the customer could see I was paying attention to them was doubly important. Eye contact, affirming nods and verbal agreement made it clear to them that they were my focus. After that, it was simply a matter of figuring out what they wanted, giving it to them if I could or offering another suggestion if I couldn't and following through on that offer. With rare exception the customer was thanking me, giving me a hug and offering to buy my coffee before they waked back out the door. When they came back to shop they sought me out, showed me their children's latest school pictures and inquired about my life as if we were old friends. It feels as miraculous now as it did then.
Forgiveness and forbearance are indeed miracles, luxurious in ways that cannot be quantitatively measured. Like fine wine, each takes care, caution and time to produce, but are worth the necessary effort. Forgiving is giving something to another person before they may deserve it in our eyes. Forbearance is continuing that practice of forgiveness for as long as it takes. I believe Jesus said something about "seventy times seven," but I don't think he was being literal, just expansive and generous.
Perhaps those are two more luxuries of being a grown up.
I wasn't aware of their impending departure until around eight o'clock this morning when the hustle and bustle of furniture and belongings exiting the building began. I have to say I feel a little sad at the thought, even though I would have to check the mail boxes downstairs in the lobby to see what their names are. Having bumped into them occasionally on the elevator ride to our respective homes, I feel a nice sort of connection that comes from pleasantries exchanged over time.
A friend of mine had lamented my move from single family home ownership to apartment rental. He couldn't conceive of being surrounded by the noise of other people's daily lives. Dishwashers running, toilets flushing in the middle of the night and doors opening and closing were more than he could imagine, let alone bear, on any kind of regular basis. I imagine many people feel that way, considering the American dream is to cozy up to one's own fireplace with a cup of hot cocoa, a thirty year mortgage and the peace and serenity that come from knowing your neighbors are at least a hundred yards away. More peace and quiet, more distance, less hassle. Dealing with strangers in close proximity on a consistent basis takes time and patience. Believing we are the only people in the universe must be suspended, as does the need to feel offended by a good bit of other people's behavior.
Mostly, its about forgiveness and forbearance.
I was first introduced to the companionate relationship between forgiveness and forbearance by a woman in the first congregation I served. Offered up as some comfort regarding a nasty little church squabble, her words stuck with me, and I now have come to regard them as two of the greatest luxuries of being a grown up.
I didn't pull them back out of my memory for real use until years later during my stint as a retail manager. It was then, while addressing customer service and employee management issues, that I began to realize how much better it felt not to hold grudges, plot revenge or react to situations with rancor and rage. Forgiving people their foolishness, poor communication skills and rudeness made it much easier to simply get to the heart of the matter and deal with the problem that needed to be fixed. I felt much better not needing to be right, but instead invested my energy in correcting the situation and moving on to whatever else needed to be done.
The forbearance part came into play most often with disgruntled employees who either felt compelled to pick fights with customers who had hurt their feelings or had made them angry. Taking a deep breath, letting oneself unhook from those kind of feelings and moving into a helping stance is very had to do. It takes consciousness, loads of practice and the ability to stay engaged in situations that frequently feel as if you are being blind sided by a truck. What helped some of my sales associates and assistant management staff become more familiar with the concept was seeing me work with customers at different levels of irritation and rage.
Most people just want to feel heard, so listening was key, and making sure the customer could see I was paying attention to them was doubly important. Eye contact, affirming nods and verbal agreement made it clear to them that they were my focus. After that, it was simply a matter of figuring out what they wanted, giving it to them if I could or offering another suggestion if I couldn't and following through on that offer. With rare exception the customer was thanking me, giving me a hug and offering to buy my coffee before they waked back out the door. When they came back to shop they sought me out, showed me their children's latest school pictures and inquired about my life as if we were old friends. It feels as miraculous now as it did then.
Forgiveness and forbearance are indeed miracles, luxurious in ways that cannot be quantitatively measured. Like fine wine, each takes care, caution and time to produce, but are worth the necessary effort. Forgiving is giving something to another person before they may deserve it in our eyes. Forbearance is continuing that practice of forgiveness for as long as it takes. I believe Jesus said something about "seventy times seven," but I don't think he was being literal, just expansive and generous.
Perhaps those are two more luxuries of being a grown up.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Serving Your Purpose
Purpose is a pretty big deal.
In the context of life, purpose matters. Our purpose is the answer to the age-old question, "Why are we here?" When we find ourselves wondering what difference our lives make or even why we were born, our purpose is the reason. We each were created and came to be here on earth with a specific mission that would serve humanity in a uniquely powerful way, a way that could not be manifested by anyone else on the planet at this time. We all share in our collective gifts, skills and talents, and we are all served by each other's purpose.
What is your purpose? Discovering your reason for being, at whatever point in life you find yourself, is a prospecting expedition filled with unexpected treasures. Serving that purpose, nurturing it to its fullest capacity to give to others, can deepen into a life-long passion full of wealth and happiness.
Where are you in your life journey? Take a few moments right now to consider what you enjoy in your life. What do you feel good about? What brings you pleasure or a sense of fulfillment? Perhaps the relationships in your life, family, friends or co-workers, are satisfying and special to you. For some people work is much more than a paycheck, but also a source of creative inspiration. For others hobbies, such as gardening, decorating, camping or canoeing bring them endless delight. Chances are very good that what brings you pleasure is somehow connected to your purpose.
Does that surprise you? For some reason purpose has gotten the bad rap of being difficult, miserable, even a burden, and as far away from what we naturally love doing as can possibly be. Simply put, it's not. Our purpose is a part of us, a part of what we love about ourselves that we can't wait to share.
Having identified what brings you joy, how do you share that with other people? How are other people served by what you bring to life? Are you a parent whose home is open to the neighborhood children? Perhaps your purpose is listening and advising young people. Do your organizational skills benefit the efficiency and over-all positive energy of the company for which you work? Perhaps your purpose is to create a framework for those around you to do their jobs well. Do your skills in food preparation bring praise from those who are lucky enough to sample your culinary delights? Perhaps your purpose is based in hospitality.
Most of us have come to believe that purpose is grand, larger than life and only valuable if worthy of being made into a Broadway musical extravaganza. While the stage is meant for some, our own, individual stories are profoundly more interesting. Being able to make a friend laugh, presenting a solid talk about values at a PTA meeting or teaching someone how to write a love letter may make much more impact in transforming the world than we will ever know. Purpose matters because we never know how many people we will touch by living into what we have been created to do and be.
Now, one more thing to consider. How will you serve this purpose you have identified as your own? How will you nurture it, care for it, so that you may continue to use it well in service to others? Based in these questions is the simple truth that we must care for ourselves before we can care for others. It may seem selfish or out of order to care for ourselves first, but the reality is no one else is going to do it for us, and feeding and growing our purpose is a crucial part of living our lives fully and happily.
My guess is that gardeners understand this concept very well. Known for their gift of producing great displays of color and texture, quite literally from dirt, they are also aware of the time, planning and grunt work it takes to produce these natural marvels. What motivates them? Seed catalogues, florist shops, appreciation of other gardeners' efforts and results. They give themselves the gift of loving what they do best in all kinds of forms and shapes and sizes. They nurture their purpose by connecting to it everywhere they can find it. It's a great example we can all follow. Pay attention for ways you can serve and nurture your purpose every day.
Whether you have recently discovered your purpose or you are an old hand at sharing your gifts with others, we each have the chance to make a difference in other people's lives while enriching our own. The wealth of living one's purpose well may or may not be financial. But true abundance can be measured in as many ways as we can make a positive influence in the world each day.
In the context of life, purpose matters. Our purpose is the answer to the age-old question, "Why are we here?" When we find ourselves wondering what difference our lives make or even why we were born, our purpose is the reason. We each were created and came to be here on earth with a specific mission that would serve humanity in a uniquely powerful way, a way that could not be manifested by anyone else on the planet at this time. We all share in our collective gifts, skills and talents, and we are all served by each other's purpose.
What is your purpose? Discovering your reason for being, at whatever point in life you find yourself, is a prospecting expedition filled with unexpected treasures. Serving that purpose, nurturing it to its fullest capacity to give to others, can deepen into a life-long passion full of wealth and happiness.
Where are you in your life journey? Take a few moments right now to consider what you enjoy in your life. What do you feel good about? What brings you pleasure or a sense of fulfillment? Perhaps the relationships in your life, family, friends or co-workers, are satisfying and special to you. For some people work is much more than a paycheck, but also a source of creative inspiration. For others hobbies, such as gardening, decorating, camping or canoeing bring them endless delight. Chances are very good that what brings you pleasure is somehow connected to your purpose.
Does that surprise you? For some reason purpose has gotten the bad rap of being difficult, miserable, even a burden, and as far away from what we naturally love doing as can possibly be. Simply put, it's not. Our purpose is a part of us, a part of what we love about ourselves that we can't wait to share.
Having identified what brings you joy, how do you share that with other people? How are other people served by what you bring to life? Are you a parent whose home is open to the neighborhood children? Perhaps your purpose is listening and advising young people. Do your organizational skills benefit the efficiency and over-all positive energy of the company for which you work? Perhaps your purpose is to create a framework for those around you to do their jobs well. Do your skills in food preparation bring praise from those who are lucky enough to sample your culinary delights? Perhaps your purpose is based in hospitality.
Most of us have come to believe that purpose is grand, larger than life and only valuable if worthy of being made into a Broadway musical extravaganza. While the stage is meant for some, our own, individual stories are profoundly more interesting. Being able to make a friend laugh, presenting a solid talk about values at a PTA meeting or teaching someone how to write a love letter may make much more impact in transforming the world than we will ever know. Purpose matters because we never know how many people we will touch by living into what we have been created to do and be.
Now, one more thing to consider. How will you serve this purpose you have identified as your own? How will you nurture it, care for it, so that you may continue to use it well in service to others? Based in these questions is the simple truth that we must care for ourselves before we can care for others. It may seem selfish or out of order to care for ourselves first, but the reality is no one else is going to do it for us, and feeding and growing our purpose is a crucial part of living our lives fully and happily.
My guess is that gardeners understand this concept very well. Known for their gift of producing great displays of color and texture, quite literally from dirt, they are also aware of the time, planning and grunt work it takes to produce these natural marvels. What motivates them? Seed catalogues, florist shops, appreciation of other gardeners' efforts and results. They give themselves the gift of loving what they do best in all kinds of forms and shapes and sizes. They nurture their purpose by connecting to it everywhere they can find it. It's a great example we can all follow. Pay attention for ways you can serve and nurture your purpose every day.
Whether you have recently discovered your purpose or you are an old hand at sharing your gifts with others, we each have the chance to make a difference in other people's lives while enriching our own. The wealth of living one's purpose well may or may not be financial. But true abundance can be measured in as many ways as we can make a positive influence in the world each day.
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