“No one is a nobody in Christ Jesus.”

Yesterday I attended the memorial service for Elizabeth Michelle Smith…a member of 61^st Avenue UMC. “Liz” as we all called her died unexpectedly a couple of weeks ago. The last time I saw her was three days before she passed. She excitedly told me that she had finally gotten a disability hearing scheduled – hopeful that she’d start getting disability pay.

She was one year younger than me, but she had illnesses that took away her vitality. I remember the time when she had her first amputation and I was with her at the hospital. She leaned over and touched my foot to show me what they were going to remove from her foot. That hit me hard –it made me feel her pain a little deeper.

When Liz got off the streets, she was so happy – not simply because she would have a place to stay, but excited because she was going to take in all of her friends who didn’t have a home. It was her way of living! If she got something good, she had to share it with other people – whether it was information or her “own” things. In the end, a few of her street friends spoke at the service – one of them calling Liz his godmother, and saying that it’s because of her that he enrolled in barber school and is living into her belief that he is “too smart” to not better his life.

In attendance at the service was another lady who is so dear to me – Linda. Linda is intellectually disabled and her appearance is one that I’ve written about before. Linda came to me after the service and said that even when she passes she will pray for me every day. Because of her looks and disabilities, she’s gotten ridiculed and put down all her life. She told me that she loved me, Pastor Paul, and Brenda because we’ve been kind to her. I thought when I left there that I feel more privileged being loved by someone like her than if I were loved by a superstar.

Leaving the church, there was a man lying by the side of the road – in the opposite direction from where I was going. The weather here in Nashville was 109 yesterday! I drove to him and got out of the car. He had collapsed and couldn’t walk, so I called 911. People from the church all walked down the street once they knew so they could be there for him as well. He was treated with care and taken to the hospital accompanied by his girlfriend.

Just a little while before this incident, I’d heard the medical caseworker at Liz’s service say, “No one is a nobody in Christ Jesus.” Truer words could not have been spoken in a church where the down and out are received and welcomed as loved guests. This is my church home. This is where I’m planted and growing in faith because I come face to face with some pretty hard stuff every day. So when I write about my support of “Obamacare,” equal rights for gay and lesbians, the right to vote for those who do not drive and have no home, immigrants, etc. you’ll know why. I sit amongst people who are rejected by society because they may not contribute to the financial growth of this country. But for a country of so many citizens who claim we are a Christian nation and that we should be pro-life, I say, these lives are worthy of fighting for as well…they are worth listening to and letting their opinions count.

Christ said that when we serve the naked, hungry, thirsty, poor, those in prison, we serve him. Yesterday I got a good taste of Christ’s presence, in the broken hearted and outcasts. The taste was sweet…God was touchable and real among those who embody the scriptures:

Matthew 5 (The Message)
When Jesus saw his ministry drawing huge crowds, he climbed a hillside. Those who were apprenticed to him, the committed, climbed with him. Arriving at a quiet place, he sat down and taught his climbing companions. This is what he said:
“You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule.
“You’re blessed when you feel you’ve lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you.
“You’re blessed when you’re content with just who you are—no more, no less. That’s the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can’t be bought.
“You’re blessed when you’ve worked up a good appetite for God. He’s food and drink in the best meal you’ll ever eat.
“You’re blessed when you care. At the moment of being ‘care-full,’ you find yourselves cared for.
“You’re blessed when you get your inside world—your mind and heart—put right. Then you can see God in the outside world.
“You’re blessed when you can show people how to cooperate instead of compete or fight. That’s when you discover who you really are, and your place in God’s family.
“You’re blessed when your commitment to God provokes persecution. The persecution drives you even deeper into God’s kingdom.
“Not only that—count yourselves blessed every time people put you down or throw you out or speak lies about you to discredit me. What it means is that the truth is too close for comfort and they are uncomfortable. You can be glad when that happens—give a cheer, even!—for though they don’t like it, I do! And all heaven applauds. And know that you are in good company. My prophets and witnesses have always gotten into this kind of trouble.

So, rest in peace, Liz. We’ll do our best to care for those you loved. And say a prayer for the rest of us, ok? We need it.

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What’s your story?

We all are strangers. We are known and loved by some but if we go to the right (or wrong) places, we may be feared, harassed or rejected because of our stranger-ness.

I’m from Irish descent and wanted to know what my ancestors faced when they first immigrated. I googled “anti-Irish sentiment.” What I found were pages of references that had somehow escaped our family’s neatly kept genealogy. Harsh racial stereotypes were there, exposing pre-conceived notions of a people not yet fully encountered in America. The Irish were labeled “drunkards,” “lazy,” – some of the worst terms I cannot bring myself to type. A song, “Irish Need Not Apply,” described the common experience of someone earnestly looking for work, yet being rejected because of heritage.

“Fear of the other” is a part of humanity. We are tribal-based – making us comfortable in some places and on high alert in others. Years ago in Panama, I got to know two tribes who’d lived beside one another for generations. I had the naïve notion that they must all get along – they had to share everything. Yet I learned pretty quickly that one tribe had long judged the other as dirty and unsophisticated. Division abounds.

Our better selves arise when we are driven by love rather than fear…when we are willing to go to the unknown places to understand people rather than taking the easy way out by letting statistics and divisive newscasters rule our thoughts. “There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear…The person who is afraid has not been made perfect in love.” (1 John 4:18, CEB) Being made perfect in love is tough work…you just can’t shut out the strangers if you want God to be continually at work within you.

There’s a story I’ve come upon in my work at United Methodist Communications. A story about a teenage girl born and raised in America, whose family was torn apart by a broken immigration system. No matter where you stand on the issue, the way this case was handled will make any person of compassion cringe.

We can take the easy way out and not explore the issues that are breaking apart families who, like our ancestors, came here because they yearned for more than their native lands could provide. It’s a challenge, isn’t it? It’s so much easier to remain comforted in the narrowness of our own thoughts. If you’re daring enough to step into Jasmine’s story, you may find love pushing you beyond fear.

Generations later, here I am. A fully assimilated, contributing member of society who is remembering her own story and learning the stories of others. What’s your story?

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Another Side

Have you heard of the “two wolves” story? Inner wolves at war within us? Here is a very personal look at this struggle within me – in light of what is going on in Washington.

“They should just go to the banks to worship on Sundays . That’s where their god is.” The words of my friend Wafa still echo in my mind all these years after her death. Having moved to the U.S. from Syria, she was tired of being evangelized by clients whose lives seemed to resonate more with goods than with the good of humanity. I’m certain she would have a colorful commentary today on those who so loudly proclaim that this is a Christian nation, all the while cutting benefits from those who can least afford it.

I can’t reconcile the two – being Christian and not caring enough to create a just and equitable system for the economically disadvantaged.  I just don’t get it. So I’m trying to see another side….to hear another argument…another solution – one that involves limited government with vastly reduced social programs. Here goes.

Social Security goes away and becomes a self-guided, saving program. We Americans have proven in the recent recession how well we save for a rainy day. We don’t need government bailouts. If we invest in Wall Street and it crashes, well, stuff happens. To each his own. Squirrelling money away in the mattresses worked for our ancestors.

Health insurance goes back to what it was pre-health reform. If someone has a pre-existing condition, they will just have to pay for their own treatment. If they can’t afford treatment, maybe it’s just “their time.”  The poor have always had to make decisions like this. There was a young woman at church who died this year from such an event.

No more government housing programs…shacks are an acceptable way to live in (so long as it’s not in my neighborhood). It’s how people lived in the olden days (and how people in tent cities across the U.S. still live). I’ve been to plenty of countries where the government doesn’t help with housing. People can survive in tin homes and lean-to’s. I’ve got some great pictures from Africa to show what it could look like.

Let each family decide how its children should be educated…no interference and no government funding. The school system is broken and private corporations will deal with it much better than legislators. Other countries don’t provide free education. I’ve helped pay tuition in Honduras and Zimbabwe before…I could do that here as well. Children who can’t afford to go to school could be eligible for labor pools (the best parents could learn from Jonathan Swift’s “A Modest Proposal.”) They’re adding beds at the new privatized prison down the street in expectation of new “clients”….so still there’s still a chance they’ll have a bed and a roof.

I’ve thought this through and yet it still doesn’t feel right to me. Maybe after a while, I can just get numb to the sadness of it all and quit caring. Does the bank have Sunday morning hours?

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Tall Trees & Barren Spaces

Walking through a neighborhood the other day, my husband noticed how beautiful a large oak tree was, but lamented that the yard around it was so dry and desolate. It was obvious that in the heat of Nashville, that tree had soaked up so much water for itself that it left little behind for grass, flowers, or anything else to grow.

Later in the week, I sat around a table with the women of Sixty First Avenue United Methodist Church at what became for me a deeply meaningful experience. I began to think of that tree as a metaphor for what is happening in the U.S. these days. For the common laborer, years of working hard has provided little to live on and nothing to save. Many laborers (laid off, retired or disabled) now stand just beyond the shade of these vast “trees” in what has become a barren space in America’s landscape.

The little they’ve come to depend upon is drying up further. Distant bickering of elected leaders echoes in their daily lives, as they worry if a father will get the medicine he needs to prevent heart failure; if insurance will pay to stop infection in a friend’s recently amputated leg; and how they’ll survive if Social Security cuts are made. People who have contributed much in their lifetimes have so often been used up and tossed aside for cheaper labor pools, and greater profit. I’m reminded of a favorite movie quote: “A country’s character is defined by its “everyday rustics”…They are the legs you stand on and that position demands respect.” (Ever After, 1998)

Distinctions between “the wealthy” and “the poor” become chasms if we fail to engage one another, especially if we do not relate with persons living in poverty. It’s easy to judge a group of people, if you’ve only labeled them generically and remained at a distance. When you come to know “the poor” by name, hear their stories and realize their gifts, preconceived notions dissolve. Complexities arise. Shades of gray become varied, and what used to be easy judgment becomes greater understanding.

In the humble walls of Sixty First Avenue’s sanctuary, I’ve realized that perhaps the greatest spiritual challenge is to love more than we think possible. If we leave presumptions on the altar and let something new arise, maybe we’ll be able to mimic the love that Jesus showed others while on earth. When we love more, we think beyond our own endless desires, personal growth and financial independence. The barren spaces start to matter and we imagine how we too can be suppliers of lifegiving water.

For further reflection:

Check out this living wage calculator and compare it with the minimum wage those who serve you may be making: http://www.livingwage.geog.psu.edu/

 

 

 

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Eye of the Beholder

One of my favorite episodes of The Twilight Zone is “The Eye of the Beholder” where a woman undergoes multiple surgeries to conform to societal pressure. She looked too different – too ugly to all the others. They could hardly bare to look at her. When the bandages are removed, it’s revealed that she is quite beautiful…just not according to their standards. Her nose is not full and snout-like. Her brows and lips are quite unlike the others’ curled and distorted ones. Eventually, she has to leave her home because her appearance is just too disturbing to others.

I thought about this episode recently after I listened to a friend. She has always looked different, and her life has been filled with hardship because of it. She’s taken the insults with courage. She’s prayed, and sought solace in God. She’s remained kind to others. Yet she finds late in her adult life that the words and snickers of others still strike at the core of her being, wounding her deeply.

Some of the most interesting people I’ve met in life are unconventional-looking people. People who aren’t perfectly groomed, whose faces wear haggard expressions of hard living, and whose clothes reflect individual style way over anybody else’s opinion. Reminds me of a homeless woman named Sue in Mississippi whose figure always reflected the lumps of the things she carried in pockets, sleeves or even her bra.

The hymn, “How Can We Name a Love” includes the words:
“Within our daily world, in every human face, Loves echoes sound and God is found hid in the common place.” (Brian Wren)

I think God must have fun hiding “in the common place.” Think about it. God became manifest in a baby who was born where animals dwelt…to parents who were not wealthy nor politically powerful. God still is found among the poor and those who society is quick to dismiss. We’ve got to look for God and not be fooled by outward appearances…I can just imagine God laughing when we discover Him…almost like a spiritual hide and go seek.

Psalm 139: 14-15 says, “I thank you, High God—you’re breathtaking! Body and soul, I am marvelously made! I worship in adoration—what a creation! You know me inside and out, you know every bone in my body; You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit, how I was sculpted from nothing into something.” (The Message)

From nothing into something. That says it and I think my friend is really something. Something beautiful. Because I see God in her time after time. In the bright gleam of her beautiful blue eyes, I’ve seen God. I think of those who hurl insults rather than experiencing her presence, and I think man. They’ve really missed something special.

Sixty-First Avenue United Methodist Church is closing on June 24th, 2017 due to gentrification of the neighborhood and members having to move. We are seeking a new location with other homeless ministries, with easy access. Donations can be sent to 61st Avenue UMC, 6018 New York Avenue, Nashville, TN 37209. Prayers are greatly appreciated.
See News Channel 5 Story

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Had It Not Been for the Lord

>Sermon for 61st Avenue UMC, Nashville, TN Oct 10, 2009, 6 p.m.

Psalm 124

1-5 If God hadn’t been for us —all together now, Israel, sing out!—
If God hadn’t been for us
when everyone went against us,
We would have been swallowed alive
by their violent anger,
Swept away by the flood of rage,
drowned in the torrent;
We would have lost our lives
in the wild, raging water.

6 Oh, blessed be God!
He didn’t go off and leave us.
He didn’t abandon us defenseless,
helpless as a rabbit in a pack of snarling dogs.

7 We’ve flown free from their fangs,
free of their traps, free as a bird.
Their grip is broken;
we’re free as a bird in flight.

8 God’s strong name is our help,
the same God who made heaven and earth.

If it had not been for the Lord, where would we be? Tonight, we will look at three stories of people who can testify to God’s commitment to life – in all of its goodness – they’ve come through situations that others would have considered hopeless. Whether we acknowledge it or not, God is walking alongside us – through the peaks and the valleys – empathizing, sympathizing, and yearning for life in its abundance to be restored within us and throughout creation.

Let us pray.

This summer, while United Methodist Communications was conducting training for six conferences in Africa, I came to know a pastor from the Democratic Republic of Congo. Pastor Louis Loma Otshudi came to the U.S. to learn about communications technology. While he was here, his host family came to me, saying that he had saved a baby’s life in the Congo – that the baby was now living in Houston and that his family was coming to Nashville to visit Pastor Otshudi. That was the beginning of what I knew about a baby named “Innocence” whose life is a testimony of “had it not been for the Lord.”

Watch Video: Congo Family Adoption

“It wasn’t just another thing he did for the church – he saved that baby’s life.”

God’s most precious gift is life. And God doesn’t want to see that gift – life – go to waste.

Sometimes we go through things that we think we can never get through – mountains too steep to climb or valleys too low to ever climb out of. Yet I’ve met people who’ve come through things that I thought would have destroyed them. I’ve witnessed people who’ve come through war and prison and torture, the loss of family and loved ones – still proclaiming the goodness of God – and how if it had not been for the Lord, they surely would not have made it.

God’s mercy isn’t just for those who’ve earned some special right to it. God’s mercy is for ALL. When we read this psalm, we could get hung up on the part “If God had not been on OUR side…” Sometimes we make the mistake of thinking that God is only on one person’s side in an argument (usually our side). I don’t think God is on any one person’s side – God is on the side of life, love, peace, hope, joy, redemption, salvation, and grace. God calls all of humanity to be on God’s own side – it is there that we all can find the true meaning of life. No matter who we are.

In 2008, I heard of a man named Corey Wagner, living in the Adams County Detention Facility in Colorado, and of his pastor, Yong Hui McDonald. I’d like to share their story with you.

Watch Video: Art by Inmates

Sometimes people think that God has brought them to trouble, only to raise them out of it. I don’t see it that way. I think that this world is full of brokenness and that each of us has choices to make and that we will encounter the choices that other people make – sometimes wrong choices – that hurt us in the process.

In the midst of trouble, I think of God as the Great Recycler – you know? Taking the brokenness of our lives – the junk the trash the pain the hurt and making something beautiful of it. For Corey Wagner, he took his junk to prison, but God has turned that junk into something beautiful – not for Corey to hoard for his own happiness and redemption but for other inmates who may finally recognize God’s grace as they experience it through Corey.

If you study the Bible – you’ll see that the great heroes and “she-roes” of the Bible are not people who lived perfect lives. They are people who finally got on their knees and humbled themselves, admitting that they were not perfect and calling upon God’s help. And through that admission, God’s grace accomplished amazing things through them. Look at Moses – who killed an Egyptian – King David – who had an affair with a married woman and had her husband killed to hide his sin – look at the sinful woman mentioned in Luke whose humility and devotion to Christ raised her up as an example of dedicated worship.

Our last story is of a pastor whose ministry became even more vital when he admitted his own brokenness.

Watch Video: Recovery Church

All of us are broken – we come from various places of brokenness and we may be at different places on the path to healing. Sometimes we think that a person has it together because they look alright on the outside, maybe they wear the right clothes, drive the right car, live in the right neighborhood. But we just never know what’s going on inside a person – what pain they may be hiding from others just to live into that “right” image.

God knows. God knows what is going on inside of you and me, right now. And no matter what you’ve done or how broken you think you are, God’s love is still there for you – going before you and behind you and beside you – waiting for you to receive.

Romans 8:38-39 says:

“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Psalm 139:8 says:

If I ascend into heaven, You are there;
If I make my bed in hell, behold, You are there.

There is no place we can go, no place we can hide, nothing we have done or can do to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus. Are our souls open and ready to receive this transformative love? Are we ready to make that difficult climb out of the valley or up the mountain?

I’d like to close with these words from a hymn:

(Listen) God Hath Not Promised

God hath not promised skies always blue,
Flower-strewn pathways all our lives through;
God hath not promised sun without rain,
Joy without sorrow, peace without pain.
But God hath promised strength for the day,
Rest for the labor, light for the way,
Grace for the trials, help from above,
Unfailing sympathy, undying love.

What is your story? How do you say now or how will you one day say, “Had it not been for the Lord?” If you feel led to open yourself up to God’s grace this night, we invite you to come forward. If you’d like to take the hands of people here in this congregation so that your walk will be shared by others you can love and be loved by, please come during the hymn of invitation.

“What a Friend”

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Incarnational Love

This story from 61st Avenue United Methodist Church is a poignant message of Christ’s love exemplified through a humble servant. It was written by the pastor, Rev. Paul Slentz. I hope that it touches you as it did me. The church is located at 6018 New York Avenue, Nashville, TN 37209.

“…As part of this thanks, let me share with you something that happened here just a couple of Saturdays ago that reminded me of why the ministry here is important. This is a story that features Brenda Hix, our lay leader, who many of you know.

It started with my driving the church van down to the park across from the Downtown Library to pick up homeless folks to come have a meal and worship with us. I saw that a young woman and her boyfriend who had worshiped with us for the first time the week before wanted to come again. They are both very young, appearing to be in their early twenties, and the young woman has a severe disability that keeps her in a wheel chair. She also has a love of music. The first week I picked her up, she sang along with the Christian songs playing on the radio to and from church.

Well, this second week, with some difficulty we lifted her up into the front seat of the van and got her wheel chair situated as well. I could see that she looked very depressed. But what really hit me and made me feel so badly for her was that she was just terribly filthy. She was wearing the exact same clothing she had had on the week before, it had been very hot in the intervening days, and the pad she sat on was urine soaked. Frankly, the smell was so overwhelming that it was hard to sit next to her on the van. She did not sing along with the radio this time.

When we got to the church, I immediately went to Brenda and explained the situation. Without blinking an eye, Brenda took that sad young woman into the woman’s room, bathed her, clothed her, cleaned her wheel chair, and, most important of all, spoke comforting words to her. At one point Brenda had to come out of the restroom just to get some air, and she was even gagging a bit. But she stuck with it, and after about half an hour that young woman emerged clean as a whistle and with a smile on her face. She then ate supper and joined us for worship, where once again she sang her heart out and clearly was enjoying herself.

After the service was over, I thanked Brenda profusely and told her that she had loved that woman with Christ-like love. And indeed Jesus did love people in that same up-close way. Jesus’ love was incarnated love, in-the-flesh love. My guess is that some of the folk he placed his healing hands on didn’t smell so good either. I am so grateful that his love continues to be expressed in an incarnated way through the hands of somebody like Brenda.”

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Purple and Fine Linen

Proverbs 20:5: “Knowing what is right is like deep water in the heart; a wise person draws from the well within.”

Last night at 61^st AvenueUMC, I experienced refreshment from the deep wells of the homeless and those living in poverty. A quickly-put-together Bible study was the cup to draw out these insights. Going through various emotions, I invited participants to share the scriptures that give them comfort when they’re afraid, peace when they are anxious, assurance when there’s doubt, etc.

Steven walked into the room after we had already gotten started. A young man with shades and a hat on, I assumed he might sit there with skepticism and not participate. But when I asked the group which scriptures they go to when they are anxious, he quickly recited the passage from Isaiah 41:10:

“Don’t be afraid, because I am with you. Don’t be intimidated: I am your God. I will strengthen you. I will help you. I will support you with my victorious right hand.”

Time after time he confronted my assumptions, sharing among strangers his search, his struggle and the respite in scriptures he had found. Had I passed him by on the street outside the sacred walls of this little church, I never would have imagined the depth of spiritual searching and knowledge that dwelled inside him. I would have missed out on one of God’s Images…the Imago Dei within him.

Charles Dickens wrote about Kit in The Old Curiosity Shop: “Thank Heaven that the temples of such spirits are not made with hands, and that they may be even more worthily hung with poor patchwork than with purple and fine linen!” While our eyes revere those made of “purple and fine linen” sometimes the finest gifts can be found in those we’d quickly pass by.

My prayer is that my eyes become like God’s – looking upon humanity from the heart, not just the outer appearance. I just don’t want to miss out on the joy of finding such unexpected treasure.

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It was a baptism of sorts.

The rain last Saturday morning was torrential as Jerry and Karren left the motel where they’ve been staying to move into a house apartment. Driving up to the motel, I found them sitting outside with all of their belongings, waiting for me and Robby to arrive. Most of their things fit into my Honda Civic – we loaded their belongings and drove off to their new home.

The rain did not let up, reminding me of Costa Rica’s rainy season and the mission trip I took in 2003. Each afternoon, the team would stop for a while as the rains poured down, but that one day we kept working. Loading dirt and rock into the wheelbarrow, we kept moving to mix cement in the ground and make a floor for the new Sunday school building. It’s natural to resist getting rained on…to run for shelter…to shudder at the first drops falling upon you. But that day, we all just embraced it, laughing as we got soaked and continuing the work for which we came. The preacher and his wife, their small daughter, the foreman and other workers were shocked. When we left the small community, some of them spoke about that day and what it meant to watch us working through the rain.

Baptism brings one into community – making visible the need for that person in Life’s Circle … to complete the great connection. Duane Clinker said that baptism should be public because it is a “coming out as a follower of Christ.”Rain is a very public thing…filling ponds and creeks and rivers…filling potholes in neighborhood streets for children to splash and play in. Rain, as baptismal waters, ushered Jerry & Karren into a new community that day with possibilities of new life. From their isolation on the streets, to a motel room with constantly changing neighbors and now into a neighborhood where children play and roses grow, God’s grace is present…with mercies as new as the morning dew. It was a day of new beginnings.

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Someone once told me…

that our words should guide our actions. That what you say should really point to what you’re going to do. It’s easy to say you’re going to do something and never get around to it. Last week I learned just how important it is to do what you say you’re going to do.

Out at Tent City last fall, a young homeless man called “Ox” told me that he was a lifelong United Methodist – which church he belonged to – who his youth pastor was. Turns out, I know his youth pastor and thought that it’d be a good idea to call and let him know where one of his youth had landed. A couple of days later I followed through and called. Peter reflected about Ox’s troubled life and how he had ended up on the streets. The pastor thanked me for letting him know and said that he would go to Tent City to look for him. He did. Ox reconnected with him and others in the church – helping other homeless folk through Room in the Inn, and attending church regularly. When he didn’t show up that Sunday morning, people noticed. Later that day the pastor got a call from his brother saying that Ox had died.

Charles Dickens wrote in Oliver Twist: “There is no remorse so deep as that which is unavailing: to be spared its tortures, let us remember this in time.”

Following through on kind intentions can prevent unavailing remorse…I’m so thankful that procrastination did not rule the day I was to call Peter. I’m so thankful that a day’s interruptions did not block the path to Tent City for Peter. I’m so thankful that Grace paved a way between Ox and his faith community – that Mercy made the past surmountable and that the Love that never lets us go was palpable in Ox’s last days.

My friend Jerry said to me last night, “I know I’m not in control. It’s just a ride.” In the whole scheme of things – in the big picture of life, maybe we don’t have control. But over that which is within my reach, this is my prayer:

A Franciscan Benediction

May God bless us with discomfort at easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships, so that we may live deep within our hearts.

May God bless us with anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that we may work for justice, freedom and peace.

May God bless us with tears to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation and war, so that we may reach out our hands to comfort them and turn their pain into joy.

And may God bless us with enough foolishness to believe that we can make a difference in this world, so that we can do what others claim cannot be done.

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