Category Archives: pilgrimage

Main . . .

I gently reached down and touched her chapped hands. Tenderly they rested on the pew in front of us as we chorused our way through five verses of “We Three Kings.” Her hands have grown over the years, no longer balled into tiny fists; no longer reaching outward to explore a rattler or a peg board. Time has shaped her hands in accordance with the calendar, but I will always recognize them. No matter the weathering that life may bring to them, my daughter’s hands are forever burned into memory. As I stood alongside my Amelia and bravely sang the stanzas, I pondered this heart truth from my friend, Alicia:

This is“main” (Anonymous, pp. 18 – 21). “Main is not behind us. Nor is main way out ahead of us.” (Anonymous, p. 21) Yes! This is the moment I’ve been waiting for. Not tomorrow’s soon-to-be; not yesterday’s once-was. No, those moments aren’t here for me to hold. This one is. This is main. And this is enough.

I spent a lot of my earlier years striving for the main of my tomorrows. It would be easy for me to conclude (in these my latter years) that main has already been . . . that at forty-six, I’ve had my main moments. The rest of them, what’s left? Perhaps the crumbs or the last scrape of batter from the cake bowl. That’s what the world would have me to believe, the enemy as well. But God’s belief system takes a grand departure from the ordinary. God has something more to say about my main.

“I tell you, now is the time of God’s favor, now is the day of salvation.” (2 Cor. 6:2)

Now. Not yesterday; not tomorrow. Now salvation. Now deliverance. Now preservation. Now safety.

Now . . . Jesus.

There’s no greater main than Jesus. Hold him—touch his weathered hands while chorusing his weathered journey—and all moments become sacredly main.

Less looking back at a past hard to remember. Less staring into a future not easily predicted. Instead, more . . .  beautifully more, gazing into the moment right in front of me. In a pew; at the kitchen sink; sitting in traffic; under the covers; while conversing with a good book, a good friend, even with a blank computer screen. Wherever I am and whatever my hands find to do, these are all main because God is there with me. To delight in him and with him, even in the seemingly mundane, makes all of life a grand and glorious celebration. I’m not there yet, but I’m not far from taking hold of it.

“Glorious now behold Him arise,

King and God and Sacrifice;

Alleluia, Alleluia!

Earth to heaven replies.

O star of wonder, star of night,

Star with royal beauty bright;

Westward leading, still proceeding,

Guide us to thy perfect light.”

His star still leads me, and the earthly in me still cries out to the heavenly in him . . .

“Guide me, precious Jesus, to your perfect light.”

Today is main, no matter the moments in front of us, friends. Receive them sacredly, grasp them tenderly, and protect them fiercely. God’s light shines in them all. As always . . .

Peace for the journey,

PS: Today I have the privilege of making available to one of you, the audio version of Anonymous: Jesus’ Hidden Years and Yours by Alicia Chole. Leave a comment today, sharing with me about living your main in the mundane. Where have you found Jesus today? I’ll draw a winner with my next post. Shalom.

where Love lives . . .

Go to where love lives.

This was God’s message to me earlier today . . . to go out into the world and find where love lives, where love is. Where the sights and sounds of Christmas are still burning their witness—those homes and those folks who aren’t afraid to deck the halls, display a crèche, and throw in a few lights for good measure.

Go to where love lives, Elaine, and remember that Christmas is alive and well and thriving within arm’s reach of your front door.

This is becoming increasingly difficult to manage, the finding of Christmas love. Why? I think it is because there’s too much anger in the world, too much busyness, too much consumption. The ABC’s of discontent.

Angry about . . .
Busy with . . .
Consumed by . . .

Living there (with anger, busyness, and consumption), it’s easy to overlook the love. Love rarely blossoms within the soil of dissatisfaction. Instead, love often suffocates because of it. Rather than feeling the love, we suffer the sting of having missed it, wondering where it all went wrong and how we’ve arrived at this season of painful reduction. What if, instead of our anger, busyness, and consumption, we adopted an alternate approach to finding love–the ABC’s of consecrated pilgrimage rather than the ABC’s of discontent?

Approach the manger.
Behold the Child.
Consider the Gift.

Approaching, beholding, and considering Jesus. He is where love lives. Find him, and you’ll find Christmas peace.

Go to where love lives. If things are getting a little crowded in your interior—if you’re depending solely on your ability to keep the Christmas spirit alive only to realize your terrible insufficiency at doing so—why not step outside your confinement and search for the sights and sounds of Bethlehem around you. In your neighborhood. Around the table. At an altar. In the faces of family, friends, and strangers who cross your path. When you can’t find the love on your own, choose population over isolation. Don’t allow the enemy to fuel your search or to fool you into believing that Christmas cannot be found . . . that Christmas is dead.

Christmas is not dead; Christmas is alive and burning brightly in the hearts and homes of those who’ve not yet caved in to desperation or bowed low to discontent. Go, find those pilgrims, and allow their witness to be the guiding light that leads you toward renewed hope and strengthened perspective.

Go to where love lives. And then, from that filling, courageously and willingly live love before others so that they might find their way home to Jesus. Light a candle for the King and his kingdom. Together, we decorate this earth with our faith.

Prepare, ye, the way of the Lord! I’ll meet you on the road. As always . . .

Peace for the journey,

 

One with the one . . .

“You handle the holy things of God as they should be handled.”

My husband’s words stopped my heart and immediately covered it with God’s peace. This was his response to me after hearing about my morning in Sunday school, about how I had prepared (once again) enough materials for a table full of children to make Advent wreaths while, in reality, only needing one set . . . for my daughter. My response to his response?

“Sometimes, I think it’s easier to preach to the crowd than it is to preach to the one.”

And that is where we left it—mutual hearts stirred by one another’s words about holy things and preaching to the one. This was our Sunday moment, an Advent moment. A revelation, a prophecy, and a hope wrapped up in this first candle of expectation.

This was and is the point from which we move forward to the manger, believing that the One who came and the One who is to come best understands about handling the holy things of God and that in the midst of his cradling—his holding of us—we are not forgotten, because we are the why and the what behind his arrival. We are the one in the midst of the crowd. We are his one, and he is God’s One. The One with the one.

Emmanuel. God with us. God in us. God, help us!

Heavenly promise, heavenly provision, and a humble plea to take hold of this mystery that belongs to me and to handle it as holy. To cradle the ones who rest in the palms of my hands even as the One has cradled me in his.

Oh to arrive here, at this state of blessed communion and understanding! I’m not there yet, but I’m moving closer with these conversations and with these intentional steps of pilgrimage. This Christmas will not slip by me. This Christmas will change me.

How about you? How will you walk to Bethlehem this year? Might I suggest this Advent leading? Light the candle of hope in your heart and on your hearth, and see if God is not faithful to make manifest his holiness to you, in you, and, ultimately, through you.

God’s One with the one.

Expect him.

Expect Peace . . . for the journey.

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when love makes sense . . .

Life is a journey; love is a dance.

So she sings to us as we snake our way down I-40, making the trek back home. I hold his hand as we mark those miles through Appalachia, knowing that he is my home—the place where I feel safe and where the embers still burn with hope. When nothing else makes sense, when the world goes crazy and loses its grip on reality, my husband’s still doing the dance. Still taking the lead. Still holding me close and releasing me just enough to allow me my twirl, only to pull me back in so that I wind up back in the place where I began. Where I belong. Safely in his arms.

Oh that all of life would feel as safe as this—a long, winding road filled with love and hope and twirls that land us safely and certainly back to the place of our belonging. All of life can feel like this . . . can be this—a love dance through the mountains. But every now and again, the dance is interrupted, drowned out by the cacophony of noises that slow the pace and cripple the stride.

Those are the times when we must pull away, friends, and gather love closely to us so that we might remember and know for certain that all has not been lost in the night.

 

Love remains. Dances are still possible, and all of life is a journey.

Through a mountain.

Marking the miles, one after the other, on the road toward home.

The embers still burn with hope. How I pray you feel their warmth this day. As always . . .

Peace for the journey,

when seasons change. . .

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven.” –Eccl. 3:1

The changing seasons. A new one is arriving to replace the old.

Fall has always been my preference. Color. Coolness. Breezes and releases. The heat of summer is being swept away by the wind, and I am ready for flannel and jackets. I’m ready for the cover-up of fall. Time to wrap up, go in, let go, and go deeper with Jesus. Time to hide-away with him and to unwrap the treasures of this seasonal shift. Yes, an autumnal embrace is a good fit with my heart. It refreshes my soul.

What about you? What season cradles your steps? What season is currently challenging your heart? Fall? Winter? Spring? Summer?

A few thoughts from Beyond Cancer’s Scars: Laying Claim to a Stronger Spirit:

“I don’t know what season you’re walking through, but I do know that each one bares a worthiness all its own. As you trace the heart of King Solomon, I imagine that you, along with me, are able to find the lines of your story tangled up with each line of his. There’s hope to be found there, to our realizing that we live a seasonal faith and that, with that living, comes a time for every thing—every joy, pain, frustration, surrender, sorrow, and celebration. Nothing in our lives is exempt from the cyclical process of our winter, spring, summer, and fall. We can choose to walk through them with little or no effect to our hearts, but we cannot deny the possibility of growth extended to us because of them. Each season of our lives is rife with eternal possibilities. The soul shift happens when we bow low and lean into those possibilities.” –F. Elaine Olsen, Beyond Cancer’s Scars, pg. 137.

Maybe today, maybe sometime this weekend, you might take a look at King Solomon’s heart via his pen, found in Ecclesiastes 3? Maybe, like me, you’ll be able to pinpoint your current season to one of Solomon’s. In doing so, I pray your heart refreshed, encouraged, lifted up, and strengthened by the truth that (regardless of whatever season you’re walking through) you’re not walking it in isolation from the Almighty. God is hunkered down with you in the midst of your steps, and he sees clearly the marked path in front of you.

Trust in that abiding, friends, and stick close to the Father.

Wrap up; go in; let go; go deeper.

God has something more for you than currently meets the eye. Most certainly, that something will stretch your faith and shape your soul. Keep to it. As always . . .

Peace for the journey,

To learn more about you might receive the witness of Beyond Cancer’s Scars: Laying Claim to a Stronger Spirit, click here.  Also, for those of you who live in the Goldsboro, NC, area, Pine Forest UMC is hosting a book signing Saturday morning, October 13th, from 10:00 AM until. Feel free to contact me for additional details.

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