Thursday, June 25, 2009

Dearest God,

Your face changes for me. It is one time a female face, the next time a child's face or a male face. It can be my daughter, a friend, a grandchild, a girl at my church, a nurse or doctor. Sometimes even the face of a stranger.

Made in the image of God. Who can wear the face of God? Who can carry God's name? Who is worthy? Whose voice do I hear calling out my name? The sweet voice of heaven.

At times I lose my way. When my heart is aching, my soul is wandering, my mind is swirling, I cannot see my way clear. I cry out expecting an immediate answer. When I need help, I reach out praying for an outstretched hand to grab hold. And sometimes when I don't "feel" anything, I simply wait patiently using my knowledge of your presence.

Today as I rested from my hospital adventure I trusted in you. When my insides still felt awful and my body was so weary from the internal assault, I lay in my bed breathing in the light of your presence. For surely as everything else felt askew, this one thing, your loving presence held me steady.

Your face,
your voice
present themselves
to me.
I know them.
For I
have seen
your face,
heard your voice
before.
Tears of gratitude
bubble up
and overflow
in prayer.
I love you,
Lord,
for again
you have been
my salvation.

Love, Andrea

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Dear God,

I got sicker and sicker until I went to the hospital. In the emergency room they quickly worked to make sure my heart was okay. My endocrine system went haywire again dropping one level and raising two others. Weak, so weak I couldn't hold up my head.

These spells are frightening, Lord. I can't do anything but go to the hospital. I can't stop them, no pill or exercise can alter my situation. I feel helpless.

Hours later I returned home to rest. A week or two, it takes a week or two to recover.

Such moments teach me to be prepared to die. The doctor says that a spell could take my life if I don't get help. I have had several brushes where I felt my systems shutting down but they stopped short enabling me to continue on. Weak, exhausted and unable to do anything but rest, I have to rely on my ability to be patient, to let others help me when necessary. I have to give in to my limitations until my strength returns. I have to increase my trust in you to help me.

O God,
rescuer and savior,
I rest
in your care.
I learn
that I
never have
the final word.
You determine
my life,
my days
on this earth.
You whisper
hope and love
to me
when I
am afraid.
Whatever calm
enters my soul
comes from heaven.
I trust
in you.

Love, Andrea

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Dearest God,

What is life without helping others? I worked all day on mission auction items getting them ready for a fundraiser in November. Each item carefully selected for its value, cost and bidability (is that a word?) Each item bringing dollars for mission efforts somewhere in the world. What a privilege.

I feel myself close to the heart of those in need. What can I do to stretch the dollars helping as many people as possible? I make the baskets attractive filled with great items. I clean up the package making it look as good as possible - no dents, lumps or bumps, tears or rips. I pray.

O Lord,
these items
are precious
because of
what they
can do
for others.
I give thanks
and pray.
Stretch,
O Lord,
the value
of these things
for your purpose.

Love, Andrea
for

Monday, June 22, 2009

Dearest God,

Yesterday I said goodbye to my congregation. My last Sunday. I sang all my favorite songs, hymns that express my faith in music. I preached my last message. I danced.

And today I reflected back upon my nine years. Good times and bad. Happy times and sad. But there was always one constant...your loving presence. In the good times I celebrated. In the bad and the sad I cried out for help and guidance, for grace and vision, for strength and courage. I prayed for peace. You always came to me. I was never alone.

Throughout the day I said thank you. I was aware of your mercy throughout the nine years. I recognized your compassion, acknowledged your help and gave thanks.

Reflection is the opportunity to take a larger look at what has taken place. I did not get caught up in the difficulties and hardships but rather discovered how you had been in the cracks all along. I could see the good with the difficult. I saw how you had transformed us along the way. I noticed the quiet ways you came, gently blowing your spirit wind to change hearts, renewing, remaking, restoring. Clearly this was your work. My reflection was filled with your joy.

Thank you,
God from
on high.
You are
the source
of my joy.
I lift up
my gratitude,
give thanks.
Let the work
of reflection come
as I still
my soul
and allow
my heart
to speak.
Open the doors
of my heart,
Spirit God,
and let your
loving spirit
burn within me.
Remind me,
so I may
thank you again
and again
and again.

Love, Andrea

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Dear God,

I could not have felt freer. As I unbuttoned my robe revealing my dance clothing, I felt your loving presence. My only desire was to dance for you, to tell you with my whole being of my gratitude for your trust in me. My parish ministry was ending, my work nearly finished, my commitment coming to a conclusion; therefore, it was time to pay my tribute, to say thank you.

I am not really a dancer in the sense that I have taken lessons giving me the skills to dance to music. However, my soul dances frequently to the tune of your spirit. I hear your voice, feel your presence, know your grace and all of me wants to respond in kind. How can I possibly remain in place when faith is so active inside me? How can I ignore the impulse to move toward you?

As I listened with both my heart and soul to the soloist singing one of my favorite songs, I surrendered my need to be perfect in every way. I simply released my joy into the atmosphere of your house. And I danced, lifting my hands, my arms, my love.

My joy
was a spillover
of your joy.
I felt it
pour down
upon me.
Like sweet rain
from heaven
I let it
flow down,
let it
drench me
with your spirit.
My pores
opened up
claiming each drop,
allowing all
of me
to move
in joy,
in love,
in faith.

Gratefully, Andrea

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Dear God,

I felt so weak this morning. My legs wanted to give way. I felt wobbly, unsteady and heartbroken. But I had to prepare for my last Sunday. I prayed to you.

I went to church early to practice my dance. I wanted to dance for you, to thank you, to give my offering for many blessings. I wanted to share in thanksgiving for the years of entrusted ministry. I prayed.

I practiced and practiced, allowing the rough draft music to get inside my skin. "To God be the glory..." I danced to give you glory. I allowed my body to do what it wanted to do naturally. My arms wanted to extend higher and higher, hoping to reach higher into heaven, somehow touching the hem of your divine garment. I prayed.

O God,
a heart
filled with loss
is a heart
desperate
to love you.
Thank you
for allowing me
to dance
for you.

Love, Andrea

Friday, June 19, 2009

Dearest God,

What I wanted, needed, held on for did not come. The last vestige of hope died. I sobbed and left. My insides heaved as my soul said goodbye.

I put my trust in you, dear God. I gave in to the impulse to trust you completely, to let flow what would come or not. I took your hand, stayed close, listened to your voice. I had hoped for something more. I got something more but not what I hoped for. The death of my dream.

I hold on long past the normal time. I fantasize and dream in my own mind those things I want so deeply, so desperately. I let my heart play games inside me thinking that things will ultimately change. And when they don't I wait longer. I try harder. I give more.

But tonight I realized it was truly over.

Love entangles us,
dear God.
The love
for a spouse,
a child,
a friend
is meant
to entwine us
with another.
Once entwined
with another
it's painful
to see
the branches
wither and die.
Once completely entwined,
now dying
its own death.
My sorrow
is full.

Love, Andrea

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Dear God,

Rose and I had lunch, my friend from the 1970's. It's been so many years since we have spent time together. She had heart surgery just a few years ago. She had ovarian cancer in 2007. It returned in 2008. Her doctor told her to live life large.

For three hours we talked about life and relationships. She has an adoring husband who tends to her every need. He holds the can while she vomits from chemotherapy. He holds her when she is afraid. He makes her appointments and goes with her. He thinks of needs even before she has them. He is her best friend.

I remember Rose in the '70's. We were close friends at church. The local newspaper wrote an article about our friendship. I remember the big picture in the paper. We were laughing like crazy. We shared concerns about parenting, faith and family.

Today as I looked into the eyes of my friend, I saw you. I saw how you had provided me a beautiful friend in the early days of my motherhood, how even now, some thirty years later we could celebrate in our children's achievements in life. I also saw the frailty of human life. The doctor said the cancer will continue to return.

After three hours I rushed off for an appointment but I kissed my friend on the cheek thanking you for bringing her to my party and back into my life.

Thank you
for my friend Rose,
dear God.
Bless her
as she
blessed me
today.
Let her life
be large,
I pray.

Love, Andrea

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Dearest God,

I wanted to be home. I needed to be home. Travelling like a vagabond from place to place for weeks with only temporary places to lay my head left me feeling without a center. I went home.

To be home in my own bed, eating from my own dishes, bathing in my own shower gave me a sense of being normal once again. The quiet calm of being alone in my own home renewed me, allowing me to feel once again the joys of home.

Forgive me,
Lord,
when I fail
to be completely
at home
with you,
when I need
a constancy
of place.
You are
my home
and I pray
for your strength
to be
a vagabond
for you.
Teach me,
I pray.

Love, Andrea

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Dearest God,

Words are expressions of the heart. Some words go deeper, stemming from the soul. Sunday evening's retirement party reflections come from the soul.

Participating in the ongoing call of ministry for the glory of God speaks so deeply to my soul. To be called by God in 1972 in a long line of disciples gives me cause to pause, to bow down, to humble myself in the face of God. To do the work of your Son, to hand people the keys to the kingdom, to open doors, to shine the light is pure unadulterated joy.

To see the faces of persons who have been touched by Christ, who gathered to honor ministry as an act of devotion to faith left me without words. I could not look up, my head down in humble adoration to the One I serve. I did not know what to do with myself.

So many hugs and kisses, so many beautiful words, so many smiles and happy faces in one place. So many offerings to you, my Beloved, saying thank you for joy that has come from heaven. Our joy is not just about one human person, encounters in ministry but rather it is about a rootedness in faith that has bound us together into eternity.

I sing
a song
of faith,
to you,
my Beloved.
I offer
to you
my deepest joy,
an act
of my devotion
for all
your many gifts.
Your gift
of faith
is sufficient
to fill
my life forever.

Eternally yours, Andrea

Monday, June 15, 2009

Dearest God,

I could not look up. I could not gaze around the room to see all those who had come to join me in a farewell celebration. I could not.

So many people came. One by one they would come up to me. Embracing one another, we remembered, reflected, recalled our shared life experiences. Jeanne and Ron from Michigan, Rose and Ed from Tennessee, why would they come so far? I thought perhaps they had come for something else and just happened to be in town. But when each couple confirmed that they had come just to celebrate with me, I buried my head in their shoulders and wept.

My family came. My sister and brother, my aunt and cousin, even second and third cousin, niece and nephew, great nieces and nephews, two of my daughters, a son-in-law, grandchildren.

My covenant group who has provided spiritual friendship across 21 years came, all four of them. How many thousand prayers have they prayed for me, my family, my churches across the years?

And friends, so many friends from all my churches. Why would they come so far on a beautiful sunny June day to share in my life? So many of them?

So many beautiful words spoken about my life, my ministry, my influence on people's lives and churches. I am not accustomed to such openness about my own life's purpose as seen through the eyes of others. I listened, watching their faces as they spoke. I could barely take it in.

After all the words had been shared, the funny things presented, I was escorted to speak and, of course, I could not. My tears flowed from the depths of my soul, a mixture of joy and sorrow, of celebration and loss.

"Do you know what a joy it is to love and serve God? I opened my mouth and said. I don't remember much more of what I spoke after thanking everyone for joining me. I was too full of emotion to remember.

The scripture says
that Mary
pondered these things
in her heart.
I am pondering,
still too full
to give voice
to my
heart's experience.

Loving you always, Andrea

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Dear God,

Opening up the doors to my soul, allowing the light to shine in and then permitting the truths found therein to be released is a case in trust. Who can I trust with my truths? How can I be safe as I share openly about my own heart's hurt? How can I keep on trusting and remain secure?

I knew days ago that I would be transparent in my preaching. I knew I would share my heart's sorrow. I would confess my days of breathing out the life-giving air and not wanting to fill back up. But I would also share my days of grabbing for hope, allowing you to take charge of me, giving me another chance at life.

Faith is. Faith is alive. Faith is foundational. Faith is life itself lived beyond the boundaries of a purely human existence. Faith says it is okay to live an abundant life, not in the sense of material possessions but rather beyond the simple daily fare. Faith is eating with you.

I got up with faith this morning. I drove to church with faith. I prayed with faith. And while crying my heart's sorrow I preached with faith.

Hope-giving God,
I spend
more time
at your feet
these days.
My sorrows
and joys
mingle together.
One gives hope
to the other.
And hope
gives faith.
And faith
returns me
to hope
and life.

Love, Andrea

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Dearest God,

A meal with my covenant group gave rise to your grace. For twenty one years your mercy has lifted my soul to great heights. Ministers, friends, colleagues, confidants, family members, I allowed them into my soul as we journeyed into your sacred mysteries.

We remembered and reflected upon that grace across so many years. We have opened ourselves in trust to one another. Where there was a hurt, we shared it. Where there was a challenge, we trusted the sacred nudge. Where there was sorrow, we held it in sacred hands.

My friends and I have wept and laughed together. We have played and teased one another. But most importantly we have pilgrimed the sacred walk together never being satisfied with a shallow faith existence. We have yearned for the deeper things of life. We have wanted to know you in the depths. We have plunged into the unknown knowing somehow that we would find you in yet other surprising ways.

Always maintaining appropriate boundaries we have found our way to you. We have placed ourselves at your feet acknowledging that life is best lived in intention with you. We have heard your sacred whisper, listened to your words of hope, encouragement, courage, challenge and peace. Traveling the sacred roads together we have discovered your tremendous grace.

You are a
merciful God.
Through tears
and laughter
you have made
yourself known.
You have
revealed yourself
in beautiful ways
always showing
your great compassion
and care.
Your love
has seeped
into the pores
of my soul.
My heart
will ever
be grateful.
May I
bring you glory
forevermore.

Love, Andrea

Friday, June 12, 2009

Dear God,

I gave in to tears today. The lid blew. I'm told that tears are good right now. I cry them when I need to.

What you have taught me is that I do not need fear walking into darkness where despair lurks. I do not walk alone. Faith keeps me balanced, gives me hope and challenges me to remember your everlasting goodness.

I walked in faith the rest of the day feeling your loving embrace.

I'll walk
with you
always,
dearest God,
I'll walk
with you
always.

Love, Andrea

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Dear God,

When will the tears dry up? When will my heart stop hurting? When will my soul undergo the adjustment of loss?

I live in the waiting time. For so long, so very long I wanted, anticipated, expected something more. My love was waining as I wanted so very much for my pot to be refilled. I could fill it with the wonders of creation. Nature is such a filler. But I wanted more from the one I loved.

What I have learned is that sometimes we simply don't receive what we yearn for. Life is not filled with simple, easy buttons that we push with instantaneous gratification. Doesn't happen. And I don't think I would want it to. However, it seems that small, simple things should quite naturally flow from a loved one. Doesn't always happen either.

What I know in this waiting time is that trusting you should be enough. Waiting for life to continue in a new way with trust should be the goal of each new day. Trusting in your time should be sufficient.

Forgive me,
Lord,
when I
cry out
for more.
Forgive me
when I whine,
pouring out
my pain
to you.
Forgive my
unrealistic expectations.
Teach me
to be clay
in your hands.

Love, Andrea

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Dear God,

A simple, peaceful quiet life. That's what I tell people when they ask me about retirement. Is such a life possible? Simplicity, not complicated or complex. Simple things, simple food, simple living. Peaceful, the absence of conflict, an environment of peacefulness. Quiet, no TV, radio or sound-making equipment, a vast solitude allowing natural sounds to be heard. A simple, peaceful, quiet life, that's what I want.

But none of this is possible without you. You are the author of simplicity, peace, and solitude. You instruct the universe to live in peace and harmony. You have allowed us to create with you technological wonders making life more efficient and resourceful. But in the midst of these marvels, we have lost touch with the simple resources of life. We fill up with iPod music, computer visual screens filled with God knows what, television shows and more. Whatever happened to simple conversations between two people? Where did the desire go to get to know the inner depths of one another? Where did the ability disappear to to hold hands and walk in quiet? What happened to moments of just looking into each other's eyes and knowing love from the depths? Where did simple love go? Where is the capacity to just sit and wonder, allowing imagination to reign? Have we given up the simple for the complicated? Have we surrendered the natural for something plastic, vinyl and artificial? In the end what will we possess?

On days when my whole being is being changed, I wonder.

Lover of creation
I still pause
to give thanks
for the beauty
all around me.
I know
that a moment
spent with
your creation
is better
than a thousand
spent otherwise.
Keep my eyes
on the beauty
of life,
remembering how,
where, and
why that beauty
was created.
Help me
live in gratitude
for the simple,
the peaceful
and the quiet.

Love, Andrea

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Dear God,

I finished packing three more boxes for Africa. More books, my robe and stoles. As I lifted my stoles to pack them, I felt the emotion building in my gut. I handled them as if heaven bound. I wrapped them in plastic and gently placed them in the last box. I leaned down and kissed the plastic.

I asked my administrative assistant to take a picture of me sitting in the sanctuary next to my boxes. I sat down on the hardwood floor and put my hands on a couple of boxes when the emotion came up and spilled over. I leaned my head down and wept. Happy tears, bittersweet tears, sad tears. Tears from years of doing ministry now coming to a new end.

After the picture taking I asked to be alone for prayer.

Thank you,
O God,
for entrusting me
with the work
of ministry.
Thank you
for loaning me
the books,
the robe
the stoles,
the message.
Thank you
for your grace
and love,
for your patience
and help.
I am
so grateful.

Love, Andrea

Monday, June 8, 2009

My dearest God,

Your call goes out. We hear and respond. When I learned that I had to open the 18 boxes already prepared to ship to Africa, I sighed. And not only that I had to lift every book, about 750, from its crate. I had to decide what kind of book it was and how many were packed in the container. As I was opening the third box, I thought I couldn't do another one. I had already spent weeks getting them together. So I left the sanctuary and was walking down the hall when I nearly bumped into a friend who asked if there was anything she could do to help me. An angel dropped from heaven.

As Laraine and I opened boxes, lifted out the books, counted them and then filled out each form, we talked, no, we shared. We talked about what is important to us in the worship service, how we want to grow in our faith, and be more of what God wanted us to be. Had I remained in the sanctuary grumbling, working for several more hours preparing for shipment, I would have missed the angel you sent me.

Sometimes I get so focused on my own self that I miss your gentle call. I may be so filled with other voices telling me what I still need to do that I fail to hear the one voice that can calm all the others. Sometimes I am unable to see and hear the divine.

But today, O God, you reminded me of your presence and sent me down the hall where your angel awaited me.

The voice
of heaven
is sweet,
dear God.
No sweeter anywhere.
When I listen
and hear,
I know
you are near.
I know
you desire
to lift
me up,
to teach me,
to challenge me
in all
the areas
of my life.
Tune me in
to your frequency
so I
never fail
to find you,
I pray.

Love, Andrea

Sunday, June 7, 2009

Dearest God,

I sat in my chair in the chancel as people, one by one, came forward, knelt and prayed over the boxes of books and stoles bound for Africa. I was touched, so very touched. The books will arrive in Ghana fulled prayed for. Children will read the books and learn about the music of faith. Pastors will drape their shoulders with stoles gently loved, remembering not only their baptism but also their ordination. And so your ministry will continue.

The work of faith is a beautiful, mysterious thing. While I have loved my books and especially my stoles, I do not feel they belong to me. They are yours used for your purpose.

You are God;
there is
no other.
I bow
at your feet
remembering your call,
celebrating your grace.

Love, Andrea

Saturday, June 6, 2009

My dear God,

How is it, O Lord, that two people can see things so differently? How can people see exactly the same thing, yet interpret it so opposite of each other? How can people find a common language to talk to one other?

I value diversity, unique ways of seeing things. I may have a piece of reality, someone else has a piece and others have their pieces too. We come together bringing our pieces to a puzzle. We need each other to see the whole picture. What a beautiful thing it is to work together to build something, recognizing that none of us has the whole picture. I can still only see my piece.

Perhaps, O God, the challenge in life is to learn the language of the other, to listen, to give ear to another opinion. Per chance there is something to be learned in opening one's self to more of what is rather than what is not.

Teach me,
dear Lord,
the art
of listening
and learning.
Teach me
your way.
May I stand
humbly before you,
giving way
to you
and your plan.
May my
first prayer
be a prayer
of humility,
love and devotion.

Love, Andrea

Friday, June 5, 2009

Dear God,

I started the day by cleaning out the clutter in the kitchen, not my own, someone else's. I took everything out of the cabinets. I washed the shelves, threw away odd plastic lids and trash from the drawers. I put all the glasses together, the pots and pans, baking dishes and foodstuff items. I organized, making it easier to find things, to put like items together. It felt good.

I wish life was that simple. Uncluttering the clutter, finding usable space for all things, putting things together, bringing order to the disorder and chaos. "A place for everything and everything in its place." But it's just not that way.

I like an organized, uncluttered, ordered life. I like to know where things go so I can put them in their assigned place. I want to put things in the right spot. I want things to be efficient and usable, helpful and orderly. But it seems just as I get things put into place, something comes along to mess it all up. Things come tumbling down and I have to pick up the pieces and start over.

I need to begin each day with a specific prayer to release my need to put things in order. I need to begin each day with a prayer of thanksgiving for what I have, clutter and all. I need to begin each day with a heart full of you that sees life through a divine lens. I need to see what you see at the beginning of each day. I need to begin with you.

May I see
life's trials
and travails
through a
sacred lens,
O God.
May I begin
each day
with gratitude.
May I
let go
of what
needs releasing
and pick up
what needs
to be
lifted up.
May I trust
in you
rather than
ask you
to bless
what I
have already done.
May I
trust more,
release more,
love more,
forgive more,
dear God,
I pray.

Love, Andrea

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Dear God,

I taped up my theological books bound for Africa. I used the dolly to carry them to the sanctuary. I placed them in front on both sides of the altar. I looked at them.

Twenty five years of ministry is contained in those boxes. I used the books to teach me, to lead and guide me, to help me see life from a particular perspective. I turned to those books when I wanted to understand, when I needed to understand what the scriptures meant. I opened the books to find an idea, a lead, a story. My theology was borne from seminary books, lectures, questions, challenge and doubt. I let them open me up, change my mind, renovate my faith. I trusted the authors but gave myself permission to question further.

Recently someone said I was generous for giving my books to a village in Africa. It sounded strange to me. I simply stated that my books were simply on loan. I cared for them temporarily. It is time for them to move on to others. Coming to acknowledge that everything is from God in some way or another keeps me from being too attached to things around me.

Gifts from you,
my books
were gifts
from you.
Who is generous?
You are generous,
my God.
What I have
has come
from you.
Seven hundred books,
gifts of faith,
gifts of love.
How grateful
I am
for your generosity.

Love, Andrea

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Dear God,

Setting my sights on you helps me see life through the lens of faith. As my life is rapidly changing, I remember the constancy of your presence all around me.

Packing boxes with mementos of the past, I see how your hand has touched each thing. My musical tapes, where does music come from if not from you? It has heaven's touch. And my books, every tidbit of knowledge is a result of the process of learning and where does that ability come from at creation? Something, someone divine. Stoles and robes and altar cloths come from sacred threads woven together with grace, love and hope. Angels, pictures, special gifts are ways to see you, to feel the deep connection I have with you. I may be downsizing, giving away gifts to help others in ministry, separating papers, files, books and distributing mementos to friends but my life in you remains intact. A gift with eternal dimensions.

I stop
to express
my gratitude
for a
life lived
in faith.
All that
I have accumulated
over the years
of ministry
remind me
of who
I have
worked for.
It is you,
O Lord,
you.
I thank you
from the bottom
of my heart.

Love, Andrea

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Dearest God,

I thought of my father who would have been 85 today. I remember spelling bees, dancing on his shoes because he was 6'4", eating tomatoes and cheating at Rook. I recall teasing his mother, coniving with his witty twin brother and stories of childhood and the war. I think of precious time spent with Daddy, too little time due to the fact he worked three jobs when I was little and then one later when he traveled all the time. Such moments become all the more valuable when I think of them.

The older I become the more I realize that life experiences are constantly unfolding. Each one brings something a little different. They can bring great joy, despair, gladness, sorrow, imagination and creativity, illumination and cause to pause to give thanks or make repairs.

On this day
I give thanks
to you,
my Creator,
for the experiences
of life.
Whether joy
or sorrow,
love, peace
or pain,
you are
ever present
to fortify,
help, guide
or challenge.
Your love
restores and renews,
remembers every moment
as an opportunity
for greater faith
and appreciation.
Today I
give thanks
for Daddy.

Love, Andrea

Monday, June 1, 2009

Dearest God,

I sat on the floor in my cluttered, chaotic study filled with boxes, papers, files, books, trash, trinkets, and sacks of clothing for a local charity. I lighted the candle in the friendship circle on my coffee table altar. I put on my music. My angel cards sat nearby. The truth angel chose me. I let my tears come as I looked around the room.

Change and transition may be necessary elements in life but they are not easy. A part of me wants to cry out for this transition to be complete. But another part of me wants it to remain where it is because I will have to say goodbye. Saying goodbye is so painful and yet I believe by faith that new life awaits me whatever that may look like. At this moment I have no idea what shape it will take. I know I am learning to trust you more and more for my future.

Hello and goodbye
are intrinsically
tied together.
For every hello
there is
a goodbye.
And for
every goodbye
there is
a hello.
Whether hello
or goodbye
teach me
to trust you,
Beloved Christ,
I pray.

Love, Andrea

Sunday, May 31, 2009

Dearest God,

Glory! What is this glory talked about in the bible? Is it a celebration, a manifestation of the divine, an experience of joy? What is glory?

I am sure I discovered glory this Sunday morning! Or perhaps I participated in glory. Maybe I had a part in opening a door to glory.

I am sure glory is your work. Of that I am certain. I am convinced it originates from the divine hand, your hand, Most Holy. I think glory is a mixture of divine joy, love, grace, hope, humility, and faith. I believe we see glory as we open ourselves to you. When I open my heart completely to you, when I want to give all of me to you, when I acknowledge your presence, and I place myself in a mood of trust, I believe glory can burst on the scene. Not like some drama that opens at the local theatre, but rather as a beautiful outpouring of sacred relational love. It is you loving us and us loving you back. It is a belief and an active work of the human and divine sharing together. It is a trust, a sacred presence, an honoring. It is God.

Our morning worship service was like no other. Oh yes, your presence is always apparent. But today there was so much joy, so much celebration, so many people participating in giving themselves to your church in order to give thanks for your powerful loving spirit. What spirit was present! What a celebration of eight young people being confirmed. What love we felt at your feet. In our hearts we bowed down to give you utmost praise.

My personal joy was so full. Could I have known more joy? I can't be sure but worshipping you together with so many others longing to sing out their faith widened my heart's ability to love you. The worship service made me love you more.

I come
to you,
my wondrous God,
to bring
to you
all my praise.
I lift up
all my joy
knowing you alone
are the source
of joy.
All that
I am
and all
that I have
are yours.
What can
I do
but acknowledge
the source
of my ability
and desire
to honor you.
I love you,
Great God.
Receive all
my gratitude,
I pray.

Love, Andrea