Psalm 63

Comfort and Assurance in God’s Presence

¹ O God, you are my God, I seek you, my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you,
    as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.
² So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary, beholding your power and glory.
³ Because your steadfast love is better than life, my lips will praise you.
⁴ So I will bless you as long as I live; I will lift up my hands and call on your name.

⁵ My soul is satisfied as with a rich feast, and my mouth praises you with joyful lips
⁶ when I think of you on my bed, and meditate on you in the watches of the night;
⁷ for you have been my help, and in the shadow of your wings I sing for joy.
⁸ My soul clings to you; your right hand upholds me.

Outside our front door we have a hanging basket. It has one sprig of a bright red geranium and a morning dove who sits patiently and oh so quietly on her one egg. Today, as it rained pretty hard, there she stayed, not moving, nestled down in the basket keeping her egg warm and waiting out the storm. She is practicing social seclusion, and I thought how easy and normal she makes it all seem.

Quite a few years ago, I took part in a 2 yr. program about spiritual formation. We met for one week every quarter at a monastic retreat center. The first week there I found out that after vespers or evening prayer, there would be silence, silence until morning prayer! I remember thinking this may be hard to do and may not go very well at all! But honestly after that first week I found myself longing to be back there, to be in the rhythm of a daily routine which included silence. 

In one of the classes we had, the teacher highlighted Psalm 63. She spoke about her longing for God when her life wasn’t going as planned and this Psalm gave her comfort. As I was thinking of this, I reread it and felt God speaking to me during this unusual time that we find ourselves in. It gave me a sense of comfort and peace. 

It’s been difficult for me not to be with my grandchildren, family and friends, and I’m sure for you as well. We all feel removed from our previous life as we knew it, we are having to social distance, social seclusion, not touch. My world has become ever more quiet, and through this I am brought back to a place of stillness, of rest and focused on my own longing for God’s presence in my life.

After our class we were asked to go someplace and sit in quiet stillness and write a Psalm or Haiku of our own longing. So I offer you this opportunity to write yours. I am sharing the one I wrote back in 2002, funny how I can relate it for such a time as this. Sit in a comfortable place, relax and breathe deeply and slowly as you become centered in silence. There is no judgement, allow this to be a time of healing and comfort, just let the words and feelings flow.

My haiku, my longing for God…

“Wandering the familiar parchedness of my soul longing to be where you are.

When will the healing rains come, when will the seeds begin to grow?

My desert longs for showers of restoration

I cry out for you, I sing of your holiness

Glory to God on high

Let the rains flow from the mountain peaks

Let the waters rush to the depths of my despair

You are there, you hold me in the silence of your love…you are there”

“Hope is the things with feathers that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without the word, and never stops at all.” Emily Dickerson

And so, in due time mama bird’s baby will emerge from its shelter and mama’s quiet waiting will be over and a new way of life will begin. 

Blessings, 

Brenda

O God, in the shadow of your wings may we always be, where comfort and peace surrounds us, as we become more continually aware of your presence in all the moments of our lives. 

Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. Matthew 5:4

The other day I was scrolling through my feed on Facebook. Many of the posts were how people were trying to stay connected with each other, how they “scored” a prized item at the grocery store, and how they were juggling working from home and learning this whole new thing called distance learning. But one post stuck out to me. It was different from all the rest. This post was about the loss they have felt due to the coronavirus.

I have been so caught up in making sure that I am connecting with people and that needs are being met that I hadn’t really thought about the grief this pandemic has caused. The loss of lives is obvious, and I have thought and prayed for all who have experienced such grief.  But this post caused me to pause and to think about the other losses that people have experienced.

There have been school concerts that won’t happen, driving tests for your first driver’s license, proms, graduations, sister retreats and teachers who have had their classes abruptly ended.  Each person’s losses are as unique as the person experiencing the loss.  There are all kinds of grief and we are all experiencing some degree of it. All the mixtures of emotions that we are feeling are real and valid. 

While we are all experiencing losses, both big and small, it isimportant to remember that there will be healing. It just takes time. And in that time of healing, God is patient; and no matter how long it takes, God will be by your side through it all. God Beside, asong from Stephen Fischbacher of Fischy Music says it best:

God behind, God beside, God ahead

In the sunshine and the rain

In the laughter and the pain

With us in the morning

With us in the day

With us in the evening

Always, always, always

God was with us before the pandemic. God is with us as we navigate through the emotions and the losses of this pandemic. God will be with us through the healing. God is with us always, always, always.

Loving God, your presence brings comfort in this time when many are struggling with feelings of loss.  Surround us with your strength and help us be patient as we move through the process of grieving. Help us to keep our eyes open to others who are grieving so that we may comfort them.  We thank you for always being by our side. Amen

Marty

As he walked along, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, ‘Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?’ Jesus answered, ‘Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him. We must work the works of him who sent me while it is day; night is coming when no one can work. As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world. – John 9:1-5 (NRSV)

“This is going to be the hardest and the saddest week of most Americans’ lives…” Dr. Jerome Adams,  U.S. Surgeon General.

These are indeed difficult, dark times. What started as a vague worry became an inconvenience and now we feel a rising sense of dread. By now many of us know at least one person who has been diagnosed with COVID-19. We have seen the numbers rising exponentially.

And again the irony – or the opportunity. The week that the Surgeon General declares will likely be the worst is the very week that for Christians is the most holy. This is the week when we “plumb the depths.” Traditionally we hold a service called “Tenebrae” at which we tell the story of Jesus passion and death, extinguishing candles as we go, and end in darkness. This darkness symbolizes Jesus’ death.

Another tradition in this week is to kindle a new flame on Easter morning. The darkness of Jesus’ death is driven away by the bright shining dawn of a new day. And the light that was in the world through one person, Jesus, becomes light for the whole world reflected in the lives of those who believe.  

Jesus is the light of the world. In the gathering darkness his light shines through our work.

Even as we travel this lonesome highway, we have confidence. We are not alone. Christ is with us.

Lord Jesus, be our light. In this time of fear, give us hope. In this time of doubt, give us confidence. In this time of disease, bring us healing in body, mind, and spirit. Guide the minds and hands of all who care and who fight this pandemic. Even in the darkest night, we know the dawn awaits. Amen.

Pastor George

Holy week begins on Palm Sunday. That is this Sunday, two days from now! Lent has had extra meaning for us this year. As one of my colleagues posted “This is the Lentiest Lent I ever Lented!” 

This is the week of the lowest lows and highest highs of the Christian year. The scriptures allow us to experience these for ourselves:

– Along with the crowd in Jerusalem we shout “Hosanna! God save us!” How many of us find ourselves searching for miraculous healing of this affliction!

– Along with the disciples in the upper room, we learn that as God made covenant with a people long ago, so Jesus makes a new covenant with us. We commemorate that covenant in a common meal. How many of us are rediscovering or longing for the joy of conversation over a simple meal. As well, we rediscover the importance of simple acts of mercy and service. 

– Along with those close friends of Jesus, we seek to stay up with Him as He prays in the garden. Yet we find ourselves weary. How many of us have been suddenly awakened from our slumber by events which surprise us and turn our world upside-down. How many of us are tempted to deny our knowledge of God in our questioning of how this could happen!

– Along with those most dear to Jesus, the women who got things done, we observe the horrors of the world and prepare ourselves to tend to the hurting, the lost, the least, the dying. And then we will go to the tomb, to take care of business.

Unlike them, we know what comes next.

The challenges of this strange time allow us the luxury to take the full journey of Holy Week, and not simply jump blithely from Palm Sunday to Easter.

Dear Lord, We know how the story continues with Easter. We know that this time apart will pass, and that we will soon be together again. Allow us to take the opportunity to plumb the depths with you at our side. Help us to explore our fear, our doubt, our disbelief. Help us to be in spirit with those who are hurting. Help us to reach out in all the ways available to us. And then, on Easter, help us to rise into a new understanding; a renewed relationship; a new and personal celebration of joy and the new life you are bringing. This we pray in the name of Jesus. Amen.

George