Showing posts with label Lectionary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lectionary. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 14, 2021

Overwhelmed

 

Wednesday, July 14, 2021

I cry out to the Lord; I plead for the Lord’s mercy.  I pour out my complaints before him and tell him all my troubles.  When I am overwhelmed, you alone know the way I should turn.  Wherever I go, my enemies have set traps for me.  I look for someone to come and help me, but no one gives me a passing thought!  No one will help me; no one cares a bit what happens to me.  Then I pray to you, O Lord.  I say, “You are my place of refuge.  You are all I really want in life.  Psalm 142:1-5

In preparing for celebrating the Lord’s Supper with a group of other preachers I realized I was a bit consumed by commitments.  My schedule looks like a crazed chicken with print cartridges for feet had been turned loose to run all over my calendar!  Here I was, contemplating what it would take to be a non-anxious presence as the celebrant, realizing (in that honest look-in-the-mirror moment), that I was probably the most-anxious guy who would sit at that table.   

It’s a common state of affairs these days; there’s just not enough time for everything you planned, much less what everybody else in your world wants.  As the Psalmist, it’s no trouble at all to make the leap from well, I’m a little busier than I’d like to be…all the way to stop this crazy merry-go-round, I need to get off before I explode!

The key word in that compound thought is OVERWHELMED

If you can honestly say you’ve never felt overwhelmed, you’re either quite disconnected from everyone and everything, and might consider checking with a psychotherapist for some new meds…or you’re not really being honest.  Anxiety, fear, concern, frazzled…there are so many ways to describe that sense in the pit of your stomach that alerts you to the fact that you can’t possibly complete all that life has dumped on your plate!

Then I read today’s Psalm again.  A Psalm generally appears 3 times each week in the Lectionary Readings, and I’m certain the Lord (knowing how dense I can be) ordained it that way.  Sometimes it takes much rain to soak a dry mind!  It finally sunk-in; the Psalmist knew how to sing woe, despair, and agony on me as well as anyone; in short – he is me!

And look what I discovered – the Psalmist opens up that part of my innermost being and lays it out for the sun to get at it – to chase the darkness and fear, to cull the briars from where I’m walking barefoot.  He opens the prayer book of my heart and the notes resonate deep-within how God, as my refuge from all the tormenting angst of the day’s demands, is all my heart really wanted anyway. 

And there is a reason for that.  Created in the image of God, even a sin-stained life can recognize the light that still lingers there, waiting to be set on the hills of our heart and soul.  It illuminates all the goodness of the hand of God from which we’ve sprung.  And it draws us to Him.  And that is enough to turn the anxiety of all the shortcomings I feel into nothing but gratitude for God’s grace.  If there is any place in this universe where Russell doesn’t come up short, it’s when he is bathed in the forgiveness of God’s loving embrace.

That’s a different kind of being overwhelmed; beloved, I’ll take that over what the world wants to give me…any day!

For You Today

If you’re feeling a bit overwhelmed by the workload, crises, world news, or what to do about your child’s failing grades in school….or maybe just the whole lot of what you’ve been dealing-with…take an extra moment with Psalm 142 today.  Nothing that’s been chasing you will stand a chance at robbing the peace you’ll find there.

You chew on that as you hit the Rocky Road; have a blessed day!   

[1] Title and Other Images:  Pixabay.com  Unless noted, Scripture quoted from The New Living Translation©    

Thursday, February 18, 2016

Lent!

Thursday, February 18, 2016

VIDEO


My heart has heard you say, “Come and talk with me.”
    And my heart responds, “Lord, I am coming.”   
Psalm 27:8(NLT)

Our home’s curbside appeal is often centered more around liturgical colors than HGTV’s Property Brothers.  This season has our purple-draped cross adorning the outside wall near the front door.  The cross announces this season of Lent – preparation for suffering, death, and, finally, resurrection! 

In the front yard there is a brass cross on the tombstone-shaped rock easily seen from the driveway.  (I’ve been asked more than once what – or who – is buried there; but that’s grist for another day’s devotion!).

For someone raised in a Christian tradition which did not include an emphasis on Lent, or other more formal practices of faith expression, my love of worship, including the likes of Ash Wednesday ashes, Good Friday, and the discipline of lectionary daily readings, could not have been expected. 

Why would someone raised on “free-tradition” hymns, extemporaneous prayers and sermons love unison and responsive readings, and hymns of Isaac Watts?  Why would corporate confessions and singing the Gloria Patri send chills up and down my spine?  And, further, why would I love all that enough to have the whole neighborhood look at our house and yard like the only thing missing is a steeple? 

The simple answer is that I spend a lot of time in that yard and I love the visual reminders of the Psalmist’s response to God – the God who wants us to come close; Lord, I have heard your call, and I’m coming.  Every time I come home I drive up and see that cross on the rock and think of an empty tomb. 

I’m just an average guy with the attention span of a mosquito, and I need all the visual reminders I can get.  Because, while I am average, and sinful, and my heart is, as the song-writer has it, prone to wander, Lord I feel it; prone to leave the God I love[2], I am also travelling an extraordinary journey towards an eternal home that is anything but average.  And I’m going there to serve, love, and fellowship with an unparalleled God who loves me with an everlasting love and kindness.

So Lent, for me, is all about keeping that perspective. 

All the liturgical wanderings through written prayers and sermons, call and response, and dirty foreheads in pre-spring rituals are my help in keeping close to the One who called me to be close enough to hear his heart beating-out that melodic, incomparable cadence:

I love you; love me…I love you; love me…I love you; love me.

For You Today


Can you hear it?  Can you hear the cadence of love? 

My heart has heard you say, “Come and talk with me.”
And my heart responds, “Lord, I am coming.”  

Lent is singing!

You chew on that as you hit the Rocky Road today…and have a blessed day!




[2] Robert Robinson, 1758, Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing, The United Methodist Hymnal, 400