Nov 30 2021 Day 241 Malachi 1:1–2:17

Try presenting that to your governor; will he be pleased with you or show you favor? says

Malachi is prophesying to an apathetic people. A century after the Temple has been completed, the people have stopped tithing, and are not worshipping as they should, and the priests are causing people trouble by the priests’ instruction. The people are also making imperfect animal sacrifices.

As a culture that does not offer animals to demonstrate our dedication and sacrifice, the notion of imperfect or blemished animals is foreign, to say the least. But God suggests that the people take their blemished and imperfect animal sacrifices to the governor, and rhetorically asks will those sacrifices be pleasing. This I understand.

In a very worldly sense, we do this all the time. We weigh the likely outcome, and offer a sacrifice appropriate for that outcome. For example, it’s amazing what kinds of expired, nasty food is donated to food banks. It’s hardly a sacrifice, when the offering to the food bank is what you wouldn’t feed your own family; it’s more like a great way to clean out the pantry. If the king, bishop or governor were to come over for dinner, would that be what they were offered? Of course not. We’d make up a fine meal, with the freshest ingredients. We’d make an offering based on the perceived value of the recipient.

The same goes with clothing donations. I understand that Africa is drowning in our crappy donations. One headline reads, Why Africa is Drowning in our Clothing Waste. These are clothes we would no longer dress our kids in so we donate them. To be clear, I understand there is great need. I am just not sure they need our junky food or clothing.

Finally, the same is true with our money and time. We offer our time and money to all sorts of things before we determine what we have left over for God’s work.

In the case of Malachi’s prophecy, God was saying that the people would not offer the blemished animal to a governor, why would they offer it to God? If our offerings match the perceived value of the recipient or reward we receive in its offering, why would hungry or impoverished neighbors get less than we’d offer a governor? More importantly, why would God get less?

This morning, I’m thinking about how my choices about my time and treasure reflect my implicit and invisible values about the beneficiaries of those choices. My neighbors are no less worthy than my family. Strangers are no less worthy than the president. God is no less worthy than anyone.

Nov 29 2021 Day 240 Zechariah 10:1–14:21

Though I scattered them among the nations, yet in far countries they shall remember me, and they shall rear their children and return.



This section of Zechariah is full of more doom and gloom, breaking covenants, and protecting God’s chosen. God will scatter the people, but even then, the people will remember God. There’s something oddly touching about this. In Zechariah’s prophecy, God scatters the people. But even scattered, God provides the faith and connection for the people that they remember God. This reminds me of the parent who sends their child to their bedroom, but yet loves the child enough to come running if something is amiss. God scatters the people, or God permits captors, or God allows false prophets to lead people astray. But God still loves the people, and gives the people faith and a memory of God. I’m still not entirely comfortable with a God who smites and breaks covenants, but I have a slightly warmer thought about a God who punishes as a loving parent does.

The accompanying reflection today is from Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s Life Together, a classic book about Christian community. He wrote that Christ came with the express purpose of bringing peace to God’s enemies. True, Christ had disciples, but in the end they all abandoned him, and he died amongst criminals and the jeering crowds. He writes, “So Christians belong not in the seclusion of a cloistered life, but in the midst of enemies. There they find their mission, their work.” God’s people must live in the midst of enemies, but it’s there they can be the seeds of God’s kingdom, he writes.

Later this week, I’ll meet with the Bishop of the Diocese of Pittsburgh to explore my next ministry call. I live right across the street from a beautiful old church to which I could be assigned. Unfortunately, it’s a community that feels like it’s on hospice, both by their actions and the situation in which they find themselves. During the steel mill heyday, it was an affluent church, probably comprised of those benefiting from the mill, rather than those being exploited by the mill. It’s a building that probably seats 300, and now, there’s a regular group of about 6 that gather. This, by itself wouldn’t be as telling as the attitude of the 6, who lock the doors when service begins, and don’t want to use any form of signage or media to let people know of their ministry. Having said that, they do incredible ministry in the community.

The community has changed around them, and they haven’t.

They are absolutely like a flock that’s been scattered. This is a fantastic mission field. And I’m unsure of their interest or ability to do the hard work to be God’s people in this tired, worn down, and sooty town. I’ve been thinking about this place as I prepare for the meeting with the Bishop. This morning’s readings give me pause, and cause me to think about this place in a new light. Regardless of where I’m assigned, I live in this community and will minister in this community, and that is exciting.

Nov 28 2021 Day 239 Zechariah 5:1–9:17



Lo, your king comes to you; … and he shall command peace to the nations



Today my tradition celebrates as the first Sunday in Advent. There will be three more Sundays of Advent, and then comes Christmas. Advent is a season to prepare, to really think about what Emmanuel means – God with us.

It’s wholly fitting that this is the section of Scripture I came to today. The King comes to you, and he shall command peace to the nations. Here in the US, we don’t have much positive experience with Kings. Our revolt against King George III is what founded this nation. The notion of being ruled by one monarch seems antiquated, and sometimes dangerous. So to read that our king is coming is a foreign abstract notion.

Kings rule. They govern. They manage nations. They set policies, set priorities, and carry out what’s needed for the people they govern. To use the term “King” implies a civil leader, a mundane leader, similar to a city manager or governor, perhaps with a crown.

To use the term “King” probably suggested just another ruler, to a people who’d had a history of good and horrible kings. To me, however, who has no experience with a civil leader king, King takes on a sacred note, because it’s mostly only in scripture that I encounter the concept of a coming king. But maybe I’m confusing my scriptural reading with the original notion of a coming king. All of this is made easier to mix up because of my inexperience with monarchs.

Maybe if we think of the coming king as a civil govern-er, the coming of Christ the King is all the more exciting. Christ the King is a govern-er, but Christ governs from a place of peace and mercy, rather than power and fear.

Christ the King is coming. Christ the King will rule the nations with peace. Christ the King is Emmanuel.

Nov 27 2021 Day 238 Zechariah 1:1–4:14

Then the angel who talked with me answered me, “Do you not know what these are?” I said, “No, my lord.”


Zechariah, a man after my own heart. He has multiple visions involving myrtle trees, horns, blacksmiths, a measuring line, Satan, olive trees, a seven faceted stone, and a golden pipe. After each vision, the angel asks him what he sees, and he describes it in terms I’d use – an olive tree, a measuring line – tangible things. “Do you not know what these are? No, my lord”. That would be me. And honestly, after each description, I’m not sure that I understood what the symbols are. I wonder if Zechariah did, or if he just thought, “holy, holy holy. God is a wonderful mystery.”

Like Zechariah’s question, I wonder sometimes what things in my life are. What are these trials, or coincidences, or changes in my life? If someone asked, I’d likely admit that no, I don’t know or understand, but that God is a wonderful mystery. I think often of the story of the blindfolded people who each grasp a different part of the elephant. One thinks it’s a rope, another a wall, another a tree. Each only understand a small part, based on what they can touch and sense. I think I go through life like that, blindfolded, or at least only able to grasp what’s immediately in front of me. I often think I have the whole picture, but I’m sure I’m just grasping the tail, trying to convince everyone that it’s a rope. Only God can see the whole thing. Only God knows what things mean, or why things happen in the order or timing that they do. Only God can see the elephant.

The accompanying reflection is from Brennan Manning, and focuses on a blind, and uncompromising trust in God. He offers a prayer that I’d like to memorize.

“Abba, into your hands I entrust my body, mind, and spirit and this entire day—morning, afternoon, evening, and night. Whatever you want of me, I want of me, falling into you and trusting in you in the midst of my life. Into your heart I entrust my heart, feeble, distracted, insecure, uncertain. Abba, unto you I abandon myself in Jesus our Lord. Amen.”

I don’t understand the visions Zechariah was shown. I don’t always understand what’s happening in my world. This morning, I’m thinking about entrusting my body, mind and spirit for this entire day into God’s hands.

Nov 26 2021 Day 237 Haggai 1-2

Is it a time for you yourselves to live in your paneled houses, while this house lies in ruins?



Haggai is a small book, only two chapters. And I don’t believe I’ve ever heard it quoted. That, I believe is a shame, as it’s incredibly poignant, especially during these times.

The people of Israel are returning from their time in exile. When they return, apparently they are all busy fixing their own homes, while God’s temple is in ruins. Again and again, God asks the people, “Consider how you have fared.” God’s effectively reminding the people that despite their work on their own homes, because they’ve neglected God’s house, things haven’t fared so well. God’s temple was seen as THE place to encounter God, so to neglect its rebuilding, is to neglect their relationship with God.

Haggai is a book about priorities, about the things we put ahead of God and our relationship with God. I’m sitting in a room that used to have 50+ year old carpet, coal dust covered walls, and cracks in the ceiling. Now it’s painted, the carpet’s gone, and the cracks are covered. Meanwhile, I look out my window at several church buildings, all in various states of disrepair. The one directly in my vision is my own denomination, and there are big rocks that have fallen out and are covered with a blue tarp. I see that blue tarp dozens of times a day. All of these buildings are beautiful, or at least they were at one point. And now, they’re lying in ruins while my home is slowly getting repaired.

I’m not suggesting I shouldn’t be resurrecting this old house, but given Haggai’s prophecy, it’s a little unnerving, how close it is to my reality.

And I don’t think Haggai should be understood to be relevant only in home repairs versus church repairs; that’s just how I relate this morning. The bigger, more universal issue is how do we prioritize, and where is God in those priorities. What are the things that I prioritize above God, and my relationship with God?

For me, I’m pretty good at carving time out of my day to think about and prioritize God. Part of that is because I make public commitments that I then must keep, like writing daily (or nearly daily). Without those public commitments, I probably would have given up. I’m also the person who does better with some external accountability at the gym! Making those commitments that I want to keep anyway is an effective way for me to make and hold time for God.

I’m not as good at prioritizing God outside of those times. Once I’m done with my God-time, I move on to paneling my house, using Haggai’s language. I’m also not so good at reviewing the way my days are set up, to make sure that the way I spend time with God is right for me now. Do I need to be doing something different? Something more? Something more organic? These questions rarely get asked, because once I’m done with my God-time, I’m into whatever comes next.

This morning, I’m thinking about the rocks on the sidewalk across the street. When I see them dozens of times a day, perhaps I can use that as a prompt to help me think about my priorities.

Nov 25 2021 Day 236 Zephaniah 1-3 (Take 2)

For I will leave in the midst of you a people humble and lowly. They shall seek refuge in the name of the LORD.

Zephaniah, Zephaniah, Zephaniah. Just when I’d thought I’d warmed up to the prophets, or at least to Habakkuk, along comes Zephaniah with another dire, Eeyore-like prophecy. In this short book, there are several prophesies against Israel and all of its enemies. But then, God announces that God will save Israel, turn away their enemies, be in their midst, and renew them with God’s love. And leave a group of people who are lowly and humble. I’m not sure if this is the precursor to the “the poor will always be with you”.

Today is Thanksgiving, a day for gratitude. I can look around my new home and be extremely grateful that it’s coming together as well as it is. I can look at my sick loved one, and be grateful that they’ve had a period of relative stability. I can look at my son, and be grateful he was able to join us from his busy school/army/study-for-the-bar/ season. I can look at my husband and be grateful he’s stuck with me. I can look at friends, with the same gratitude. I have a lot to be grateful for.

Gratitude is better, however with a healthy dose of humility. I did nothing to get these things for which I’m grateful; it isn’t up to me, and I can’t effect the outcomes of most of these things. My gratitude is greatest because I know I couldn’t do this on my own. God is the root of all my blessings. Left on my own, I’d have nothing, and I’d be nothing. Left on my own, I’d be the humble and lowly that Zephaniah describes.

True, I can look in my neighborhood, and see people who are lowlier and more worse off than me. I can look out and see others who it would be easy to assume are the ‘real’ lowly, humble and poor. But that then leaves me in a position of feeling separate or better than those others. Whether it’s the lady in the wheel chair we met last night who asked if we wanted to buy some food stamps from her, or young adult addicts I’ve seen, they are no more lowly than I am.

I am the humble and lowly that Zephaniah is describing. I need to realize that without God, I’d have nothing to be grateful for. And If I don’t take the time to be grateful, to count my blessings, it’s easy to forget where they come from.

This morning, I’m thinking about the lowly and humble, about all of us, and about a God who is always present, and always ready to bestow amazing blessings on me, if I only take the opportunity to see them.

Nov 24 2021 Day 236 Zephaniah 1-3



For I will leave in the midst of you a people humble and lowly. They shall seek refuge in the name of the LORD.

Zephaniah, Zephaniah, Zephaniah. Just when I’d thought I’d warmed up to the prophets, or at least to Habakkuk, along comes Zephaniah with another dire, Eeyore-like prophecy.

In my mornings, I wake up around 5:30, read the appointed section of scripture and plan to write. I have a beautiful candle that I light, to signal to my husband to let me sit in peace. More importantly, I use the candle to signal to me to be quiet and stay focused. I sit with a cup of coffee, read, think and write. It takes about 40 minutes, and it’s a beautiful way for me to start my day.

Alas, this morning, it didn’t happen. My loved one came down at 6:15, with a cup of coffee in hand. Apparently, they’d already been down and visited my husband for a cup of coffee at 5:00. And boy, were they chatty. It turns out they’ve been up since 1:00, watching movies and interacting with the voices in their head. Perfectly happy, mind you, but very much awake and chatty.

Today, the plan was supposed to be that after the morning gym and shower, we’d wake up our loved one, have breakfast, then all head to the airport to pick up our son who’ll be here until Sunday. Our loved one has had a flaky sleep schedule, so we were trying to have them sleep until it was time to go to the airport. This will be their first time to the airport since the crisis episode in Atlanta, when we were all pulled off the plane.

Since 1:00, they’ve visited her husband at his house in her head and watched movies with her husband. They talked with someone on the phone from 2:00AM – 4:00AM (for real), ate food, talked to her husband.

Since they’ve come down to see us, we’ve talked about past crises. At one point, they ran away while we were living in Portland. They were very hungry, so they stole chocolate and a soda, because otherwise, they’d starve. We explained we would always feed them, and were reminded that at the time, they believed we were raping them, so of course they wouldn’t come home.

We’ve heard about the myriad of voices they have in their head. The main voice is the voice of her husband, a famous rapper. There are other voices that are sometimes talking as well. Mostly the voices are friendly, but sometimes the voices are loud when our loved one is trying to sleep or rest. Incessant, sometimes.

We’ve heard about their music. They make music using Garage Band, and while the beat is good, and their ability to keep up with the beat with lyrics, in my assessment, the music wouldn’t warrant a recording contract. But last night, they sent their music to a couple dozen legitimate artists and recording companies.

Now we’re hearing about the order of the music that they’re going to play when they have their stage show. They’ve found a venue in Pittsburgh to rent, and now they’re figuring out how to sell tickets online. Originally, the tickets were going to be $96 because that’s what famous people charge. Now, the tickets are down to $36, at our urging. Start smaller.

Now, we’re trying to figure out our day’s timing, with the no-sleep loved one. In addition to wanting to have toasted bagels made by my husband, they want to make baked potatoes for lunch. And we have to pick up our son at 10:45, and then get them to a shot appointment for a long-acting injectable anti-psychotic at 2:00.

All the while, Zephaniah is beckoning me. But today, I was graced with 50 minutes of stream-of-consciousness from my loved one with the significant brain disorder. Instead of insisting on quiet so I could spend time with Zephaniah, I enjoyed the time with the family. Today, you got to spend time with the stream-of-consciousness with my loved one too. See you tomorrow, Zephaniah.

Nov 23 2021 Day 235 Habakkuk 1:1–3:19

Though the fig tree does not blossom, and no fruit is on the vines; though the produce of the olive fails, and the fields yield no food; though the flock is cut off from the fold, and there is no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the LORD; I will exult in the God of my salvation.

Several years ago, I sung in an ecumenical sacred choir. It was balm for my soul. One of the songs we sung was based on this text from Habakkuk. Every verse included the dire bits, fig trees not blossoming, no fruit on the vines. And the chorus was an uplifting, “and yet I will sing and worship God.” Unfortunately, I cannot remember the tune, but the memory is so vivid (except the blasted tune), that it continues to evoke chills.

These were not simple little inconveniences. When the fig tree doesn’t blossom, and the olives fail, when there’s no food in the fields, or the herds aren’t in the stalls – these things were the mainstay of the people. Habakkuk is talking about death-inducing famines, and crop failures. They were entirely dependent upon the earth’s bounty, year by year. When there was a crop failure or drought, it had life or death consequences. And yet, Habakkuk says that when those things happen, he will rejoice. He will exult in God, or as the dictionary defines, show or feel elation due to a success in God. Wow.

Few of us live a life that’s so dependent upon crops and droughts and herds. Many of us have never experienced personal life or death events, entirely outside of our control. What a model of trust and faith to think that in those moments, Habakkuk exulted in God.

Most of us have plenty of self-induced problems. The accompanying reflection for Habakkuk is from Thomas Merton, who focuses on idolatry. He notes that idolatry is the greatest risk to humanity. We idolize power, machines, possessions, medicine, sports, clothes, or any number of other things. These idols will end up causing us to self-destruct, as they are all fed by greed for money and power. Merton suggests that the Bomb is the accidental outcome of our idolatrous cult. He argues we ought to be grateful for its creation, as it is a good sign or revelation of what our world will become if our idols are left unchecked.

Many of our current woes, of my personal gripes in the world are probably the result of idolatry, of me wanting things, or status or recognition. Many of my woes are self-inflicted. And if they’re not self-inflicted, they certainly aren’t life or death. Am I able to exult in God during those times? Am I able to see the idols for what they are and get rid of them?

This morning, I’m thinking about how to strip the inconsequential gripes I have, and to remain in a place where I can acknowledge the difficulties of life, and at the same time sing and thank God for what I have.

Nov 22 2021 Day 234 Nahum 1:1–3:19



The LORD is good, a stronghold in a day of trouble; he protects those who take refuge in him, even in a rushing flood.

Nineveh is again in trouble. After Jonah’s efforts, and Nineveh’s repentance, they’re back to doing all sorts of trouble. At one point the prophet Nahum exclaims that there will be “devastation, desolation, and destruction!” I’m not sure what to make of all of these prophets and their dire predictions, and their confidence in a wrathful God. The God I’ve learned about through Jesus is far more forgiving and merciful. Because I’ve expressed this conflicted thought, I’ve had a few friends who are accompanying me on this year-long read through the Bible offer their thoughts.

One suggested that God actually learned about our humanity through Jesus’ humanity. God always loved us, but through Jesus, God’s love was made perfect. I like this. My only challenge is that this means that God’s love was imperfect or incomplete before Jesus. This feels to me like a slippery slide, as it becomes easier to dismiss the God of Hebrew Scriptures, if I don’t like what God’s saying or doing. This means I can whittle God down to the God that perfectly fits in my understanding, and I’m sure that’s a dangerous thing. But in general, I do like the idea that Jesus is God’s love made perfect.

Another friend suggested that these rants say more about the prophet, than God. In every instance, I’m sure there were bad things happening, and the people needed to be reminded of what God’s kingdom looks like, in contrast to their environs. And I believe all of the prophets heard the word of God. The question is what they did with that word. If there was a prophet who was like Eeyore, his recounting of God’s message might be something like, “you’re all going to be smited. We’re all doomed.” If the prophet was more like Rabbit, it might sound like, “we need to get going! Bad things are going to happen! Change your ways! Let’s go now!” And so on. The prophets recounted God’s message through the prophets’ lenses; how could they not?

The prophet Nahum is suggesting that God will take care of those who take refuge in God, but the guilty God will punish. What about us? Aren’t we all guilty of things? And like the poor people of Nineveh, aren’t we guilty of repeating our sins, after we’ve tried to turn back to God?

The accompanying reflection for the book of Nahum is from Kierkegaard and he focuses on the act of confession. He points out that God already knows of our sins, and knows of our motives when we make our confession. Kierkegaard suggests that we make our confessions not for God, but for ourselves. God already knows all, our intentions and our motives. God learns nothing from our confession. But at their best, we can learn from our confessions. We learn about our intentions and our motives.

This changes things for me. There are time when I’m offering a confession, either at church or by myself, I do get the sense that I’m providing a reckoning for God, so God’s aware of what I’ve done. God’s going to check my confession and it’s thoroughness against God’s knowledge of what I’ve done. I’d better list all of the things I did wrong, because if I do, I did it right. If I miss things, God knows, and that’s not good.

I do think this is partially true, that we are expected to take a thorough inventory, and place it before God. But I don’t think it’s so God can check it against God’s cosmic list of my sins. Rather, I think it’s because I need to take stock of my motives, intentions and behavior. I can learn from my past behavior. It’s like the business adage, if you don’t measure it, you can’t change it. If I don’t have any sense of what I’ve done in the past, I can’t change what I’ll do in the future.

This morning, I’m thinking about confession, and the gift it could be to me, if I’m able to stop thinking about God’s cosmic list of when I’m naughty or nice.

Nov 20 2021 Day 233 Micah 5:1–7:20

Do not rejoice over me, O my enemy; when I fall, I shall rise; when I sit in darkness, the LORD will be a light to me.

There is a well-known, and oft-repeated phrase from Micah that was also in this morning’s appointed readings. Do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with your God. That has always warmed my heart. Reading it in context, it’s even better. The people are trying to make amends with God after more bad behavior. Whatever can we do, they cry. Can I give 10,000 rivers of oil? Calves a year old? My firstborn child? No. What God asks is that you do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly. It’s in response to our desire to assuage our conscience with things, that God responds that we need to believe, love and act differently. Yes! Simple, but not easy.

But this morning, I was struck more by a bit that follows that powerful command. When I fall, I shall rise, when I sit in darkness, the Lord will be a light to me. This resonates deeply with me, because of falling, rising, darkness and light I’ve experienced in the past few years. It’s not that I want to fall, or be in the dark. But how wonderful to be reminded that when I fall, I will rise. And when I’m in the dark, God can be my light. Notice that it’s not that God makes the darkness go away, but rather God can be my light in the midst of the darkness.

The greatest darkness in which I sit now relates to the health, safety and happiness of my loved one with the significant brain disorder. I don’t know how that will resolve. I don’t see a graceful way out of the darkness. The disease is permanent, even if its symptoms decrease. The effects of past hospitalizations and psychoses is irreversible. The meds are dangerous, with a list of side effects that should frighten anyone. And the less-than-stellar choices my loved one is making now are risky. And having said all of that, God is with me. God is with my loved one, in that darkness.

We are in a period of relative stability and normalcy and it’s wonderful to see glimpses of the person pre-disease. And we know there will be subsequent crises and hospitalizations; it’s the nature of the disease. But at this moment, it feels like I have risen from the last fall, and the darkness isn’t that dark.

In all our lives, there are periods of rising, falling, darkness and light. To hold on to the image that when I fall, I will rise, and that when it’s dark, God will be my light is deeply comforting because those harder times will come. Holding on to the knowledge of God’s presence and persistence in my life is just what I need. This morning, I’m thinking about falling, rising, darkness and light.

Nov 19 2021 Day 232 Micah 1-4

Thus says the LORD concerning the prophets who lead my people astray, who cry “Peace” when they have something to eat, but declare war against those who put nothing into their mouths.



Micah is prophesying against Samaria and Jerusalem, cities in the divided communities of Judah and Israel. He outlines much injustice that God will address, including injustice created or perpetuated by prophets themselves. God is condemning prophets who are seemingly fair weather prophets, able to call for peace, when they themselves have food to eat but declare war on those who have nothing to eat. Ouch.

In my observation of myself, I find it is easy to call for goodness, when I’m not suffering. Sitting in my warm house, full from good food, it’s easy to take the high ground – to encourage peace and mercy. Meanwhile, there are people beyond my doors who are hungry and cold. I might not be warring with them, but my speech is not doing anything to help them either.

I’m reminded of sister- and brother-in-law’s experience when they were in a very poor country working for the US State Department. It was around the time of Y2K, and they were asked to work with the local government to survey the country leaders and assist them with any Y2K vulnerabilities. The country was likely to experience zero problems, because they were so impoverished and ill-equipped, they were not reliant on computers. Around the same time, the State Dept asked for employees to work with their assigned country leaders to be sure that fishing practices protected porpoises. This country was so impoverished, that it was embarrassing to ask them to worry about anything extra in their nets, when their people were dying from starvation.

As I see it, this passage from Micah cautions me against several potential wrongs. First, I should be careful about speaking about peace, when I’m warm and well-fed. My contentedness might create an apathy or blindness towards the needs of others. I should not be contended to just speak out from my place of comfort. Second, I need to be very cautious when I want to ‘help’ someone else, when I’m not in their place.

The accompanying reflection is from Henri Nouwen and focuses on the difficulty we have with exhibiting compassion, literally being with someone else’s suffering. When others are suffering, we frequently jump to solutions, to fixing the problem. Compassion asks us to join them in their suffering.

This morning, I’m thinking about how to prophecy from a place of com-passion, of knowing and sitting with people in places of deep pain. It’s a deeply difficult thing to do. But it’s what God did, in sending Jesus Christ to know and sit with us in our places of deep pain.

Day 231 Jonah 3:1–4:11

The LORD God appointed a bush, and made it come up over Jonah, to give shade over his head, to save him from his discomfort; so Jonah was very happy about the bush.



This is the stuff of children’s biblical cartoons, right? The bush coming over to Jonah. I smiled when I read this, perhaps because of my overly literal thinking.

Jonah has been saved from the belly of the giant fish, and once again God tells Jonah to go to Nineveh. Given what happened the last time Jonah resisted, this time he went. Walking through the city of 120,000 people, Jonah prophesied that the city would be overthrown in 40 days more. These people were enemies, and probably in Jonah’s mind, had caused all of his misery. I can imagine him being peeved and gloatful.

To God’s delight, the people repented. When God explained to Jonah that God was no longer going to overthrow Nineveh, Jonah was crushed. He went in to the desert to die. How dare God show mercy on these evil enemies, who had caused so much trouble for Jonah? Enter the walking bush. God has the bush protect Jonah, despite Jonah’s pouting. Unfortunately, before daybreak, God sends a worm to consume the bush the next night. Jonah is again upset.

God asks Jonah if it’s right for Jonah to be upset about the bush, a bush Jonah didn’t plant, and a bush that came and went in the night. If that makes sense, then it would be reasonable for God to worry about Nineveh, with all of its people and animals.

The accompanying reflections reminds us that Jonah was sent to a people Jonah didn’t love. They caused all sorts of trouble in Jonah’s life, and eventually God loved them enough to save them. This reminds me of a great quote from Archbishop Desmond Tutu, who said “God loves you! And God’s love is so great, God loves your enemies too.”

Jonah would rather die than acknowledge that God’s love could encompass Jonah’s enemies. It seems that Jonah’s lack of love could have sentenced him to a self-imposed death. Jonah was willing to choose his own death, rather than reflecting God’s love to the evil Ninevites.

When we encounter someone or something we don’t love, do we make choices like Jonah? Are we willing to go out and die in the desert, rather than loving our enemy? Or worse, are we willing to go out and die in the desert, because God shows love to our enemy?

This morning, I’m thinking about those people or institutions or belief-holders that I’d find it challenging to acknowledge God can love. I want to check my actions, and make sure I’m not choosing to go die out in the desert, rather than marvel at God’s kingdom come.

Nov 16 2021 Day 231 Jonah 1-2

I called to the LORD out of my distress, and he answered me; out of the belly of Sheol I cried, and you heard my voice.

Jonah has been asked by God to go to Nineveh to prophesy against them because they are so wicked. Ninevites are Israel’s great enemies. Ancient Nineveh is located in modern day northern Iraq, near the city of Mosul. God told Jonah to go to Nineveh, and Jonah when the opposite way and boarded a boat to escape, anywhere except towards Nineveh.

God would have none of this, and he created a big storm. All of the other men on the boat prayed to their gods, and once they woke Jonah up, asked him who his god was, and would he pray to him. Jonah explained that his god was The God, who made heavens and earth. This made the other men on the boat more afraid, what with God’s power. Jonah explained that it was because of him that the storm was raging, and if they simply threw him overboard the storm would cease. And so they did. God sent a large fish to swallow Jonah, where he remained for three days.

From the belly of the fish, Jonah sings a song of thanksgiving. I called to the Lord in my distress, and he answered me. Hmm. Jonah tells the others to throw him overboard, because Jonah’s the reason the storm is raging. By this, I take it that Jonah thought that God was so powerful that God could create the storm, and that God could make it cease. Then Jonah prays from the belly of a large fish, and I presume that Jonah believed God could hear his cries. Both of these indicate a deep faith and trust in God, an all-powerful, all present God.

So if that’s the case, why did Jonah think he could outrun God? As I’ve told people in the discernment process, resistance is futile.

Reading about this behavior in Jonah it is apparent it’s a ridiculous venture, to try to escape a God in whom Jonah has faith. And yet, don’t we all do it? Try to outrun God, when we don’t like what we believe God is asking us to do? To be clear, I’m not necessarily talking about the direct whisper or booming voice of God, directing us to do something. In my experience, God isn’t that overt. But I do believe that we know if we’re doing the right thing, or if we’re contemplating a good thing that seems really difficult.

We go the opposite direction, somehow thinking that God isn’t already there. But once we get to our hiding spot and we discover it’s not such a great spot after all, we pray to the very God we were trying to escape. Wait, what? Wouldn’t it be easier if we just acknowledged that resistance is futile, that God is already there, and we’d be better off not wasting our time and energy trying to flee? Of course it would be easier. But we’re not built like that, I fear.

We want to plot our own course and to take the path of least resistance, at least sometimes. Sometimes, I want to have a break from the harder, righter path. The great news is that God is waiting for me in the belly of the fish.

This morning, I’m thinking about God’s omni-presence, even in the belly of a big fish.

Nov 15 2021 Day 230 Obadiah 1

For the day of the LORD is near against all the nations.



Obadiah is an interesting little book. Just one chapter, it tells the story of the continued fight between Esau and Jacob. True, Jacob stole Esau’s birthright. But then, when Jacob, now Israel, was ransacked and taken into captivity and Esau, now Edom, didn’t help. Not only did Edom not help, Edom gloated over Israel’s misfortune. Given the familial history between their ancestors, Esau and Jacob, it’s understandable.

In recounting all of Edom’s bad actions, the language used is to describe bad days: the day of non-involvement, the day of calamity, the day of pillage. This is contrasted with the day of the Lord, a day not like the bad non-involvement, calamity, and pillage.

The accompanying reflection is from Mother Theresa, who speaks of listening to God in the silence. She notes that the beauty of nature – the growth of trees and flowers, the movement of the sun and moon, all of these things happen in silence. God cannot break through to us in noise and activity, and we need God’s love which we receive in silence, to share with others. We put ourselves in busy, noisy places, but we desperately need to connect in silence, to recharge our batteries, so we have God’s love to share in the noise. She continues with a quote that startles me every time. “To show great love for God and our neighbor we need not do great things. It is how much love we put in the doing that makes our offering something beautiful for God.” It’s not the greatness of our acts, but the love that’s infused in our actions.

So combining these two concepts – the day of the Lord, and the need for silence to hear the Lord, this morning, I’m thinking about how I might build in moments of silence in all of my days, so that all of my days can be the day of the Lord, or at least, I have a chance getting my battery recharged. I’m reminded of a conversation I had with a spiritual guide at one point. I came to see him about what spiritual discipline I should take on during the 40 days before Easter, as a way to prepare and get closer with the risen Christ. Should I assume morning prayer? Praying with a labyrinth, or join a prayer circle? He advised that I should be silent and still for 20 minutes every day. I genuinely told him it would be easier for me to give up breathing. And that’s probably still true. Of all the practices I’ve picked up, dropped, restarted, and tried out, a period of silence and stillness is the only one that doesn’t last very long at all, ever.

Perhaps I’ll tackle them one at a time. Maybe I’ll start with silence while walking, or knitting. Or maybe stillness, while listening to some contemplative music. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. That’s what I want to do.

Nov 14 2021 Day 228 Amos 5:1–9:15

The time is surely coming, says the Lord GOD, when I will send a famine on the land; not a famine of bread, or a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the LORD.



A famine is normally defined as an extreme scarcity of food. When I think of someone living through a famine, I imagine desperate, all-consuming need – something that you cannot escape or stop thinking about. But in this section of Amos, God uses the word famine to refer to a scarcity of hearing the word of God. I wonder if a famine from the word would create that same desperate, all-consuming need. If we couldn’t see, hear or read God’s word, would that absence be all we think about? Even as a person of faith, I’m not sure.

I’ve had periods in my life where I didn’t regularly attend church or read scripture. I was quite content. Eventually I returned, so I guess eventually I noticed the effects of my self-imposed famine. So what of the times when I blithely walked away from the words of the Lord? Where was the all-consuming hunger?

And what about all of the wonderful people out there who don’t have faith? They don’t appear to have any hunger for God’s word, even though for some of them it’s been a decades-long famine. How does the absence of God’s word present as a famine to these people, some of whom are deeply loving and caring?

Amos is relaying that God will withhold God’s word, that when one seeks it, it’s not there. I’m not sure what to do with this. It is consistent with the experience many people of deep faith have, when they seek God, but don’t find God. Does this mean that God is really absent? I need to believe that this is not the case. God is always with us. Always. The question is whether we can sense God’s presence, or retain the faith to believe that, when we don’t sense it.

This morning, I’m thinking about the practices we have in place that can carry us through those dark times, when we experience the effects of a famine of God’s word. And even then, God is with us.

Nov 13 2021 Day 227 Amos 1-4

The lion has roared; who will not fear? The Lord GOD has spoken; who can but prophesy?



Amos is prophesying against Israel, and going through a litany of examples of absurdity – does a bird fall into a snare when no trap has been set? Does a lion roar when it has no prey? It reads to me like an old time sarcastic, “duh”. But then he the litany concludes with these statements that are true, rather than untrue. If the lion roars, who wouldn’t be afraid? Um, me. Side note, I was sleeping in platform tent in Kenya and overnight heard lions roaring. It woke me up, and raised the hair on the back of my neck. Every time it happened. Who wouldn’t be afraid indeed!

The next statement you’d assume is an equally obvious truth. The Lord has spoken, who can avoid speaking that word from God? Except in this case, I think many can avoid it, perhaps most.

Looking at the history of the prophets we’ve encountered so far, none of them have fared too well. Or they’re miserable during they’re prophesying. To be clear, prophesying isn’t fortune telling. Rather it’s speaking of God’s kingdom come, particularly in a place that looks nothing like God’s kingdom. It’s pointing out what could be, rather than what is.

Some would argue that the first deacon was Stephen, a prophet who was actually stoned to death for his pointing out the errors of the time. Um, not a great model. Or then there’s John the Baptizer, whose head ended up on a platter. Um, not a great model. And of course, there’s Jesus. Modern day, we have MLK, Gandhi, Romero – all sorts of prophets who tried to bring God’s kingdom here, and were met with unpleasant outcomes.

Is that what God wants from us? To be mocked, dismissed, or worse? I suspect that for some, the answer is yes, and they know that truth from God. There are some who are willing to speak what they hear from God, or maybe they can do nothing less, and are willing to suffer the consequences, regardless.

Then there’s the rest of us. I’m not sure I’m ready to die to speak God’s truth in my world. But I have been willing to take some risks that didn’t feel like risks at the time, because I believed it was what I was supposed to do. I know people who’ve served as missionaries in dangerous places, people who’ve served in inner-city dangerous settings, who’ve hugged the modern-day lepers. I would suspect that these people don’t feel heroic, or like they took chances beyond what was reasonable. I suspect they did what they did because they knew they should.

So maybe being a pebble-in-the-shoe prophet isn’t about going beyond what you’re comfortable with, but rather listening for God, prayer, and responding with what you know in your soul you are supposed to be doing or saying. God removes that sense of fear, so the prophets are doing exactly what they know they’re supposed to be doing, regardless.

This morning, I’m thinking about listening for the word of God, and responding as God asks. Who can but prophesy?

Nov 12 2021 Day 226 Joel 1-3

Yet even now, says the LORD, return to me with all your heart

Joel is a short book, only three chapters. It includes some pithy, oft-repeated bits. “Rend your hearts and not your clothing”. “Your old men shall dream dreams, and your young man shall see visions”. And through the book, God speaks to and through Joel, offering comfort after a disastrous plague of locusts. I am struck by the devastation of such a plague on a community reliant on food from the fields. In this pandemic era, I find my grocery store shelves emptier than normal. I cannot find precisely what I’m looking for. Never mind that there are dozens of other kinds of whatever it is. It’s absurd, but I feel a sense of scarcity I’ve never had, when I see shelves that aren’t overflowing with options. How horrid if your only food source is the field behind your home, and the locusts have destroyed it. I throw up a prayer for anyone living with that kind of food insecurity.

The accompanying reflection for Joel is written by Henri Nouwen, a modern-day theologian. He discusses the practice of people seeking ancient desert mothers and fathers. They’d seek them out, and ask, “Do you have a word for me?” Their response often provided the three common meanings of the “word”. The first was the living word of God, through Jesus Christ. Second, they sought the written word, or Scripture, and finally the spoken word, heard from prophets to one’s heart. Nouwen offers a fourth definition, the written word. He offers that the written word encourages us to hear and recognize God’s word in our lives.

I love this, as it breaks open my rather limited thinking about language. In any given day, we all encounter God’s word in a multitude of ways, and Nouwen has provided language for those differences. I read, listen and write about scripture. And for me, the writing absolutely helps me integrate what I’m reading. In stillness, sometimes I hear God’s word speaking to my heart. I likely need to build in more silence and opportunities to just listen.

I am honestly not a fan of writing or journaling. I’ve tried to keep journals over the years, and I never had the motivation to keep going. But writing in response to what I’m reading in Scripture feels very different. It feels like a conversation in my soul, and I have a desire to respond to what I’ve read. Often it feels like Jacob’s wrestling with God, and sometimes it’s just a quiet conversation with friends. But to imagine that it’s another definition of God’s Word, that makes it special.

This morning, I’m thinking about God’s word, as experienced as the read, spoken, heard, and written word. I’m grateful for the persistence to continue, even through the bits of scripture that feel more like I’m wrestling with God.

Nov 11 2021 Day 225 Hosea 11:1–14:9

I will not again destroy Ephraim; for I am God and no mortal, the Holy One in your midst, and I will not come in wrath.



Hmm. It seems like we’ve heard God say things like this before, or at least it’s been reported by previous prophets and men of the bible that God’s said things like this before. I’ll never again…. I promise that I will protect you… You are my chosen people… And yet, the God of the old covenant seems to me to be a bit capricious. True, God always returns and restores his people. And God’s unending love and forgiveness is awe-some.

But at the risk of being really heretical, don’t we see this pattern of love-anger-bad action-remorse-love here on earth? Isn’t that one of the classical signs of abusive relationships? The abuser loves, gets angry, hurts, apologizes, loves?

To be clear, I’m. not suggesting God is like an abuser, but I am left to struggle with what the God portrayed by Hosea is up to. Perhaps it’s a misunderstanding of the old covenant writers. They assumed bad things that happened were directly God’s actions. Israel was taken into captivity, ergo Israel did something horrible and God punished them. Maybe bad stuff just happened, and the people needed to blame someone. Their understanding of God was that their actions caused God’s anger and wrath, so that’s what the prophets heard.

Or maybe the God of the old covenant was more punitive than I understand God to be now, under the new covenant. Maybe through Jesus, God perfected God’s love to us. Through Jesus, God really did morph. God was always forgiving and loving. But through Jesus, God ceased the anger and wrath part. Instead, God through Jesus weeps as we misbehave, but loves us anyway, skipping the part where God lashes out in anger and frustration.

There are people now who still believe that God causes bad things to happen to people, because of their beliefs, their actions, their sexual identity, their fill in the blank. But in my mind, if that’s true, than who’s to say that her bad behavior isn’t what caused my loved one’s illness? Or my bad behavior? Did I do something to deserve to lose my job? Where does that level of quid pro quo end, and who gets to decide what God is angry about?

I don’t think I get to decide, based on my read of Scripture, what’s acceptable to God and what isn’t. I say this mostly because my read of Scripture could differ from someone else’s so who gets to claim they’re more right, if we’re both reading the same Scripture? If I don’t get to decide, who does? I think that’s where Jesus comes in. Jesus summed up all of the laws in two. Love God. Love your neighbor. And your neighbor isn’t just your clan. It’s everyone other than you.

And when I fail at that simple two-part request, God as manifest through Jesus loves me anyway. Forgives me anyway. Asks me to return and try again.

House Improvements, paint, mantels, clocks and candles

Shiny grimy walls and dark dinged up trim

Dinged up trim with mismatched paint

 And so the house project continues.  We are nearly done with the first room, or at least as done as we want to be for now.  The front room, which we're using as a living room was dingy, dark and all sorts of cracked.  The wall paint was a semigloss, probably ot one point white, but now a dingy and greasy gray.  The trim was dark, and not especially pretty.  We have ordered new double paned windows for the room, and they'll be a cream color, but for now, we're stuck with the single pane, wavy glass.

Filled in holes from too many sets of blinds

Painting the trim to match the eventual windows.

We decided to lighten the room up by painting all of the trim the cream color that will match the windows. We also purchased insulating honeycomb blinds and installed them on the window

T

Taped walls and ceiling

here were some big cracks in the plaster. Some experts suggested that with plaster and lath, the only way to assure that it's repaired is to drill holes, and insert glue in between the plaster and lath, and then clamp it, so it's reattached firmly.  That was more than I wanted to do, so instead, I went with the other advice I'd seen which was to tape the cracks, and then mud and sand them.  So, that's what I did. There was one big hole in the ceiling that is the result of a leak we haven't yet stopped, so we left the big hole and we'll repair it once we figure out the water. 

Gap between mantel and plaster

There were also cracks between the plaster and the really neat mantel that contains the built-in clock.  Those were spackled and sanded.

Taped and mudded ceiling cracks

Painting begins.  Ceiling white, and a yellowish green. 

Meanwhile, we have this beautiful mantel with a clock built in. The clock didn't work, and the face of the clock was dingy and parts of the numbers were missing. We found an antique clock repair man who came out to our house, took the inside of the clock out, and for $250 will return a clock that works. Either it will be repaired with its springs and keys, or if he can't get it working, he'll install a quartz time mechanism and a battery for the pendulum. Either way, it will again work. 

Broken 7

While he's working on the inside of the clock, I worked on repairing the outside. I went to a local craft store, and purchased some gold paint, an exacto knife, and a thin wooden Christmas ornament. 

Broken 3

Cut pattern for the three

I traced the missing pieces of the seven and the three and cut them out of the ornament. Then I glued them on to the face of the clock, and very carefully, repaired all of the numbers with shiny gold   

And now the clock outsides are  ready to join with the clock insides.  

One interesting thing about the mantel is that it had these interesting places on either side of the clock that had nice detail, but the previous owners had covered the plaster with contact paper, that had long since gotten brittle and yellowed, We took the contact paper off, and were left with sooty, dingy plaster walls, and we couldn't get in to paint it to match the walls.  We thought about nailing something against the plaster, but it's an outside wall and it's not plaster, but rather cement. Our fancy nail gun couldn't do the job so we were left with plan b.  We glued little pieces of wood below the trim, so if we slipped something down, it wouldn't fall behind the mantel.  Then I took two pieces of thin finish plywood and cut them down to the size of the spaces previously covered in contact paper, and painted them the same color as the walls. Finally, we slipped them in the spaces, and voila, it looks finished.  

I'm finally done, or 99% done with the door to the bathroom.  After discovering bring that the beautiful wood grain was fake and painted on, I tried my hand at fake, painted grain. I used gel stain, and before it was dried, I used fingers, q-tips, and a cloth covered screw driver to make patterns. When I look at it, I see finger-painting.  But when I look at the other woodwork, I see finger-painting, where I used to see beautiful wood grain.  Once I realized it's fake, it's hard to unsee the fairness. Hopefully my door will not look any faker than the rest. I painted the side of the door that will be in the bathroom to match the bathroom trim. The fixtures on the stained side were cleaned up to their original shiny brass, and the figures on the painted side, I spray painted to match the bathroom fixtures, satin nickel. 

So the living room is nearly done.  Here are a few views.  

One final crafty thing I did that I'm pleased about again involves the fancy fireplace. I believe these were all gas fireplaces, as they're too shallow for a wood box, and there's an abandoned gas pipe in the middle of the firebox.  In any case, until we figure out the chimneys, we aren't likely to have real fire in these beauties, all six of them.  Starting with this fireplace, though I decided to purchase a bunch of remote-controlled LED candles, the kind where you can't see the fake flame, but they still flicker.  Then I made the rounds to the various thrift stores around, and bought things that either were originally intended to be candlestick holders, or could serve as one. I spray painted them all a metallic iron color, which sort of matches the inside of the firebox.  I've got them all ready for the arrival of my candles.  My plan is to set up the candles in the fireplace, on the mis-matched, but painted to match holders, and push a button, and have light.  

Nov 9 2021 Day 224 Hosea 6:1–10:15



They made kings, but not through me; they set up princes, but without my knowledge.

Hosea continues his rant against Israel and Judah. God is pretty upset, putting it mildly. The accompanying reflection is from Dallas Willard, and focuses on the problems that happen when we allow wrath to overcome us. We do all sorts of evil, once we’ve been whipped into a wrathful state. While I believe that to be true, I’m ill-equipped to reflect on it. When I was originally being examined to start the process, one of the questions we aspirants were asked was, “What makes you angry?” Answers covered the gamut of social ills – racism, violence against children, poverty. I struggled to answer, because although I definitely react to all of these ills, anger isn’t my go-to emotion. Rather, I get sad, then determined. But not angry. I was challenged on this response, and have thought about it since then. I still don’t think anger is my go-to reaction, nor do I think it’s a perquisite for being an empathetic human. So try not to let anger and wrath eat you up.

But what I can speak with some authority about is the idea that people are made kings and princes, but not through God. We seek all sorts of affirmation and accolades, and sometimes we even find them. This rewards our desires and seeking, and reinforces us to seek more. Eventually, we’re like a well-trained dog, seeking rewards, receiving them, and then seeking more.

But there’s a problem with this, at least one. When we seek earthly rewards and titles, we are stuck with earthly enticements. In order to become a prince or king, I suspect there’s a good amount of back-stabbing and intrigue to climb to the top of that mountain. To get the promotion, we sacrifice home and health. To achieve earthly beauty, we sacrifice time, treasure, and sometimes health. There are always negative trade-offs, and when we aspire to earthly rewards, we frequently sacrifice the wrong things. That’s not to say that God’s rewards don’t ask us for sacrifice too. But I suspect they are net gain, rather than net loss sacrifices. This morning, I’m thinking about the worldly rewards I seek. I want to be precisely clear about what’s being asked of me to achieve those awards. To be safe, I’d like to seek rewards from the God of mercy, love and justice.