for lent 2003 - amazon s3 · devotions for lent 2003 ... christmas poem at the beginning of lent....

The Church of The Good ShepherdUnited Methodist Church

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Stained-glass windows and cross designed by Maria VelezBooklet coordinated and edited by the Witness CommitteeBooklet design by Melanie Snyder

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DEVOTIONSfor Lent 2003Lent is the 40 days before Easter, not including

Sundays. It corresponds to the 40 days thatJesus spent in the wilderness. Originally it was

the time provided for training of candidates forbaptism. In modern times, it has become a

period of self-discipline, spiritual reflection andpreparation for Easter.

Written and published by the Congregation ofThe Church of the Good Shepherd

A United Methodist Church2351 Hunter Mill RoadVienna, Virginia 22181

(703) 281-3987www.GoodShepherdVA.com

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The Church of the Good Shepherd2

Dear Friends and Neighbors,

The devotions in this booklet were written by the people of The Church of the GoodShepherd, a community of believers in theUnited Methodist tradition located in Vienna,Virginia.

We offer this devotional as a gift. Our hope isthat our thoughts and prayers will help you toexperience Lent as a spiritual journey towardthe glory of Easter.

Writing and distributing a Lenten devotionalhas become an important part of our ministry.This collection of thoughts and prayers speaks in a variety of voices,but each comes from the heart. Each offers a glimpse into the faithjourney of a person seeking to follow Christ. Together, they alsoreflect the vitality and the extraordinary range of interests of ourchurch family.

If you do not have a church home, we encourage you to visit us on any Sunday. You will find that our hearts, our minds and our doors arealways open. Our worship services are at 8:30 a.m. and 11 a.m. Weespecially invite you during Holy Week. We will have special services onHoly Thursday, Good Friday and, of course, on Easter Sunday. Pleasesee page 65 or our Web site, www.GoodShepherdVA.com, for furtherdetails.

In the meantime, we hope you will find this booklet a rich and helpfulguide to your own daily devotions through the Lenten season.

May God bless you richly!

Yours in Christ,Dr. James R. Noland, Pastor

The Church of the Good Shepherd

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Devotions for Lent, 20033

Ash Wednesday, March 5 Read: John 3:16

THE GIFT OF CHRISTMASWas it very cold?Was she very frightened?Did she want her motherInstead of this man?Why were they there anyway?A census where you had to go . . .What’s that?Could a baby born hereChange the world?Could a tiny infant so helplessMake such a difference?What were they thinking?And yet there was a change.And yet the angels came.And yet there was new hope.Is there still?

It probably seems strange to see aChristmas poem at the beginningof Lent. Yet God’s great gift to usbegins with the birth of His son. Imagine, God sending His son to be aninfant, to play in the dirt, to learn to saw wood, to grow up in a com-pletely human way. And yet, God does.

God continues His gift to us as Jesus begins his ministry and preachesto all who will listen. He tells us of God’s great love for us, of His caringand concern. We can hardly comprehend it. And yet, God has His sonpreach on.

And then comes the greatest gift. God allows His son to die for us onthe cross. In His name he takes away all of our sins, failures, misdirec-tions, wrongs . . . all of it. Jesus dies for us so that we may be forgiven.He suffers, and yet God gives us this gift.

Do we have to pay for this gift? Do we have to do good deeds? Do wehave to earn our forgiveness? No. We merely have to accept God’sgrace and love and believe and have faith in the One who gave it. Whatan amazing gift. Is there still hope? God’s gift assures us that there is.

— Bev Kinego

TODAY: Now, not tomorrowis the time to act. God does notwait for us to be perfect; he iswilling to use very imperfectinstruments. What matters isthat the instruments should beavailable for his use. The resultsof our efforts are not in ourhands, but in his. But he hasgiven us the assurance that “it isrequired in stewards that a manbe found faithful,” and thatwhere that faithfulness is found,he is able “to do exceedingly,abundantly, above all that weask or think.” (The AmsterdamWeekly, 19th Century)

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Thursday, March 6 Read: Matthew 6:26-27

DO NOT WORRYI have a parakeet. My son rescued her one summer. I probably wouldnever have had a bird if he hadn’t brought her home.

I was going through a particularly rough patch. I was on automaticpilot and not sure what the outcome of a situation with my son wouldbe. I was pretty listless and justgoing through the motions, dealingwith change of dreams for my son.Then the bird would sing, not a lot,just some chirps. She would get myattention, and even though I didn’twant her to, she would lift my spir-its and make me smile.

I remember laughing and saying,“God, why did you take away my dream for my son and give me a bird?I don’t think that was a very good trade!” Yet, whenever the bird sang,my spirits were raised.

I began to think of new possibilities and new dreams. I came to viewour bird as a gift. I didn’t know she was a gift in the beginning, butmany times we don’t get a vote. We forget that God walks with usalways, even in the darkest times. And God will use what he can toget our attention — even a little bird.

— Elaine Woodward

TODAY: Surprise a familymember or friend with a gift— a book, a framed picture, aflower, even a bird. Include aprayer for God’s guidance inseeking and fulfilling new pos-sibilities and new dreams.

James Heard

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Friday, March 7 Read: Proverbs 18:24

A TRUE FRIEND“Some friends play at friendship, but a true friend sticks closer thanone’s nearest kin.” Reading these words of scripture provided me withthe opportunity to reflect on the issues of friendship in my life, theobservations that come with growth and maturity, and the benefitsthat come from having a loving family and being a member of thechurch and a Christian fellowship.

I have found the following in my life, as I have observed and developedfriendships:

* The joy of having a wife who is also your best friend; who is there for you, unconditionally; who chal-lenges yet loves; and who grows and models Christ

* The tears of joy in one’s heart when watching two friends take their son to the communion rail

* Men getting to know each other over eggs and grits at an early morning prayer breakfast, and the draw to return each week to learn more to assure that growth con-tinues

* The heartache one feels for a friend who struggles to encourage a son to grow and mature, while balancing his own expectations with those of the son

* Brothers by marriage discussing grace and becoming friends* Parents-in-law and son-in-law developing a relationship/friendship

over the years, growing from a connection by marriage to a bond formed by mutual respect and love

* The hurt in the eyes of friends during a clash of opinions — one try-ing to do the right thing and the other trying to assure relevance

* Disciple class members meeting and growing with each other, forming friendships that will be remembered whenever one of the members picks up a Bible

* A true friend who reaches out to another during a time of betrayal due to the blackness of depression, when all others flee out of igno-rance or misguided solutions

So what have I learned, and what do I continue to learn from theseobservations of friendship? The issue is love and the work we must do

TODAY: The Beatles had itright: “Love is all you need.”The writer W.H. Auden wasmore direct: “Love each otheror die.” Plan in the weekahead to change your routineto reflect the reality thathow we love is how we live.

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Saturday, March 8 Read: John 2:1, 9, 11

CELEBRATE THE WEDDING

to assure that we emulate Christ. God could have automaticallymade us friends — to like each other, to respect each other and to bethere for each other. However, there is no automatic for God —except His love. As Paul said in his letter to Philemon, “Although inChrist I could be bold and order you to do what you ought to do, yet Iappeal to you on the basis of love.” In other words, for me, friendshipis part of the ever-continuing quest to be Christ-like. We must wantto love; and once we love, we experience the joy that God intended.

— Ed Federico

As a pastor, I have celebrated many weddings. Each has been a time of joy. And today, I will be watching my oldest son, Jake, marry a won-derful young woman. When this day is over, Stormy Brown will beStormy Noland, and Jake will be a husband. I have seen this sort oftransformation happen many times before, but it is different whenyou are a dad or a mom. From this per-spective, it is rather overwhelming.

I have spent many hours helping youngpeople to appreciate the step they are taking when they come to thealtar. I want them to have the kind ofmarriage that can sustain their love, for I know that human love, nomatter how strong, cannot, by itself, sustain a marriage. Too manypeople think of marriage as if it were only a contract made by twopersons for their mutual satisfaction. A true marriage is much more,for it is a union in which two become one. This transformation is atrue miracle of God’s grace, requiring time, commitment, the supportof the community of faith and the power of the Holy Spirit.I know that I have been transformed in my marriage. It has been a wonderful journey of mutual growth and discovery, for God gave methe right companion.

My prayer is that Stormy and Jake will be as blessed in their life togeth-er as I have been in my life with Mary Anne.

— Jim Noland

TODAY: Celebrate theloves in your life. Let yourloved ones know thatthey are loved.

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Sunday, March 9 Read: Ecclesiastes 3

A TIME FOR EVERYTHINGI am so grateful God createdevery season in my life. I amnow in a season of celebration! I celebrate reaping the benefitsfrom each prior season, learningfrom my mistakes, salving thewounds, but most important, recognizing God’s presence when Icouldn’t at the time.

During the season when I tried to be super wife, mom, social activist,church leader and public servant, all at once, I crashed, physically andemotionally. But the Lord picked me up and put Christian friends inmy life to help put me back together. I was in God’s hands all along,and He led me through it without my awareness and despite my resist-ance.

I celebrate having worked through unfinished pains from childhood sothat I can truly enjoy companioning my mom now. I celebrate precioustime with grandchildren. I savor both our specially planned times andour serendipitous moments.

I celebrate a growing ability to limit my list of “to dos,” keeping them intune with God’s precious timing and purpose. As Creator and CEO ofthe universe, God’s blueprints and timing are exquisite. He only asks usto love him back, to seek justice, love mercy, pray for our enemies andwalk humbly with Him. That’s it! I celebrate the victory of trustingGod to do the things I cannot.

I celebrate the change of seasons, especially the signs in each offeringhope and expectancy for the next. But just as when warm tempera-tures in the winter force premature budding and limit spring blooming,so do our own seasons sometimes end prematurely or unexpectedly.We mourn the deaths of loved ones and unmet dreams and plans.However, all living things with strong roots thrive over many seasons.Claiming our connectedness to the Creator and claiming our salvationthrough Christ guarantees our own continuity of seasons.

Celebrate life with me in whatever season of your life! Celebrate withme as we live in Christ’s living presence and constant companionship.

TODAY: Celebrate the comingspring. Plant seedlings, or buy aspring plant that you can replant ina few weeks.

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Monday, March 10 Read: Psalm 23

BLESSINGS IN THE MIDSTWalking with my sister, Judie, through the last months of her life,though filled with sorrow and pain, also was occasion for many oftenunexpected blessings.

That we could laugh . . . even knowing she was dying.

That as a parade of folks from her present and past reconnected,my picture of my sister was rounded out and colored in, and I lovedher all the more.

That her faith would be so strengthened that she did not fear death,but saw it as a “coming home” and welcomed it.

That, as God was helping her to let goof life, He was also helping me to letgo of her.

That God in his wisdom was with usboth every step of the way, envelop-ing and comforting us within his lovingarms, granting us his peace and graceand, above all, his LOVE.

This year, because of my experiences,and these many blessings, I will be bet-ter able to imagine the feelings ofJesus, and his family and followers. I will view the events of Easter with“new eyes” and greater understanding. Thanks be to God.

— B.J. Campbell

TODAY: Look at your lifetoday. Discover andacknowledge the blessings,both large and small, youhave already been given andthank God. Remember,too, that even in the dark-est times, the blessings arethere. We have only to seekthem out.

May we claim His victory every moment, every day, since none of us isever certain when our season of life on this planet will come to an end.Celebrate with me the assurance of resurrection and eternal life witha Risen Lord! Hallelujah! Amen!

— Ginny Johnson

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Tuesday, March 11 Read: Genesis 32:22-32

BY ANY OTHER NAMEWe have a 3-year-old golden retriever named Rosy. Shortly after wegot her as a 7-week-old puppy, the vet confirmed what we feared: Shehad severe hip displasia. It was too late for reparative surgery, and weloved her too much to “exchange her for a new puppy,” as the breederoffered. My friend Melanie, a fellow golden retriever lover, replied tomy “am I crazy to keep her?” e-mail with this thought: “The way youhandle this might teach your girls aboutcommitment and unconditional love . . .love when it isn’t easy or convenient.”We kept Rosy.

She is a golden retriever who’s not sup-posed to run or jump or fetch a stick.Sometimes she has a hard time gettingup. Her poor, atrophied hips are a bitmisaligned, and it’s a feat to get her to take her chondroitin supple-ment twice a day. But the people who compliment us on our beauti-ful dog are surprised to hear about her hips. We tell them, “She’s handi-capped, but she doesn’t know it, and we’re not telling her.” Then, as ifto prove a point, she runs and tussles with our 75-pound Siberianhusky, who seems to know just how much is enough.

Oftentimes, as I pet her, I have wondered why my faith is not suffi-cient to heal her hips. I have earnestly prayed for her healing, as havemany others. But I expect it’s because she is whole, just the way she is.She is full of the kind of love God intends for me and for my family.You see, she loves unconditionally and without reservation. She for-gives all wrongs. When I’m sad, she is sad with me. She seeks my pres-ence and wags in greeting every time I come near — sometimes withher whole back end, bad hips and all. She is trusting. She is obedient,usually. She is gentle. She loves to be loved. And we love her especial-ly because she is fragile.

So we are resigned to the fact that, through some unfortunate genet-ic circumstance, Rosy has two hips put out of joint, the right worsethan the left. While these were not the product of her wrestling ablessing from God, as they were for Jacob, the struggle we endured inchoosing to love and care for her has most assuredly been a blessing to

TODAY: Spend someloving time with a cher-ished pet or humanfriend. Think of the lovebetween you as a littlepiece of heaven on earth.

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Wednesday, March 12 Read: Psalm 91:11-12

GUARDIAN ANGELS

us. We know that caring for her will become harder, but loving her willnever be difficult.

Jacob was renamed Israel after prevailing in his struggle with God. Rosy— “bright, full of promise, cheerful, optimistic” — is ever so rightlynamed.

—Wendy LeBolt

I have always loved the idea that I have a guardian angel. How elsecould I explain the many times that I have escaped accident or injury?All too often my own carelessness and absent-mindedness would havecaused the accidents. The book left on the staircase, the drawer leftopen, waiting for me to zoom through the room again and stumbleover the book or run into the sharp corner of the drawer. In my morelogical moments, I have told myself that guardian angels do not exist,that I simply refine too much on what was sheer happenstance.Besides, if such beings did exist, they would be too busy for someoneas insignificant as I am.

That viewpoint changed along time ago. I have escapedaccidental injury, unemploy-ment, illness, financial hardshipwhen layoff did occur and allmanner of unpleasantnesses that are endemic to the urban UnitedStates of the late 20th and early 21st centuries too often not tobelieve that I have a guardian angel, possibly several.

The author of the venerable comic strip “Family Circus,” Bil Keane, alsobelieves in guardian angels. He often shows one of the children in thecomic strip being escorted through a dangerous intersection or beingwatched over at play by a protective angel. A nice touch is that theangel is often Bil’s father, who left this life some years ago. It is nodoubt a comfort to Bil to think that his father continues to watchover and care for him and his children.

About a year ago a lady in the office where I was working said that heryoung granddaughter sees and talks to angels. One day the girl noticed

TODAY: Be an angel. Do some-thing kind for another person. Butmake it something no one, includingthat person, will know about.

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the angel figure dangling from her grand-mother’s rearview mirror and exclaimed,“Michael! That’s Michael!” Her grandmotherbegan to believe that her granddaughtercould see her guardian angel. On anothertrip, the little girl was pointing over hershoulder into the back seat of the car. Finally,the grandmother asked what was wrong. Shetold her grandmother that Michael was inthe back seat and had a friend with him.Preoccupied, the lady said something incon-sequential but later wondered if the “friend”with Michael was not her own guardian angel,both of them there to protect the grand-mother and granddaughter on their journey.

When I moved to the Washington, D.C., areaand began to realize how dangerous the traf-fic here is, I began to hope for severalguardian angels to protect me as well as any-one else my mistakes might endanger. Myguardian angels have been hard at work, as Ihave had close calls but no significant inci-dents. Earlier this year I drove through thesnow that had been falling for about an hourto a shopping center. As I turned onto anoverpass to reach the mall, I saw a small blackcar crossways on the pavement and hit thebrakes. To my horror, the brakes would notwork on the icy overpass. All I could do wassteer toward the back of the other car, awayfrom the driver. My left front bumper hitthe back left bumper of the other car, scrap-ing some paint off that car and leaving mineundamaged. Both of us were shaken butuninjured.

Unlike my co-worker’s granddaughter, I can’tsee my guardian angels, but I know that theyare here.

— Aubrey Hamilton

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Thursday, March 13 Read: John 15:5

MAKING THE TIMEFor many years, I was always skeptical of those who said, “God told me. . . .” Having been a Christian for many years, I had never experiencedGod “talking.” Although my faith never really waned, I wondered if Iwould ever “hear” God telling me what to do. All of that changed inearly November 1990.

I had spent the previous several months training for the Marine CorpsMarathon. My mileage had been building steadily as I focused on mak-ing the time I needed to qualify for the Boston Marathon, a lifelonggoal. I was singularly focused on this goal and was incredibly fortunateto have a wonderful wife to supportme during the hours of training.

Finally the big day came. It was anunseasonably warm November day,and I started to wonder if I wouldmake the time I had set for myself.After the normal Marine CorpsMarathon scramble start, I got off to a good pace. At 10 miles Iclocked in under 65 minutes; Boston was within reach. But the heatbegan to take its toll, and I found myself struggling on the way toHains Point. Still, 8-minute miles would be enough to make the time.

I can’t remember most of the last six miles, but as I made my waytoward the finish at the Iwo Jima Memorial, I remember a roaringcrowd. I couldn’t see what they were cheering about until I turnedthe corner to head up the hill. There, halfway up the hill was a manfrom the wheelchair division of the Marathon competition giving it hisall. He had his wheelchair going up the hill backwards for maximumpulling strength.

I never wanted to help someone so much in my life. But he had to dothis on his own. I sprinted up the hill toward him and stopped, lookinghim in the eyes and yelling encouragement as loud as I could. I finishedthe race and qualified for Boston, but that suddenly seemed like a sec-ondary concern.

From that moment on, I realized that I had to make the time — tohelp others, serve the community and leave things better than I found

TODAY: Try somethingnew — running, playing thepiano, needlepoint, feedingthe birds — and listen forGod’s voice.

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them. Since that time I have become more involved in outreach at alllevels.

Turns out God was talking to me, through others. I just didn’t knowhow to listen. Now as I seek to do His will, I am ever alert to the signsHe sends me. On a few occasions, He has spoken to me directly, butthat’s a story for another time . . . .

— Dave Shields

Friday, March 14 Read: Matthew 5:9

BLESSED PEACEMAKERSHope, promise and peace are the themes of the season, but it seemsthe only theme we hear is “worry.” Worry about weapons of massdestruction, worry about war with ancient civilizations, worry aboutthe economy, worry about nuclear weapons, worry about security inour neighborhoods and worry about the future of our children.Perhaps each generation has had equiva-lent worries, but these times seem dif-ferent. Governments lead with threatsof missiles, warheads, troops and guns.

We wonder what Christ would do dur-ing these times. Surely He would seek tomake us “sons of God.” I look for help inthe scriptures and find words like . . . “Do not be overcome by evil, butovercome evil with good (Romans 12:21).” I often wonder if we canreally live up to those words. We are so intent on invading and punish-ing others rather than negotiating with them. Sometimes it seems wedon’t want to hear our enemies and know who they are and why theydo what they do.

“Saber rattling” carries us back to a primitive time when man solvedproblems through fighting as I did when I was a boy. When I was grow-ing up, I found that fighting another kid seldom really solved anything.Only when I could talk to the bully could I find a “win-win” situation.Now this doesn’t mean that every circumstance can be resolved bytalking (like Afghanistan), but I prefer to give it a really good effortfirst. It seems to me to be so clear that we must always be willing to

TODAY: Read thespeech former PresidentJimmy Carter deliveredwhen he accepted thisyear’s Nobel Peace Prize(www.cartercenter.org).

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Saturday, March 15 Read: Psalm 106:2

MIRACLES AND MIRACLESDo you believe that miracles happen today? Are miracles somethingthat only happen to others? Does it have to be something spectacu-lar to be a miracle?

I was watching a re-run of the sitcom “Cheers” one late night, and itmade me think about how I view miracles. In the episode, a man hadgone into the bar Cheers, had a few drinks, and, in the course of theevening, decided against joining a religious order. The gang fromCheers felt like it was their fault, so they tried to talk him back into it.The gentleman said he needed a sign. If he put money into the oldjukebox and a song played, it would mean he should join the order.Everyone knew it had been broken for a long time, but before theycould talk him out of it, he put in money and by some miracle, itworked! Everyone was amazed and felt it was a miracle.

After the man left, Coach remarked that it was a good thing he hadgotten the jukebox repaired the day before! Then everyone saw that

talk to another and listen with an open mind.

Recently I returned from East Timor. Most people don’t know whereit is in the world, but in the recent past, it has been the scene of a bru-tal war where hundreds of thousands of people were killed and thecapital city of Dili was completely burned. One man did speak outand reached out to find peaceful solutions. Bishop Carlos FilipeXimenes Belo, a Catholic bishop, is credited with bringing an end tothe hostilities. Ever heard of him? Again, probably not, because we, asAmericans, were never threatened. But the Nobel Committee award-ed him the Peace Prize in 1996. He was truly a peacemaker. The Nobelofficials believe that East Timor would not be the youngest country inthe world if it were not for his efforts. I also wonder why we remem-ber the names of generals but not peacemakers. Try it yourself. Makeyour own list. Where do you put your efforts?

Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall be called the sons of God.— John Weis

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there was a logicalexplanation. Butthey were confusedby Coach’s reaction.Since he knew it hadbeen repaired, theywondered why hehad thought it was amiracle. Coach saidthat the miracle wasthe fact that in allthe weeks andmonths that it hadbeen broken, hechose this particulartime to have it fixed— right before theman would need forit to work. Coachwas the only one tosee the real miracle. It didn’t have to be some mysterious supernaturalevent to qualify as a miracle.

As I thought about it, I know that way too often I think like most ofthe people at Cheers. I look for that logical explanation. I chalk it upto coincidence. I want to be more like Coach and see those miraclesthat happen on a daily basis. One Sunday when Jim Noland waspreaching about saints, he said that we are all saints, but some justhave a very small “s.” Maybe that’s how it is with miracles. There arethose “wow” miracles that have the large capital “M.” But more oftenthere are those everyday miracles that most of us don’t even see.

So for the coming year, I willresolve to be aware of andacknowledge those miracles,no matter how small the“m.” They really do exist ifwe are just open to theirpossibility!

— Joyce Lynn

TODAY: When asked why he was a manof hope, Cardinal Leo-Josef Suenens replied:“Because I believe that God is born aneweach morning, because I believe that he iscreating the world at this very moment. Hedid not create it at a distant and long-for-gotten moment in time. It is happeningnow. We must therefore be ready toexpect the unexpected from God. Theways of Providence are by nature surprising.We are not creatures of determinism. Godis near us, unforeseeable and loving. I am aman of hope, not for human reasons norfrom any natural optimism. But because Ibelieve the Holy Spirit is at work in thechurch and in the world and even where Hisname remains unheard.”

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Sunday, March 16 Read: John 15:5

AN ANCHORHave you ever been so overcommitted or sooverwhelmed that you became ineffective atpretty much everything? Not just unable togive your best at home or at your work or toyourself . . . you can't even seem to get adecent meal or find your car keys?

I've been there often enough in my life toknow my three most frequently traveled pathsto chaos. The first is my identity with “AdoAnnie” from “Oklahoma.” You know, “I’m justthe girl that can’t say no.” Then there is cir-cumstance, whether one big crisis or the snow-ball effect. And finally, desire: wanting morethan I can handle and often wanting it now.

Whatever the cause, I know the result —everything important to me suffers: my physi-cal and mental health, my work and my rela-tionships, espe-cially my relation-ship with God.

My life was injust such a stateof chaos a fewyears ago that, when I walked into a Biblestudy and was told we would have to memo-rize a verse a week to get the most out of thestudy, I almost burst into tears on the spot. Imanaged to wait until I got home to cry, andonce I started I didn't stop until I opened myBible to the verse for the week: John 15:5.

Since that night, that verse, God’s Word to me through His Son, hasbeen an anchor of my faith. A reminder that the relationship I toooften allow to be pushed from first place in my life is what gives melife. Without it, bearing the fruit God has planned for me is impossible.

— Judy Rudat

TODAY: What is keep-ing you from “remainingin” Christ today? Whatcan you do about it?

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Monday, March 17 Read: John 21:15-19

ENDINGS AND BEGINNINGSI have a mixed history with endings and beginnings. I have had so manythat I have lost count. I would like to report that with age and maturi-ty I have greeted the end/start of most cycles with satisfaction andeager anticipation, but such is not the case. I often found the changeintrusive and a source of anguish, but at other times, I welcomed thechange with cheers. This is surely the natural cycle of life — both ordi-nary and spiritual. And the holy time of Lent represents all the richnessand intensity of one of the greatest endings and beginnings of all time:the death and the rebirth of Christ.

Some of theplayers in theLenten experi-ence madeimportant tran-sitions that areeasy to overlookin the high dramaof the mainstory. Simon Peter is a case in point. Simon, as he was known whenJesus first met him, was hardly the kind of man most of us would lookto for leadership. He was impulsive, rash and forever simply missing thepoint. Recall that when Jesus attempted to wash his feet, Simoninsisted on having his whole body washed — nearly missing the impor-tance of Jesus’ symbolic act of servant leadership. And later when thesoldiers came to take Jesus, it was Simon who cut off one of the sol-dier’s ears. Poor Simon, he simply didn’t get it.

Most of us remember Simon’s major failure: proclaiming his unassailablelove to Jesus at their last supper, and then over the next days denyingthree times that he even knew Jesus. Simon must have been a miser-able and remorseful fellow indeed at Jesus’ death. Simon’s personalending with Jesus was bitter and betrayed much of what lay at his spir-itual core. A sorry ending.

Yet the seed of Simon’s new beginning had already been planted. At anearly meeting with the disciples, Jesus let Simon know he was choosinghim for a position of leadership and even changed his name to some-thing more suitable for a leader — Peter, which means “the rock.”

TODAY: Get up early and watch the sunrise.Follow the prophet Isaiah: “See I am doing a newthing. Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?I am making a way in the desert and streams inthe wasteland.” Appreciate the gift of newopportunity at the beginning of a new day.

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Given Simon Peter’s history, the other disciples must have been aston-ished at the choice. I can imagine them snickering about the irony ofSimon’s new name — this man was simply not a rock. On the day wecall Good Friday, most observers would affirm the disciples’ negativeassessment of Simon.

So when Jesus confronted Peter after the resurrection, it was a tensetime for Peter. His recent bitter and multiple failures weighed heavily.But Jesus spoke of none of the past failures. Instead he recognizedPeter in a new way — and Peter broke into tears. Some say Peter criedbecause he realized that he still loved Jesus, but a closer reading revealsthe glorious moment of Peter’s sure knowledge that Jesus still lovedhim. And because that is how God’s grace works, Peter eagerlyresponded positively to Jesus’ request to care for God’s sheep. Andwhat a new beginning Peter had as servant leader of the early church.The Book of Acts is filled with stories of his wisdom and steadfastness.Yet, in this new beginning, Peter deserved the name “Rocky.”

In recent years, I have been making the transition from an active busi-ness and professional life to that of a person staying at home with along-term disability. Not really what I had in mind as a capstone of 30years of growing responsibility with a not-for-profit research organiza-tion. Not what I had in mind as the sort of activities that would fill myretirement years. But the ending is undeniable, and beginnings are stillbeing revealed. What am I learning from all of this? One lesson is anold one I seem to need to repeatedly relearn: No matter what the sit-uation, there always seems to be enough of the things that matter —enough love, enough care, enoughopportunity to contribute, enoughof the world’s resources to meet ourearthly needs and enough rich rela-tionships to carry the transition nomatter how long. I take none of thisfor granted.

I am being called away from a lot offamiliar things in my private and pro-fessional life — and being called to besomething yet to be revealed. As animpatient person, I pray I will not missthe splendid revelations of the end-ings and beginnings ahead.

— Joe Matney Alex Taylor

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Tuesday, March 18 Read: Matthew 5:14-16

GIVE YOUR TALENTS Let’s talk about talents. Everyone has talents. Some show more thanothers, but everyone is good at something in their own way. Andeveryone, whether they realize it or not, can contribute with theirindividual talents.

Let’s say you’regood at singing.Someone, some-where would bedelighted to hearyour voice. Maybea grandma at anursing home whohasn’t heard amelodious tune inages. Or maybeyou’re a great com-municator andteacher. Someone, somewhere needs reassurance. Someone, some-where needs to know that they are loved. If you’re a writer, you caninform, help or even heal with your words. Someone, somewherecould be touched by what you have to say — even if your messagecomes across on paper.

Likewise, virtually any talent can be used to glorify God. As Christians,our job is to spread the Word, the good news, of Christ. Think aboutit. One of my favorite quotes is, “Do what you can do, with what youhave, where you are.” Anything you have is enough for God. Whereveryou are, whatever you can do, will be pleasing to God. So don’t hideyour talents under the bowl. Put them on a stand, where they arethere to be pleasing to God and to be enjoyed by others. Don’t keepyour God-given talents to yourself. Because when you put your lighton the stand, it will shine on others’ shadows, and you will know thatyou have used what you have, where you are, to do what you can. Youwill know that your talents are not only for you, but they can touchother people in so many ways. So this Lenten season, give. Give yourtalents and your light, and it will shine through the whole house.

— Jodi LeBolt, age 13

TODAY: Prove Martin Luther King Jr.’s pointthat everyone has talent: “Everybody can begreat. Because anybody can serve. You don’tneed a college degree to serve. You don’t haveto make your subject and verb agree to serve.You don’t have to know about Plato andAristotle to serve. You don’t have to knowEinstein’s theory of relativity to serve. Youdon’t have to know the second theory ofthermodynamics to serve. You only need aheart full of grace. A soul generated by love.”

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I was reminded the other day of one of the reasons I “make” my chil-dren attend Sunday school and church each week. A new member ofour church who has gotten involved in some of the church activitiescalled to say she was very happy that she and her family have chosenThe Church of the Good Shepherd as their new church. She was busyworking on a church project one daywhen she noticed one of the chil-dren in our church go outside on abitter cold day without a coat orwarm clothing. She realized thischild was a child with unique needsand stopped her work as she decid-ed whether she should follow thechild or go get someone else. Shetold me that, in the moment shestood making a decision on how toreact, two other adults quietlywalked outside to welcome thechild back indoors. She said she wasmoved to tears by the love of eachof the men, as they didn’t thinktwice about intervening in helping a child at the church. She went onto mention that she has witnessed similar things throughout thechurch, and she is thrilled to have her children become part of ourchurch family.

It was a wonderful reminder of why I put up with complaints andprotests on Sunday morning from my children as we rush to get readyfor church. I want my children to be part of a bigger Christian familythan my husband and I can provide in Northern Virginia with no imme-diate family close by. My 11-year-old doesn’t like the sermons yet, andmy 6-year-old still colors pictures throughout the service, but theyfeel loved and accepted each time they enter the doors of the church.Their involvement in Sunday school, the chime choirs and Kids’ Club isan investment of time for all of us, but I know I am providing some-thing that is becoming part of their faith journey.

— Joan Fletcher


Wednesday, March 19 Read: Psalm 25:4

A CHURCH FAMILY

TODAY: Share this prayer:Dear Lord, Help me focus onwhat my time and my chil-dren’s time should befocused on. Help let thebusy world not overwhelmme and guide my activities asI do the best I can raising mychildren. Show me yourways and teach me yourpaths. Thank you for yourmany blessings. Amen.

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Thursday, March 20 Read: Isaiah 43:4

GOD’S VOICEI chose this day to contribute to the Lenten Devotional because it’smy mother’s birthday. This is a woman who sits today in the SunriseAssisted Living Residence. This is a woman who raised five children,four of them boys; who followed a Marine around the globe for 48years; who decided to go back to work at age 45 and ended up asmanager of a large savings & loan in no time flat. This is a woman whorecently saw her husband go before her, and within less than a year,watched her second oldest son go before her as well.

And now she sits in a wheelchair and hopes her “good hand” won’t giveout on her. She wonders where in the world this multiple sclerosiscame from. Her daily concerns are things we don’t think twice aboutin our daily routine. “Why am I still here? What purpose do I serve?”She asks. I’ve even heard from her lips, “I’m not good for anything,” —this woman who has been through it all and has survived.

Oh, if she wouldonly realize.

My mom is herefor all those whoknow her andwhose daily lives are touched by her. One of those people is me. She ishere for all those people who “do” for her. Her purpose is not how tofix our lives or even to make us all smile, though she still knows how todo that well. She is here because God wants us to learn from her andthrough her — from her strength as she does His will. It is not onlythrough happiness and sunlight that God speaks.

Remember this when times get rough and you are faced with hardship.And if you are reading this, Mom, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

— Anonymous

TODAY: Make someone you love smile. Writea note to them and secretly place it where theyare sure to see it — in a lunch sack, a purse, abriefcase, a book, a pocket or under a pillow.

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Friday, March 21 Read: Psalm 37:4-5

A SIGN OF GOD’S PROMISEIt was January 1990 when I had my own Aldersgate conversion experi-ence. My marriage had broken up years before, and it had been a verylong, painful process of learning and growing until I could feel wholeagain. Completely broken, I went into a Christian church and heardabout the God of forgiveness, mercy and grace. I also heard that toreceive these offerings all I had to do was ask the enabler, Jesus Christ,into my heart.

The church I had grown up inprofessed to be Christian,but stressed the wrath ofGod in place of God’s mercy.Now, on this day many yearslater, I realized that myimperfect, undeserving selfdid not have to earn theblessings of Christ. I accept-ed Jesus that day andentered into the most won-derful relationship withAlmighty God. My crippling guilt was being replaced with God’s abun-dant graces. I committed myself to learning about God, devotingmany hours per week to formal and personal Bible study and prayer. Ihad a new life.

Although I greatly desired to be married again, to a Christ-centeredman, I knew that it would be awhile before I would be restored enoughemotionally and spiritually to be able to identify someone who wouldbe ideal for me, and I for him. For the next few years, my relationshipwith God grew by leaps and bounds. Simultaneously, I began to longmore and more for that soul mate. As the desire in me grew, I foundand claimed Psalm 37:4-5. I discerned that the longing I had would notbe there if God was not going to fill it. I trusted that, in God’s time,God would unite me with the appropriate person.

In March 1994, I came to a crossroads in my life. Several monthsbefore, I had finally begun dating a good Christian man that I thoughtcould be this soul mate, but it did not work out, and we stopped see-

TODAY: This is the first day ofspring. Do something special foryour birds. Install a birdhouse, buy abirdbath or erect a birdfeeder. Learnsomething about your new friends,how their appearance or their songsdiffer, where they migrate each win-ter, their favorite nesting places.Then give thanks for the richnessand diversity of God’s world.

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ing each other. Just after this breakup, I was driving home on I-95 fromMyrtle Beach with my two grown daughters and had a terrible caraccident. Although my car was totaled, thank God, my daughterswere not harmed. I suffered some minor but painful chest injuries.

While I was home recuperating, the longing and loneliness I felt justincreased all the more. Of course, I cried out to God, and God sentme a gift. It was spring, and a pair of mourning doves made a nest in awooden wreath on my front door. They got used to my comings andgoings, and would show me their baby dove. I became very attachedto this little family. One Sunday they flew away, and I knew that theywould not return. My loneliness became quite intense, and I claimedthe Psalm passage again.

On the very next Sunday, God brought my soul mate to me. He alsohad been praying for a long time to meet his soul mate! We marriedthe next year. We have grown together in our faith and our love. Weare also dedicated to caring for the wild birds on our property. Amongour bird family are many mourning doves, who I know mate for life. Tome, they will always be a sign of God’s promise.

— Pat Evers

Saturday, March 22 Read: 1 Kings 19:11-13

LISTENING TO GODThis past August, my cousin Laurie, whom I had never known, con-tacted and visited me. Laurie was attempting to locate members ofour family after being orphaned 40 years ago. She was doing anInternet search of articles on the original family when she scored a sin-gle hit on an Episcopal parish in Arlington, Va., with our cousin George’sname listed as a volunteer. Strangely, a few days later, the Web site nolonger listed George on the site. Laurie wrote to George at thechurch, hoping that letters would be passed along to George. Therewas never a response.

On Dec. 29, I woke at 3 a.m. and was unable to return to sleep. I wasdeeply troubled by something, not knowing what. In the sheer silence,my subconscious opened over the next several hours, then suddenlythe thought of my cousin George, whom I had never met, filled myheart. I understood from where this had come; it was God speaking tome in that silence asking me to find his lost sheep. It was now time to

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find George, because God had spoken.

In the morning, I went to the church from the Internet listing. Insidethe sanctuary, I worshiped with Christians who looked like my homecongregation. After the service, I was invited for coffee in the fellow-ship hall where I inquired of George. The kind lady responded with asmile, telling me that George was a “character,” although she said hishealth had not been good. She introduced me to others who hadmore contact with him. I learned that life had been very hard on him.

They also told me where George lived, and I set off to find him. WhenI was unable to find his place, I returned to that lovely church. Those

ladies, George’s angels, told me that Ididn’t have to look further. Georgewas in the church, although they saidhe didn’t know any Patty. There up along hallway I saw a tall, frail gentle-man. He walked with a cane, slowlywith the outward shaky signs of astroke patient. I went to him andcalled his name, “George?” He said,

“Yes,” and stared at me with shock and disbelief. I told him who I was,and that I was his cousin. I told him that his family wanted to find him,that he had family who cared very much about him. He held his head,stunned, and was in tears. I held him and told him that he had beenfound.

In that moment when I hugged him, I saw God’s love in his eyes, alongwith the redemption that comes to those who believe in Jesus Christ.I also saw redemption for George, a chance to have back his familyafter 40 years. And I knew beyond a doubt that the sound of sheersilence had opened my heart and ears to God’s love.

— Patty Icke

TODAY: Enrich your lifewith a search for yourroots. Write a letter to anaunt or uncle, a cousin or achildhood friend youhaven’t contacted in years.

Sunday, March 23 Read: Matthew 5:14-16

QUIET IN NEW YORK CITYMonday, July 15, 2002, was a normal, very hot day in New York City.Rodney and I were on a whirlwind, three-day trip with our sons, plusRodney’s sister, brother-in-law, niece, nephew and friend from NewZealand. It was not Rodney’s or my first trip, but the other seven peo-ple were enjoying the sights of the “Big Apple” for the first time.

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The main place we all wanted to visit was Ground Zero. We took thesubway from Times Square to St. Paul’s Chapel. As we climbed thesteps to the street, there was a sudden and noticeable change. Peoplewere walking in the same direction. All were looking at the hundredsof thousands of tributes to the people who died on Sept. 11, 2001.Pictures, flowers, shoes and Bibles were placed on the iron fencearound the church. Everyone was looking, pointing and whispering.

But the noises that usually engulf the city were gone. There was asilence that was unbelievable. There was a true reverence for thisplace that is across the street to where the nearly three thousandpeople died on Sept. 11, 2001.

As we walked around the fence, stopping to look at many of thememorials, the quiet was so peaceful. There were none of the loudnoises that are usually heard in one of the largest cities in the world.No cabs and cars honking, no people yelling and screaming, no bells, nowhistles. Instead, there was just very soft talking and tears.

Then we saw the huge hole wherethe World Trade Center oncestood. It truly took our breathaway. That horrible day and every-thing that happened becameextremely clear once again. As welooked up at the buildings on allsides of where the World TradeCenter stood, we noticed the dam-age to all of the skyscrapers. Butwe quickly noticed that St. Paul’sChapel was not touched. This was, at first, a shock to the members ofour group from New Zealand. Then I stated, “If you didn’t believe inGod before, certainly you believe in him now.” I guess that the old say-ing of “God works in mysterious ways” is very true indeed. St. Paul’sChapel stands as a sign of God’s grace that reminds us that, even inthe darkness of that horrible day in our history, the light still shines.

— Pam Rawlinson

TODAY: Devote prayerfultime studying the modern his-tory of the magnificentGothic cathedral in Cologne,Germany. While the rest of thecity was destroyed duringWorld War II, the cathedralmiraculously survived.

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Monday, March 24 Read: Psalm 32:8

FAITH,TRUST AND A CHILD“I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will coun-sel you and watch over you.” These are the words I clung to during adifficult time of my life when it looked like the walls were closing in.

It was a late night after a long day, and I was alone in a hotel room thatcould have been in any city in the United States. The room was com-fortable and clean, but I was uneasy about what I was about to dis-cover. You see, I was entrenched in the working world; most of mydays were spent contributing to the companies with which I had beenemployed, climbing the ladder of success, rung by rung. Living in thecity, in an apartment in the middle of town, I enjoyed early morningwalks to work, arriving before most of the employees, to get a headstart on the day’s activities. Years of working late and dinners with the“company team” had become a regular routine ... the business worldsuited me well. The few friends I knew were those whom I’d met atthe gym; we saw each other on an infrequent basis, but I really didn’tneed close relationships. In fact, with the work and travel schedule Iwas keeping, there really wasn’t much time for relationships. Parentsand siblings were far away, letters back and forth were frequent, butvisits were few.

So I found myself that night, waiting in a dimly lit hotel room. Thesmall print on the box suggested that pregnancy test results weremost reliable when the test was taken in the early morning hours.Trying to sleep at such a time is not something that comes easily. Theinevitable questions invaded my thoughts ... How could I have gottenmyself into such a situation? “There is a time for everything,”Ecclesiastes 3:1 tells us, and there is a good reason that we are schooledin the logic of getting married before having children. Had I truly aban-doned the teachings I’d grown up with? A businesswoman, especially asingle businesswoman, has no place for a baby in her life. What aboutthe long hours, the travel? And what about the baby? How could Ijustify having a child, knowing how little time I would spend being amother? As I sat there, head spinning, minutes dragged into hours, andfinally the time arrived to find the answer to the question that I haddreaded. It wasn’t long before the answer came ... a definite yes.

The rest of the business trip was a blur. Arriving back in the city, I keptmy “secret” concealed for several months, trying to figure out how I

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was going to handle everything, until the obvious was spilling out.After explaining the pregnancy with employers, I flew home toannounce the news to my parents and family; well aware that theywould not be happy with the way it had all happened. Embarrassed totears with each pronouncement and very afraid of what the futureheld, I left the home of my parents to return to work, selfishly shat-tered. Frightened and alone, but aware that I had to take full responsi-bility for my actions, I desperately sought reassurance from the wordsof Jeremiah 29:11. “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares theLord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give youhope and a future.”

The only way I could go on, toface my future was to trust thatthe Lord our God had a plan formy life, and face each day inhumble prayer. Was this theLord’s path for my life? Did Iunderstand the Lord’s way? No.Did I understand why? No. DidI like what I had done? No. DidI want a change in the career lifeI was living? No.

But a change did come. Andthough it wasn’t easy, and itwasn’t smooth, a change did come. I was dragged kicking and scream-ing into the world of Motherhood. After nine months of fear, anxietyand prayer, I delivered a beautiful, healthy baby. The pregnancy hadbeen textbook, according to my doctors. Though trembling fearfullythroughout it all, my delivery was simple ... not even anesthetic wasrequired. The baby was born in tiptop shape, with all the fingers andtoes God’s tiny creatures are supposed to have.

Today, I marvel at the miraculous creation that was brought into mylife. This beautiful child is mine for a few years, to nurture and guide.Having a baby did indeed turn my world around. The change I had soresisted did come. The earlier life I was clinging to was no longer partof my world. God apparently had a different plan for my life; fourmonths after the birth, my job was mysteriously terminated. The tran-sition I went through was lengthy, and indescribably confusing. Day byday, I had to believe the words of Psalm 32:8; our God was instructingme in His way, His path to travel, His path for my life. And guess what?

TODAY: Share Marian WrightEdelman’s poem: “Lord, we havepushed so many of our childreninto the tumultuous sea of life inleaky boats without survival gear.Forgive us and help them [or ourchildren] forgive us. Help us nowto give all our children the anchorof faith, the rudder of hope, thesails of education and paddles offamily to keep them going whenlife’s sea gets rough.”

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He was! For the loss of my old life was the birth of something evenbetter ... something I would never have dreamed possible. For that lit-tle baby ... this growing child, has become the joy and love of my life,the very reason for my existence.

We are a family of four now. And every day, I thank our God for whatHe has provided me.

— Anonymous

Tuesday, March 25 Read: Matthew 24:35

REST IN PEACEDuvall was laid to rest today. I did not know him, but I cherish andrespect his daughter, so he must have been a good man. Friends andfamily came and overflowed the simple black church in Marshall, Va., atthe beginning of a hot July morning. A narrow country lane lined withoak and maple trees led to the church. We parked our cars on thegrass, and as flat tombstonessurfaced, we had to be care-ful not to park on a lovedone. A viewing preceded theservice with greetings, hugs,handshakes and introductionsmade amongst attendees.Tears became waterfalls onlyto dry up and recharge.

The church lent a cool solaceto the hot sun, and one couldsee the parishioners’ handiwork in the stonework of the building as weentered. Wooden pews led to a viewing area where Duvall was placedbetween two torch lamps with rose shades that cast a warm heavenlyglow. Perhaps it provided a vision of the upcoming journey. The smallchurch was overflowing, and more chairs had to be brought into thesanctuary. And as time passed, the sanctuary was enlarged conve-niently into the social hall. How many times had this happened in thepast and would continue into the future?

Sitting there looking forward, I could see everyone arrive and sit infront of Duvall or with others in the social hall as the crowd swelled.And while wearing black was considered to be socially correct, many

TODAY: Write to an acquaintancefrom your parents’ or grandparents’generation. Discover something newabout them — how their familycame to America, what sort of workthey did, what traditions they have.Or write to your child, passing onsomething of your family’s history toa new generation.

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chose to adorn their dress with a striking hat or engaging tie. Thechurch itself was bathed in a filtered light that boldly entered thepainted windows, while overhead the brass ceiling fans moved the air.And the air soon filled with all sorts of wonderful aromas as freshcooked fried chicken and ham, potato salad and breads were placed inthe back room of the hall. Small talk halted as we paused to take inthe nurture of small town America on a hot July morning.

Duvall was laid to rest today in a small church in a village that wit-nessed visitors on other hot July days long ago as troops crisscrossedthe area bound for battle in the woods and fields nearby. This was achurch that, for a century and a half has held the memories of manyfamilies and born the happiness and grief of Southern history.

And this was another day in a new century. All who pass have memo-ries of a new conflict and will be inescapably linked due to the eventsof Sept. 11, leaving us our own somber and everlasting remembrance.

Duvall was a good man; we would know this from the simplicity of thelove and sharing that passed in this church. With a full heart, we leftthe church, its history and special memories on the narrow lane, andcontinued our own journey onto the interstate, past the farms, backto the city.

Duvall was laid to rest today. — Scott Tilley

Wednesday, March 26 Read: Jeremiah 29:11-14

THE GAME OF LIFETwenty years ago today Mike and I walked down the aisle of my homechurch in Kentucky and became one. It was a significant date for usand for the entire state — also marking the first time the University ofKentucky and University of Louisville basketball teams had played eachother in 50 years! Several of our journalist colleagues had to miss ourwedding to cover that exciting game that went into overtime just aswe became man and wife. Even the faithful attending our ceremonyran to a television set to see the Cardinals beat the Cats before joiningthe wedding receiving line. Basketball, as they say in Kentucky, is thestate religion.

We had carefully planned our wedding date NOT to conflict with

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what we handicapped the NCAA tournament to produce. But theunthinkable happened, and the state’s two rivals each advanced tothat critical game. It was an opening lesson in marriage that theunthinkable and unexpected will happen, that we cannot always con-trol the events of our lives and of the importance of rememberingwho and what brought you to the altar in the first place.

We celebrate 20 years today after spending our 19th year together insurviving what life can throw your way. In the span of seven months,we lost two of four beloved dogs. In between, I spent several monthsat the bedside of my father, watching his gallant but futile fight againstprostate cancer. He was buried in Kentucky the day the sniper attacksstarted in the Washington area. My husband was there to support meand share my grief.

During my time with my father, Iresearched his experience as a WorldWar II prisoner of war in Germany sothat I could learn more about how hesurvived that harrowing experience.His B-24 was shot down on March26, 1945 — 38 years to the day hewould walk me down the aisle. What I learned most, however, was howmy father approached his death. I watched his tremendous courage,his acceptance and his reaching out to others. His quiet faith wasstrong and enduring, and we all knew that God was with him everystep of the way, no matter what. This was the legacy that he leftbehind for his children and grandchildren.

My father knew that my husband and I were facing our biggest chal-lenge in parenting our teenage son. He died before things spiraled outof control. One month after my father’s death, we faced difficultdecisions. We knew something else had to be done before our son’simpulsive behavior ended his chance for the good and productive lifewe knew God must have planned for him.

We prayed for guidance and strength, as this was clearly a test for ourmarriage and our family. We asked others for prayers and acceptedhelp that was offered. Our cloud seemed to lift a little as we found awonderful educational consultant who deals with troubled teens andtheir parents. She recommended a wilderness therapy program inUtah, and within days, he was there in the wilderness.

TODAY: Decide to live inthe moment. Celebratetoday — a Wednesday —with your spouse, a friend, achild, a teenager. Keep itsimple.

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Thursday, March 27 Read: Romans 8:28

A SPECIAL REUNIONWhen I think about Christ’s persecution, the closest situation I cancome to in my own life in comparison to how He must have felt is inthe days of my youth, especially 8th grade. It was the year my familymoved to Punxsutawney, Pa., where my father took on a new appoint-ment at the First United Methodist Church. This was a difficult yearfor me as I was just getting use to junior high school only to have topack all my things, leave all my friends and move to a new community.

As a shy pre-teen, I wasn’t the most accepted as the preacher’s kid inschool. In addition, the clothes I wore weren’t the most up-to-datestyles. When the girls in my homeroom class snickered as I walked by, Iwould just plead with the Lord that He would bring this agony to anend. I remember my faith becoming stronger at that time as I had notmade many friends. I would silently talk to God to get through theday and hope that no one would say any more rude comments to me.While talking with my mom about my situation, she kept reminding methat things would work out some day, especially if I trusted the Lord.

The wilderness experience had its ups and downs, but at the end oftwo months, our son made significant progress with the help of a dedi-cated therapist. A Christmas letter of encouragement from my hus-band and a book by a friend about boys and manhood were pivotalevents. And so in early January, my husband and I traveled to Utah tospend the day and the night with him in the wilderness before he wenton to his next school program. We were warmed by the fire he startedwithout any matches and nurtured by the meal he cooked over thefire. But we were most warmed by his acknowledgement that he hadrealized that we sent him to the wilderness not because we wanted tosend him away but because we wanted to get him back.

I didn’t know what I was getting in for 20 years ago as I began my mar-ried life. I didn’t sign up for this past year of pain and suffering. But Iknow that in this game of life, my husband and I have recognized whatwe need most when the unexpected happens and the game goes intoovertime. We want God as our coach to help us through and cheer uson. And we want to be warmed and supported by the prayers, loveand support of others.

— Becky Todd York

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Eventually, life DID get better by the time I entered high school. I metwonderful friends and actually looked forward to school every day. Inaddition, I was able to take on a part-time organist position at mychurch, which did wonders for my self-esteem.

Ten years later, I attended my high school reunion. The same girls whomade fun of my outfits in 8th grade were in their clique again in thecorner of the room. I sat at the table with all the “single girls” and rem-inisced about high school. One of the guys I vaguely rememberedwalked toward me and started to talk tome about how he admired my piano play-ing in the “Girl’s Double Trio.” He was partof the “in crowd,” and his name was Mike.

He learned via the alumni directory that Ilived near him in Virginia prior to approach-ing me at the reunion. We exchanged e-mail addresses before we left. Eventually, we talked on the phone andset up our first date. One of the things we did was dig out the year-book of our senior year and go through all the people in our class. Heseemed to know what a good many of our classmates were doing;some of their stories were surprising to me. We felt lucky to accom-plish what we had so far. It soon became obvious to me that despitemy difficulty in 8th grade, God had a purpose in transferring my dadto the little town of Punxsutawney in 1983. This was the place whereI would eventually meet my husband Mike. Since then the lesson inRomans 8:28 has become a lot more real to me as I witness the good-ness of our Lord in so many areas of my life.

— Michele Bair

Friday, March 28 Read: 2 Corinthians 6:2

GOD’S TIME IS ALWAYS NOW

TODAY: Make a listof five or 10 things forwhich you are grateful.Then do something toshow your gratitude.

This verse tells me that now — every day, in every circumstance — isthe time for God’s favor. Too often, though, it’s only when I look back,well after the moment of His favor, that I see the perfectly timed“now” of God’s listening and helping. I know that such a moment camethis past December. It came when, once again, we just weren’t quitesure “what to do with Whitey.”

It seems that, for all of my dad’s 81 years on this earth, folks who knewMerritt Wilbur White — “Whitey” — and lived with him and loved

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him — well, we didn’t always know what to do with him.

He certainly ran circles around the old maid aunts who raised him fromthe age of 3 when his parents died in the influenza epidemic. Perhapslosing the expected script for family life so early was why my dad neverquite followed anyone else’s script either. Whatever the reason, youngWhitey would not stay put and would not do what was expected. At14, he left school and home to hop a train for California. Adventure— the riskier the better — was what life was about.

Whitey eventually took the test for his high school diploma, attendedcollege and acquired a pilot’s license, a real estate license, a degree inmortuary science and a license for driving ambulances, 18-wheelers anda Greyhound bus. He also passed the civil service test to work as afederal corrections officer — and learned to make book on baseball,basketball and football games. Gambling was, without a doubt, hismost successful financial adventure.

Somewhere in all this, Whitey talked my mom, a serious nursing stu-dent with two feet on the ground, into marrying him. Their engage-ment was long enough for her to know what kind of domestic ride shewas in for. Before their vows were said, Whitey, on separate occasions,had flipped her from the back of his motorcycle, set the sirens scream-ing on his ambulance to get her back to her dorm on time and landedher safely but unexpectedly in a soybean field when his flying skillscalled for it.

Did marriage and six children rein in my dad? Did he fit in with theother dads? No, now there were seven of us who didn’t quite knowwhat to do with Whitey — except go along for the ride and enjoy hiswit and exuberance and uncanny ability to keep landing on his feet.Without a thought for safety belts or helmets, we’d all pile into thetrailer pulled by his Italian motor scooter and head out on the express-way to the city swimming pool. Or we’d pack the Volkswagen van (mydad bought one when folks were still pointing and laughing at this “boxon wheels”) and drive all night to Florida in time to jump into thewaves before the sun came up.

Did golden years and retirement finally tether Whitey to the hearth?Not quite. When he wasn’t, as he liked to say, “traveling vicariously”through his children who, at one point, landed on four different conti-nents, he was packing his bags for some sailing in the China Sea or casi-no hopping in Macao.

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Need I say that my mother knew how to pray? She laughed and criedand prayed her way through 57 years of marriage to Whitey. She neverdid go along with the gambling. The other thing she balked at was mydad’s insistence that, upon death, his body would go to EmoryUniversity for medical research. He would joke that this was one wayto get into med school.

Then came the verdict of cancer that finally confined my dad to homeand bed for the last year of his life. Prayers ARE answered. Duringthose last days, there was no pain, no impatience with having to stayput, no railing against this last card that life had dealt. In fact, Whitey’suncharacteristic peace with himself and his spoken peace with Godwas a last gift to all of us who knew the flighty Whitey that no oneknew quite what to do with. He died in his bed with his wife and threeof his children at hand.

Now, back to the per-fectly timed “now” ofGod’s listening and help-ing. For the two yearsafter my dad’s body was donated to Emory Medical School, my momwas not entirely at peace with what to do when his ashes werereturned to her. The question hung about, sometimes brought upwhen we all got together, but never fully resolved. We children wor-ried that the “package” would arrive when no one was home with ourmother. What to do with Whitey when he arrived was the big ques-tion.

And then it all came together. This past December, five of the six chil-dren had agreed to meet at our mother’s house right after Christmasto do some painting and fixing. The day the four sisters arrived, ourbrother called to say that he had Whitey’s ashes. He had picked themup that day after making an inquiry about my mother’s returned checksent to cover the mailing expense.

The next morning dawned with blue skies and a surprisingly warm win-ter sun. Two years and 10 days after his death, Whitey’s ashes werelovingly returned to the earth on the five acres of woods where he andmy mother had lived for more than 40 years. There were 14 childrenand grandchildren surrounding my mother at “the rocky place” — afavorite play spot of our childhood. We were sure Whitey wouldn’tmind being there either.

— Barbara Appling

TODAY: Don’t put it off. Write or tella friend — or a stranger — how he or shereflects God’s goodness and love.

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Saturday, March 29 Read: Exodus 4:13

GOD’S SPECIAL GRACEAs I learned through my Disciple Bible study class, much of the OldTestament has to do with God choosing unlikely persons as leaders orprophets. Moses, for example, was a reluctant candidate when Godchose him to lead the Israelites out of Egypt. He asked God to “pleasesend someone else.”

I have often asked myself why God chose our daughter Claire to bestricken by a brainstem tumor at the age of 25 months, a tumor thatthe doctors pronounced definitively fatal. Why Claire, why me, whyour family? What did we do to deserve to suffer so much, for there isno greater torture than seeing one’s child suffer.

In the beginning, four years ago, I felt only despair, anger and incompre-hension about God’s cruelty. But over time, it has become apparentthat He has a different plan for Claire than the diagnosis given by herdoctors. Claire is surviving. She is a beautiful, gifted child, connectedto God in a very real way. She does not yet know how special she is.

As the story of Claire’s life and ourlife continues to unfold, I am begin-ning to understand that being cho-sen by God for this journey wasnever a curse. Rather, we have beengiven the greatest gift ever — our child has been saved and healed. Itake nothing for granted. I believe there is nothing more wonderfulthan a perfectly ordinary day. The “simple things” in life feel especiallyexquisite: seeing Claire run and laugh, watching her climb into theschool bus, seeing a Popsicle melt down her chin, hearing her delight asshe tears open a Christmas present, watching her ride her bike and playwith her brother or her best friend, Melanie, sharing her excitementover her first loose tooth.

Because we thought we would never be allowed to experience inClaire these things that one often takes for granted with children, themere fact of their occurrence brings joy and gratitude of a sort so pro-found that I wonder if I could ever have experienced it otherwise.With this gratitude comes humility, because I can never forget whomade these feelings possible. And in humility comes a more direct rela-tionship with God, because in my heart, I thank Him each time I can

TODAY: Start a faith journalby listing five blessings you havereceived from God.

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Sunday, March 30 Read: Psalm 46:10

BE STILLStillness of the spirit calls to me. And too often it escapes me.

My first notion of stillness came with the frustrated order of my par-ents to “sit still and payattention!” Stillness meantnot having fun while I frozemy body into a state ofobedient learning, clearlymissing out on somethingbetter, somewhere.

My grandmother changedforever my understandingof stillness. Our peoplecome from EasternKentucky, and my grand-mother (MaMaw), like nearly all the women in the hills back then,received little education and married young. What she knew of read-ing she learned from the Bible. She grew into the practice of spendingat least one hour each day in total quiet, with no distractions, steepedin quiet reflection of God. Each of her five granddaughters had theexperience of being drawn into that same stillness. I remember at theage of 6 following MaMaw upstairs to her room to sit with her duringjust such a quiet time. She gently sat me on one chair while she sat

TODAY: Find a quiet place and praythis prayer: Gracious Father, help usto be still in our presence with You.Let us draw closer to You in thismoment of quiet peace, free of fearsand defeating thoughts. Surround uswith the stillness of Your everlastinglove and the everlasting life broughtto us through Your Son.

kiss, hold and absorb my daughter and my son. Claire truly is God’s giftto our family, to all those who know her and to all those whose livesshe touches.

As one of my Disciple classmates told me, my family was chosen byGod to shepherd Claire through her life because He knew we could doit. It was not a random event. Like Moses, I did not want to be “cho-sen” by God to have a child diagnosed with a fatal illness. But as wesee with each passing month, this mission we’ve been given is filledwith blessings and gifts — the gift of faith in seeing God’s workrevealed in Claire, the gifts of healing, gratitude, humility, compassionand joy in the beauty of a normal day.

— Elisabeth Russell

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across from me. She said, simply, “Now let’s be still.” Then came a mag-ical kind of stillness, a silence I could almost hear. I felt her presence.My head chatter stopped, and I seemed to be floating. Somehow Iknew that her stillness with God was my stillness, too.

It has been said that God is stillness, a place of perfect peace. Formost of us, that concept is hard to grasp, besieged as we are by thedemands of clocks, computers, traffic, errands, family events and theconstant noise of living.

In my work with people, particularly in life coaching, I have come tounderstand the power of being still with someone, present with one inthe moment, quiet, at peace. My journey with God has ultimatelycome back to the power of stillness I learned as a child.

Imagine how silent the world became after the crucifixion of our Lord.Imagine the sorrowful stillness as Mary Magdalene came at dawn tothe tomb of Jesus. But it became not the stillness of a body in linenwrappings — it became the brilliant silence of the Resurrection ofJesus and all humankind.

Stillness can be a blessing, a prayer, and a moment to feel the promiseof Resurrection and the love of God.

— Leia Francisco

Monday, March 31 Read: 1 Corinthians 6:19-20

YOUR BODY IS A TEMPLEOur cars are oftenour most prizedpossessions. Weput expensive oil inthem, bathe themwith special soap,wax them untilthey shine and fill them only with the right fuel. We park across twospaces to lessen the chance of dents. We don’t run them on empty orwhen they get too hot.

On the other hand, we expect our bodies to skip meals and run onempty. We fill them with the wrong fuel and wonder why they run

TODAY: Take a first step and start on awalking program. Don’t worry about distanceor speed or sore muscles. Start with a 15-minute walk, then gradually increase your time.

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Tuesday, April 1 Read: 2 Corinthians 4:18

DOGS IN HEAVENOur dog Montana recently died. Montana was quite a dog. She wasstrong-willed, wily and beautiful. She loved to chase squirrels, to swimin the creek and to ignore us when we called for her. By no means wasshe a perfect dog, but we loved her just the same.

She became old, like all living creaturesmust, and we needed to have hereuthanized. This was a very sad timein our house. The night before wetook her to the veterinarian, she wasvery uncomfortable, panting andunable to walk. To bring her comfort,I played Beethoven’s “MoonlightSonata” for her. If this beautiful musiccan bring comfort to humans, couldn’tit bring comfort to animals as well?(Doesn’t music speak a universal lan-guage that all nationalities can under-stand? Alas, my discourse on the mir-acles of music must wait for anotherday.)

During her life, Montana was happiest outside. It only seemed fittingto bury her in the wild. As I placed her in the ground, it struck me howdifferent she felt when there was no life in her. What happened to hervital essence? The body I held in my arms was not Montana; there wasmore to her than bones, muscles and fur.

I began to ponder what had happened to her spirit. We are taughtthat our spirits live with God after we die. But why would God only

TODAY: Share this poemof John Soos: To be of theearth is to know the rest-lessness of being a seed; thedarkness of being planted;the struggle toward light;the pain of growth towardlight; the joy of burstingand bearing fruit; the loveof being food for someone;the scattering of yourseeds; the decay of the sea-sons; the mystery of death;and the miracle of birth.

out of power. We run them too hard or not at all. Rarely do we givethem time to rest.

God came to us in human form in the person of Jesus Christ. By thiswe know that God values our bodily existence. Surely we can honorthis gift with as much respect as our material possessions.

— Mary Anne Noland

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want to share eternity with humans? Hecreated animals as well. And sometimes,dogs can be nicer than people. Dogs mustcertainly go to heaven too.

Unfortunately, I’m the sort of person whowants empirical evidence to support myfaith. With my liberal arts background, I try to study physics to under-stand the origin of the universe, the origin of matter, etc. My discern-ment is very limited, and I know I should have stronger faith. I am try-ing; but in the meantime, I have found a fit with physics and faith thathelps me sleep at night.

The Law of Conservation of Energy states that energy, once created,is not lost. What does this theory have to do with dogs and heaven?

Montana was composed of energy — I can attest to this. When Iburied her, that energy was no longer present in her. Where did it go?Energy can’t be destroyed; this would counter the Law ofConservation of Energy. So, her energy, her spirit, her vital essencemust have gone somewhere. I believe it joined all the other energyforces of which living things are made in heaven with God!

What have I learned from my dog? I will try to live my life more likeMontana lived hers. Montana didn’t try to understand things herbrain was incapable of comprehending; I will try to quit puzzling overlife’s big questions, as these are issues that the human brain may not becapable of comprehending. Instead, I will enjoy my runs outside, lie inthe sun on warm spring days and sometimes bark at the neighbors whodon’t seem too friendly (because I’m not perfect, either).

— Kathy Hansen

Wednesday, April 2 Read: Deuteronomy 6:5-9

CIRCLE OF FAITHMy mother was always very involved in our church as I was growing up.I can remember going to all the potlucks, choral concerts and commit-tee meetings as well as church service (front pew!) every single Sunday.

As a child observing this, I never said to myself that this is the way Iwant to be. But it is the way I am. And it seems natural. My motherwas a single parent, worked full time and took care of my sister and me

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Thursday, April 3 Read: Matthew 6:14-15

LEARNING TO FORGIVEWe moved around a lot when I was growing up. Every year or two, wemoved to a new city, and I went to a new school. Although I buriedthe fears related to moving, as I look back now, I realize I was oftenlonely. The worst move came in November of my senior year in highschool. We had been in a suburb of Kansas City for a blissful two years.I was in a nice school, I had some friends and I was in love. We movedto the outskirts of Chicago, where I went to a not-very-nice school. Ithink it was before gangs, as we know them now, but I remembergroups of guys with slicked-back hair and cigarettes rolled into theirundershirt sleeves hanging around looking threatening. It was too latein the year for me to get into the college prep classes I would normallyhave been in, and I was in a bunch of classes like typing and health.

I realize now that I resented my dad making all those moves, especiallythat last one. I felt like my needs weren’t important to him. A few

(as well as her ailing mother), but she had time for the church. Peopleask me how I can work full time, have two young children and a hus-band, and remain so active in the church. But how can I not? This isthe circle of faith that wasstarted many years ago andis what keeps the churchalive. This is what it meansto be in service to God, andI am grateful to be able todo it.

I look back, and I can see that the church was my second home andgave me support during my most influential years. I’m dedicated toserving in appreciation for this and in anticipation for my children thatthey too will feel the same. To be sure future generations are in serviceto God and the church is to show, by example, as Jesus did while onearth. Jesus showed the light and the way.

I hope and pray I am able to serve for many years to come. And now Ismile when I see my daughter’s hand raise as she volunteers at church. Ican begin to visualize yet another circle of faith.

— Jane Euler

TODAY: Change the dinnertimeroutine. For grace, go around thetable and let each person — childrentoo — spend a moment giving thanksfor one thing that happened today.

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Friday, April 4 Read: Proverbs 16:33

MUSTAFAH’S FIRST PRAYER

years ago when I did a guided meditation on forgiveness, I recognizedhow much anger at my father I was carrying around. I could feel it inmy chest like a lump of ice. I didn’t see how I could ever forgive him.But I prayed to be able to.

Not long afterward, we visited my dad in Corpus Christi. When thevisit was over, we were driving to the airport. I was in the back seat,Corky was driving and Dad was in the passenger seat. He startedtelling Corky about the time he was fired and he had left the family inKansas City while he traveled around the country looking for a job. Hehad eventually been rehired by the same company, but only if wewould move to Chicago. I suddenly realized that he was talking aboutthat awful move in November of my senior year. But I didn’t knowhe’d been fired! Did they not tell me? Or was I so wrapped up in myown misery that I blocked it out? I don’t know. But I suddenly had aglimpse of how it all looked from his point of view — what the respon-sibility of feeding a family of five must be like.

As we flew off on the plane, Irealized God had given me a wayto begin the forgiveness, as I hadasked. And I discovered my ownneed for forgiveness, too. I couldfeel the lump of anger starting to melt, and I cried and cried. Youwould think I would be glad to be rid of that lump, but it was a littlescary. Who would I be without it?

I continue to find ways to forgive my father and (even harder) to for-give myself. But at least I know now that it is possible — with help.Thanks be to God.

— Nancy Searls

We were in the 24th week of our “Christian Believer” study, and thetopic was “Living the Christian Life.” The focus word for the week:Discipleship. Finally, time to stop discussing all this doctrine of thefaith and put my beliefs into action, I thought! Then, as I did the read-ing in preparation for class, I began to stumble. As a Christian disciple,I was being called to a heroic standard of living, one beyond ordinary

TODAY: Try giving up bit-terness for Lent. See if itdoesn’t change your outlook.

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human abilities. How in the world could I live up to the expectationsof my Lord? The final workbook exercise for the week was to readMustafah’s prayer and then to write our own version of the prayer.

Mustafah wrote: “O God, I am Mustafah the tailor and I work at theshop of Muhammad Ali. The whole day long I sit and pull the needleand the thread through the cloth. O God, you are the needle and I amthe thread. I am attached to you and I follow you. When the threadtries to slip away from the needle it becomes tangled and must be cutso that it can be put back in the right place. O God, help me to followyou wherever you may lead me. For I am really only Mustafah the tai-lor, and I work at the shop of Muhammad Ali on the great square.”

—A Muslim’s First Prayer as a Christian

Here was a man whose “lot was cast” literally into his lap, as there liesthe work of a tailor. Here was an ordinary man, living and working in aMuslim community, yet settled inthe expectations of our ChristianLord. Inspired, but tentative, Iwrote:

“O God, I am Wendy, the mother,and I work at a home in a community full of idols, materialism and norest. All day I struggle to get my family to their lessons, practices andplay dates and do my chores so that they will have clean clothes andthe things they need. O God, you are what they need. You providethe gifts that give them joy as they play. I am the voice and the con-duit which helps them to find and know you. When schedules and carpools are crazy, uniforms dirty and I can’t get to everybody’s game; Ineed to drop back, re-group and become realistic about what I can doand should be for them. O God, help me to follow you wherever youmay lead me. For I am really only Wendy, the mom, and I work at homein Oak Hill, Virginia.”

—A Mother’s Prayer as a Christian Believer

We are all always in the process of becoming what we ought to be.Our lot may be cast, but His expectation is simply that we trust thatevery decision is His. Very fortunately, for Mustafah and for me, Heworks with what's available.

— Wendy LeBoltDedicated to Chip and Rebecca Taylor and their loving service to The Church of the Good Shepherd.

TODAY: Spend a momentconsidering Mustafah’s prayerand write your own prayer.

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Saturday, April 5 Read: Psalm 118:24

REJOICE AND BE GLAD IN ITHanging on the wall in my mother’s kitchen was a framed square shehad embroidered as a child: “This is the day that the Lord has made; letus rejoice and be glad in it.” The piece greeted us each morning as wecame down to breakfast, to start a new day and blessed us eachevening as we gathered for supper together. Over the years, itpresided over many happy conversations about plans and dreams andgatherings with friends, weddings and births.

It was a silent sentinel during the harder times as well. My father wasin Vietnam in 1956, and my mother stayed behind with us four childrenwhile he was gone. We moved many times, packing up, unpacking,resettling yet again. There were the rebellious, moody teenagersstorming about, heated discussions that flamed into arguments. Anddays of grief when loved ones died. The reminder still hung over us onthe wall, “This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and beglad in it.”

Now I have a homeof my own, withgrown childrenmoving on to livetheir own lives. Ioften remember that Psalm I grew up with. When the sun rises on afresh spring morning, or when I am surrounded by the strength andgrandeur of the mountains, or catch an evening sunset that takes mybreath away, it is easy for me to rejoice and be glad in it. Yes, this is theday that the Lord has made!

Sometimes it is harder to remember: on days when life is not goingwell, when the news is bleak or frightening, when the unknown is darkand threatening. One son is in the Army, and as I write this, I wonderwhere he will be when I read the Lenten Devotional. But here in thisPsalm is wonderful reassurance that God is in control, that God is overand above and through all with us. This focus on gratitude keeps mylife in perspective. God is love and will provide care and guidancethrough all of our days.

It is easy for me to get caught up in the daily schedule of life, the end-less list of things that must be done. I have to remember to pause, to

TODAY: Take time to look back over thepast 24 hours. How were your Christian beliefsand standards challenged? How did yourespond? How should you have responded?

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In June of 2001, only a few weeks before I was to leave with the LakotaMission team for Pine Ridge, S.D., I became quite ill. For a time, doc-tors debated whether I could still make the trip. But soon, with dan-gerously abnormal blood counts and with increasing pain, it was evi-dent that I would not be able to go on the mission.

On the very day that the team was flying west, I was in the first oftwo surgeries to correct what ailed me. For the 14 days the team wasaway, I spent much of my time recuperating on the sofa of our familyroom. I had few distractions. My eyes couldn’t handle reading, or evenwatching television. And all those projects that have awaited me allthese years — little projects like photo albums and BIG projects likewriting a book — were too much to tackle with my lingering pain andvastly reduced energy.

And so, I was quiet on the sofa. Irested. However, in the quiet, Ibecame aware of the chirp of abird. Investigating, I saw a femalecardinal nested in the rhododendron bush just outside the window ofthe family room. For the next 14 days, the entire time the team wasaway, she sang and sat there. July of 2001 was perhaps the wettestever — it rained and rained. But “my” cardinal stayed put, a constantcompanion. She was my cheer-er. She was my connection to theLakota team and those who were praying so earnestly for me. Shewas my visible sign of the invisible presence of Jesus — companioningme through harder times, grounding me in all for which I am thankful.

Sunday, April 6 Read: Ephesians 1:7

A SPECIAL COMPANION

TODAY: Take a walk in thebackyard and strike up a friend-ship with one of God’s creatures.

take the time to “Rejoice and be glad in it”; to worship and praise thisultimate power of Life, great Creator of all. Then the nagging worriesof the day slip further away, and what seems unbearable becomesbearable. Then I can see my own life in a different light. I am not incontrol of everything, and I do not need to be. There is a powerstronger and wiser than I am that is eternal and everlasting. My task isto learn to love as God loves and to live as God would have me live,and to know that, indeed, “This is the day that the Lord has made,”and to rejoice and be glad in it.

— Susan Shearouse

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The last members of the Lakota team returned by church van onSunday night, July 8. When I arose Monday morning, my cardinal hadgone. There were no signs of eggs, or of babies. She came and stayedfor just the time I needed her most.

Ephesians says that in Him we find redemption and forgiveness andgrace. And how He companions us in the process!

— Marilyn Dukes Bursch

Monday, April 7 Read: Isaiah 43:2

HAPPY BIRTHDAY,PATRICKToday is my son Patrick’s third birthday. Several years ago, not longafter Patrick’s birth, my family went through a major life experiencewhere we truly felt the power of the message expressed in the Bookof Isaiah.

At Patrick’s 2-week pediatriccheckup, my wife Kathy and Idiscovered that our son suf-fered from a rare conditioncalled craniosynostosis, meaning that part of his skull had prematurelyfused together. Patrick’s condition needed to be corrected by surgery— relatively quickly — or his brain would not have had room to growproperly. Shortly after receiving the news, we met with a local plasticsurgeon. He came very highly recommended by one of Kathy’s col-leagues whose daughter had been treated by him for the same type ofcondition. The doctor, a nationally known cranio-facial specialist, hadcorrected children with Patrick’s type of problem numerous times. Weliked the surgeon immediately. He was an extremely warm man whogave us great confidence that Patrick would be fine.

After Patrick turned 3 months old, and was deemed large enough towithstand the rigors of surgery, he had his operation at FairfaxHospital. The complex surgery — performed by the plastic surgeon aswell as a neurosurgeon — lasted more than four hours. Patrick was inthe hospital for almost a week. The surgery was very successful, andtoday Patrick is a healthy and gregarious 3-year-old.

Needless to say, Kathy and I were elated and relieved by the outcomeof Patrick’s surgery. We also know that God’s guiding and comforting

TODAY: Hold the hand of someoneyou love and tell them of your love.Then tell them again. And once again.

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hand was with us along the way. Some exam-ples:

* We could not have been happier with Patrick’s medical care. Given the rare nature of his con-dition, we had been prepared to travel to locate the best specialist and care. How did we locate our doctors? Kathy happened to recall a conversation that she had overheard months earlier. During that conversation, one of Kathy’s colleagues had mentioned to someone else that her daughter had been treated for craniosynostosis. Kathy followed up and discovered that the specialist was now in the Washington area and operating at Fairfax Hospital. Moreover, Kathy’s colleague had become friends with this doctor and was able to help ensure that we could see him quickly.

* After surgery, Patrick started bleeding just as we arrived in the Intensive Care Unit. He needed immediate help. We were told that his surgeon had left the hospital. At that very moment, however, the doctor unexpectedly walked into the ICU and was able to take care of the problem quickly.

* We had incredible support from our families, friends and community at The Church of the Good Shepherd. My sister visited from Texas for a week and helped watch after our then 18-month-old son Jack. Kathy’s two sisters also were available to help with every need. Kathy and I still fondly recall pastor Jim Noland joining us to pray at Patrick’s bedside in the recovery room immediately after the surgery. Jim was still bleary-eyed after (literally) just returning from the Lakota mission trip in South Dakota. Jim came back to check on us several times during the week. And because Patrick was on the con-gregational prayer list, we knew that many in the church community were praying for us.

Throughout our entire ordeal, Kathy and I knew that God was with us.— Jim Lovelace

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Tuesday, April 8 Read: Psalm 139, Luke 10:29-37

THE GIFT OF AN IDEAThis year the church had a new outreach project for children. Booksthat were purchased would be recorded on tape by the donor. Thisenabled the children to practice reading a book while listening to thesame book on tape. This project gave our family an additional gift.While Dave and I recorded our books, we decided to make copies forour grandchildren who live in Kentucky and Delaware. The distancehas made it more difficult to share our love of reading on a regularbasis. How would these Christmas gifts be received by the grandchil-dren we love?

One Sunday inDecember wearrived inDelaware tocelebrateChristmastogether. Thistime with ourfamily is alwaysa joy, especially because our son, Brad, was able to go with us. Timewas spent opening the “things” that are a part of Christmas. ThenCaitlin and Amanda took my hand to go upstairs to their room. Afterdolls were dressed, they wanted to hear the tapes and look at thebooks. Time was spent listening to/reading The Runaway Bunny. Thenwe talked about how much the mommy loved the little bunny andeven if he wanted to run away, he could never get away from hismother’s love.

This story reminds me of Psalm 139 that teaches us that God knowseverything about us, and his love will always be with us wherever wego. While listening/reading The Little Engine that Could, I thoughtabout other stories of the Bible. The story of the Good Samaritanentered my mind. In both, there is a need for help that is not given bythose with experience or position — strong engines or Levites. Thehelp comes from the one who is willing to try, hears a call to help, is acaregiver and thinks about the other instead of himself.

Caitlin and Amanda then interviewed me about narrating the book.Their questions gave me the opportunity to explain the service proj-

TODAY: Help us listen to children and takeopportunities to share God’s unconditional love.Remember an experience when your help camefrom an unlikely place or person. Today let’sthank God for children and for those who haveloved us when we most needed it. Pray that Godwill open our eyes and heart to see where there isa need and empower us to answer God’s call.

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Wednesday, April 9 Read: Psalm 100

THE JOY OF SINGINGThe Bible makes many references to praising God in song and sound:“Make a joyful noise to the Lord” (Psalm 100:1); “O sing to the Lord aNew Song” (Psalm 96:1); “And David danced before the Lord with allhis might” (2 Samuel 4); “And all the trees of the fields will clap theirhands” (Isaiah 55:2); “And day and night they never ceased to sing, holy,holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty” (Revelation 4:8).

Many years ago on a warmspring day my teenage son and Iwere sitting in the living roomtalking. The sliding glass doorsto the third-floor balcony wereopen, the sun was pouring intothe room, and the cats werestretched out beside the screen soaking up the sun. The radio wasplaying a classical piece (possibly Bach or Mozart) that was verymelodic — at least to me it was, maybe even to my son. There areseveral small miracles in this snapshot of time: 1) My son and I weretalking; 2) No one was objecting to my choice of music; 3) The catshad decided to grace us with their presence in a calm and peacefulmanner; and 4) The room was full of warm sunlight and the fragrancesof spring.

Suddenly a small brown bird landed on the railing. He fluffed his feath-ers, cocked his head as if he were listening to the music, lifted his beakto the sky, and from his tiny throat poured forth the most glorious

TODAY: Savor the work of aservant of God. Listen to Bach’sSt. Matthew’s Passion. Parts of itare very familiar. Don’t be afraidto join the chorus.

ect and talk about reaching out to others. They asked wonderfulquestions about favorite parts of the book, how it made me feel, howthe characters felt. It was an incredible gift to have the time to expe-rience their imagination, thoughtfulness and caring. A little seed wasplanted that related the lessons and values of the books to songs andparables in the Bible. One that can be reinforced.

Let us look for ways to incorporate our faith into our daily lives andthose of the people in our circle of care. God bless all children every-where.

— Carole Yoho

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song. The notes blended well with the piece that was playing. For afew minutes, we were treated to a concert of pure joy and praise.Then the music came to an end, the little bird drew out his last note,bobbed his head a few times as if to acknowledge some ovation thatwe were unable to hear and soared off to bring his joy elsewhere.

No one moved. Not me, not my son, not even the cats. Neither myson nor I said anything. The moment was too magical to comment on.But when the winter in my heart needs to be reminded that spring willcome, I go back to that moment in time when the little bird taught usthe joy of singing. And I, too, find that pouring out my “song” fills theair around me with sunshine and praise.

— Faith FislerFriend of Good Shepherd

Thursday, April 10 Read: John 4:7-15

THE LIVING WATER OF LIFEI am the — not so young anymore — Samaritan woman.

Looking back, a few years ago, I would have never imagined my lifeending up here in Reston, Va., surrounded by such a strong network ofloving people. I am that Samaritan. Knowing my background of pover-ty and sin, I saw myself as not part of the same world you may havegrown up in. I had a different life, a life filled with depression and pain.And as I watched the rest of theworld, I saw happiness that I hadnever had. I felt unworthy of agood, honest life.

God knocked on my door for many years offering me the living water,but I felt too ashamed to take it. Finally, as many of us have, I got to atime in my life where I could not do it on my own. After many failedattempts, I learned to “Let Go and Let God” take over my life.

Today, there is no power struggle. I am more than happy to say, “HereGod, you take it.” Regrets? There are plenty! I watch my kids andwish I had been able to enjoy them as babies. But there’s no time tomake up the past. So now I must do all I can to enjoy every minute Ihave left of their childhood.

TODAY: Say hello and have aconversation with a stranger.

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Friday, April 11 Read: Romans 6:23

NO STRINGS ATTACHED

We may have given The Church of the Good Shepherd a small drink ofSamaritan water. What we got in return will last a lifetime — and thensome.

I am no longer thirsty, for I have tasted the living water of life. Thanksbe to God and all who follow His Word. Peace be with you!! AMEN!

— April Frazier Simmons

You’ve probably been on the receiving end of personalized mailingsthat offer prize packages such as a weekend getaway at a ski resort“ABSOLUTELY FREE.” Assuming that you bother reading through thistype of correspondence, your first thought might be, “Yeah, right.What’s the catch?”

By the time wereach adulthood,most of us havebeen conditionedto be wary of giftsand favors that are bestowed on us unexpectedly. Often we view thegiver’s motives with a degree of cynicism because, after all, there’s nosuch thing as a free lunch.

It would be quite easy to view God’s promise of eternal life skeptically.We have never had to go out into the world and work for it. At times,we may even doubt that we deserve this gift. Yet it comes to us.And, what’s more, it comes without a catch.

Paul’s message to the Romans remind us that, as believers, we havebeen freed from servitude that, at best, earns us fleeting or temporaryrewards. Instead of being enslaved by worldly masters, we are free toembrace the miraculous gift that God has bestowed upon us. Wedon’t have to earn or even request this gift. We only need to believe— and receive.

The spirit of penitence associated with Lent encourages us to turnfrom the ways of the world and to reflect on the sorrowful image ofChrist’s crucifixion. But there is hope. Yes, Christ died on the cross,

TODAY: Be an encourager today. Make aspecial effort to salute a job well done, tooffer support for someone facing a challengeor a test, to say a kind word or do a good deed.

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but his resurrection paved the way for our own journey through sin,darkness and death into salvation, light and life.

What greater gift have we been offered than the promise of eternallife in Christ Jesus? The beauty of salvation is that it is indeed a freegift, one that comes without strings.

— Alice Ross

Saturday, April 12 Read: 2 Corinthians 5:17

ONE MORE CHANCE“Please Give Me One More Last Chance” is the title and refrain for acountry and western song popular a few years ago. The irony of thetitle is self evident — makes you wonder how many previous lastchances the writer has already had. Starting over, turning around,beginning again and conversion are frequent themes in the Bible. Asyou read more closely, or at adistance, the reader will seethat many times there are mul-tiple restarts.

A friend of mine makes a habitof reading through the Bibleeach year — using a differenttranslation each year. I askedhim what new insights his disci-pline had brought. He said that the major story of the Old Testamentis how often the Israelites, God’s chosen people, found themselvesmoving back and forth between obedience and open disobedience.

Starting over, especially in the spiritual life, your only option. If we areto learn and grow, we are called to begin again at various times. Jesuswas especially tuned in to this inexplicable cycle as he called his follow-ers to account and then embraced them as they made yet anothermistake and then a faltering restart. Simon Peter was a case in point.His supreme act of starting over is described in today’s devotion. Somany of the characters in the Bible had multiple restarts that for acharacter to not have experienced at least one restart is a rare excep-tion.

What does starting over spiritually mean to us today? No matter

TODAY: Give yourself anotherchance by renewing a friendship.Pick up the phone, write a letter oran e-mail to someone you’ve grownaway from. Go out of your way toput that distance or that spat orthat dispute in the past.

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what our level of knowledge or service or spiritual maturity may be,Jesus keeps calling us to new beginnings with him. Why? Perhaps it isbecause if we think we know a lot, then there is no room for the newknowledge or insight that we might otherwise embrace. Perhaps ourpride, apathy or fear keeps us from answering the call to a new start.Starting over is a very Methodist notion often referred to as the callto conversion. Conversion is a simple notion: I find myself heading

down one path and realize I sim-ply must change course, oftendrastically, and often at the costof giving up some or most of theworldly progress on my presentcourse. I once heard aMethodist preacher fromOklahoma say he had been con-verted a thousand times. At thetime, his confession shocked me.Today, however, I may be on theverge of breaking his record.

There is a danger inherent in allof this new beginning business:the possibility that we take thegrace of God for granted. We aretempted to rely on God’s graceas an excuse for our disobedi-ence and lack of faith, knowing

that, no matter what, God will take us in. This is dangerous theologyand worse, a recipe for a duplicitous and unsatisfying life. Our newbeginnings must be genuine — it is clear that God can tell the differ-ence between a sham and earnest repentance. God's grace is notcheap.

Some refer to grace as God’s unmerited favor. I once told a pastoralcounselor that I wanted to completely understand grace. He pausedfor a moment and said, “Joe, I hope you never understand grace.” Andhe was right of course. I did do a lot of reading, and in the end, Ireached a simple conclusion. Some gifts are just as free and necessaryand refreshing as the air we breathe. To understand would notenhance the effect or make us more prepared to offer our thanks.And all we have to do today and any day is to accept God’s grace withan open and clear heart. Again.

— Joe Matney

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Palm Sunday, April 13 Read: Psalm 32

A TEACHER IN THE PROCESSIONThis is a day for parades. Imagining the procession of palm-wavingChristians who welcomed Jesus and his ragtag army into Jerusalem onPalm Sunday, we have often wondered how we would have respondedat the sight of the cheering, curious throng. Would we have watchedthe parade pass by, or would we have joined it? And what sort ofmarchers would we have been?

Happily, our procession of faith includes a dear friend, Sue Cooke, whocertainly would have been part of the parade. Quietly, but ferventlyand resolutely.

We’ve known her for nearly 25 years asmembers of the same Methodist church,once in Boston and later on Long Island.We have worked together, cookedtogether, prayed together, traveledtogether, laughed and cried together.Actually, not cried that much; because, whenever that option pre-sented itself, Sue always insisted that we laugh.

For the past two years, Sue has battled a cancer of the most aggressiveform that has required more than a dozen operations. She has lost aneye, her sense of smell and faced endless crises. For much of the pastyear, her surgeon’s prayer each Sunday has been that he never have tooperate on Sue Cooke again. But Sue ignored the odds. Her outlookremained forward, her attitude positive and her determination unflag-ging. Days after her first operation, she joined friends on safari inTanzania. In the past two years, she has traveled for reunions inBoston, Vermont, the Berkshires, Virginia, Delaware and Atlanta.

In the process, she has become a traveling tutorial — this serious, quietand tireless worker has become a teacher. We’ve learned the impor-tance of making the most of time together and of finding new ways toreach out when we’re not. We’ve phoned, written cards and letters —even a book. We’ve learned to take time to say thank you. We havelearned the importance of humor. (At one meal, her husband offered aprayer of gratitude for the magical cure of laughter.) A recent reunion

TODAY: Rememberthe words of St. Francisof Assisi: “Preach theGospel at all times —use words if necessary.”

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was billed as a time to laugh and cry with Sue and her friends. Suewould have none of that. Laughter was the only choice, and indeedafter the weekend, one of the women complained that it was herlaughing muscles that hurt.

Through this, Sue retained her focus — on others more than herself.Even as the prognosis became ever more grim. She has helped herfriends address the classic conundrum of how we reconcile bad thingshappening to such exquisitely good people.

Several weeks ago, after receiving another glum forecast, she was ridingwith a friend and discussing her grim outlook. “Why me?” she asked.Then before waiting for an answer, she continued her pondering. Thenshe answered her own question: “Why not me?”

Sue has become a model, a teacher and an inspiration for our ownmarch by the way she followed the instructive words of the Psalmist:“Steadfast love surrounds those who trust in the Lord. Be glad in theLord, O Righteous. Shout for joy, all you upright in heart.” How luckywe are to march with people like Sue Cooke. How important it is totry to live with the questions she has raised at her moment of trial.Why me? Why not me?

— Haydee and Jim Toedtman

Monday, April 14 Read: 2 Chronicles 6:30-31

FAMILY THROUGH FAITHMany of us experience the toils of blending families, of stepparentsand step-siblings, half-siblings and half-parents. Knowing what thismeans and what really matters can be so hard as we wade through ourday-to-day relations. Recently, God shared with me that love and faithin Him prevails over law and convention.

My first marriage was to a man and his three children. We struggled aswe tried to be a family — I wasn’t their mom, as their mom wanted tobe their mom, although she lived far away. I was their Mary Ellen, andwe were comfortable with that. I did the best I could as their full-time caregiver. To the older boys, I was a buddy and life organizer andperiodic girlfriend adviser. To the young and wounded daughter, I wasa guardian in the true sense of the word, a friend, a teacher, and unfor-tunately, at times, I was her adversary and rival.

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I was there for her as best I could be. I loved her through it all, and weshared the good and hard times, the girl moments and the inevitabledifficulties and struggles of our life decisions. I tried to show her shewas loved as best I could in a most imperfect way, and she watched metoil with life in ways I did not even know. Her eyes and memory wereyoung and bright, and I know now they served her well.

She accompanied me through my pregnancy of her half brother anddown the road of motherhood. She liked this, I knew, and she was anatural caregiver herself. Andthen before we knew it, I wasgone, as her mom had done, too.And she was alone again. Andthere was silence.

Four and a half years have passedsince I left her side. I have remar-ried and am blending families yetagain, and she has mothered achild at the age of 18 and is nowmarried as well. Recently, Godbrought us together again andgave to us the most beautifulgift. It was as though we werenever apart, although our liveshad changed completely. Weshared a comfort that we hadforgotten existed . . . and maybe it hadn’t existed prior to this. Shehad become a woman and an exemplary mother. I was so proud of her.

When we said good-bye, I believe we both felt the anguish of our four-year separation. The time that had passed so quickly and quietly wasthere so painfully present after just one week of being together. Asshe left, I hugged her tight and told her how very proud of her I was;she was doing a great job, and she’d find strength to continue. Sheturned to me as if without knowing what she said herself. “I learned itall from you. YOU are my mother too and my friend forever.” I realizedthen that love and expressing our faith in Him also can create a family.Who says we only get one mom or dad in this life? Certainly not theGod I know.

-- Mary Ellen Flather

TODAY: Consider this sign onthe front door of St. Stephen’schurch in London: “O God, makethe door of this house wideenough to receive all who needhuman love and fellowship, nar-row enough to shut out envy,pride and strife. Make its thresh-old smooth enough to be nostumbling block to children, norto straying feet, but rugged andstrong enough to turn back thetempter's power. God, make thedoor of this house the gatewayto Thine eternal Kingdom.”

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Tuesday, April 15 Read: Matthew 28:19-20

TAX DAY AND BIRTHDAYToday is a very special day for me. It has nothing todo with that day that is most feared by those whopursue the art of procrastination. It is because this isthe birthday of my brother Jay, born six weeks prema-turely in a Washington, D.C., hospital.

One might say that his early arrival was a portent ofhis drive in life, leaving the safety and security of thewomb for the challenges of an exposed life. Jay strug-gled in an incubator for weeks before he could comehome to meet his big brother. As brothers, we wereblessed with many gifts from our parents: the love ofmusic from our mother, from our father the ability torepair anything that didn’t work, and a questionableblessing, another brother, Gil.

Jay went to college with the intention of being achemist, then changed to psychology and finally toreligion. All the time, he was hearing a call, but thedirection was not what he wanted to hear. I wasmore fortunate, because my calling as a teacher wasclear and already manifest in a junior high school sci-ence class.

Jay spent a summer in New Orleans in an inner-citywork project, and somewhere along the way, heanswered the call to serve God in the ministry. Thenext challenge was to convince his fiancée Harriettto share that journey with him. I watched themmarry and move to Boston, then return three yearslater as an ordained rookie in the Virginia Conference.

Each assignment that Jay was given was one that Iknew only Jay could complete, and I watched withpride and amazement as he moved from church tochurch. There is a spirit in my brother that knows nolimit, a commitment for service that cannot be

quenched and a compassion for people that comes from the heart ofGod. His arrival at The Church of the Good Shepherd was quiet, but

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each time I came to visit, it was clear that Jay was ministering to thecommunity in a way that brought people together to worship andserve God in a new and meaningful way.Jay continues to answer the call thatJesus issued to His disciples, to bring thegood news of the resurrection to allpeople. We must follow Jay’s example.

Perhaps my greatest blessing was to be amember of the congregation for his final two years of service to GoodShepherd. An even greater blessing was to have him return to conductmy marriage to the woman of my dreams.

By the way, Happy Birthday, Jay. You are loved.Your brother, Myron.

— Myron Hanke

TODAY: Write a letterof thanks and praise to abrother or sister or specialchildhood friend.

Wednesday, April 16 Read: 1 Corinthians 3:16-18

WHAT BRINGS US TOGETHERNot too long ago, our Junior High Sunday school class watched a fasci-nating episode of “Touched by an Angel.” The story featured youthfrom Northern Ireland who come to America on a mission project todiscover what life away from the tensions between Catholic andProtestant is like. The kids in my class were surprised to know thatthese hostilities existed. They could hardly imagine why they would.Because, happily, they have been reared in an atmosphere that preach-es Christian unity and in a place where we look at what brings ustogether . . . not what sets us apart. This foundation sets the stage forthe generation to come.

The year before my birth, my grandfather refused to attend my par-ents’ wedding. A staunch Methodist, he could not bear my mother’srecent conversion to Catholicism and stood righteously off to the side— withholding his approval and evidently his love in order to make hispoint. It broke my mother's heart. Needlessly.

Her conversion had been a real calling, not just a requirement to marrymy father — the son of equally staunch Catholics. My heritage andcalling has been to that same lively faith, where I am nurtured in themysteries and sacraments of an ancient church. And yet, Michael and

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I, along with our four children, havedrawn deeply from the communityof The Church of the GoodShepherd in which we have beenmembers for more than 10 years.When people ask how or why thishappened, I have a number ofanswers.

We prefer the benefits of a smallchurch. I love the scripture studyand the thoughtful sermons. I amattracted to all the mission workour church does. But really, thehonest answer, beyond these thingsis, I truly don’t know.

Perhaps this bi/denominationalwalk is God’s way of healing a bro-kenness found in my particular fam-ily. If this is so, then I look to thefuture with tremendous pride and

hope. Because my children and my students understand something mygrandparents could not; Jesus Christ is our foundation, our way, ourlight. It is to that light we must continually turn our face. God will callus to himself perfectly. We need only stop to look and quiet ourselvesto listen. And then respond, each in our own way.

These lovely children, yours and mine, are the flame of a future fire.Perhaps, God’s intention for them is to bring about a more universalhealing where ALL religious hostilities are unknown and unimaginable.May God bless them greatly.

— Marey Oakes

TODAY: Our Lakota Team shares this advice from CharmaineWhite Face of the Oglala Lakota: “One of our old, old holy mensaid, ‘Every step you take on earth should be a prayer. The powerof a pure and good soul is in every person’s heart and will grow asyou walk in a sacred manner. And if every step is a prayer, then youwill always be walking in a sacred manner.’”

Vanessa Oakes

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Maundy Thursday, April 17 Read: John 13:17

LORD,MAKE ME A SERVANTJesus washed Judas’ feet.

Judas was to betray Him. Jesus in fact knew that Judas had alreadybetrayed him. But on His last night on earth, when the Lord madeHimself the lowest servant, He washed Judas’ feet.

It is easy to love and serve those who love us, those who look like usand worship like us. But how do we serve those who are different?How do we serve those who hate us and would destroy our very lives?Can we be like Jesus and servethem just as we serve thosewhom we love?

On Jesus’ last night on earth, Hecelebrated a Passover Feast. HisJewish disciples recounted andcelebrated the deliverance oftheir ancestors from Egypt by thehand of God. They had no ideathat in three days they wouldagain receive deliverance by thehand of God. This time, however,it would be deliverance fromcondemnation, and it would beforever.

Forever. Once we take it, oncewe ask Jesus to wash us, our “feet, our hands and head as well,” weknow the truth, and are blessed by it. Knowing that, how can we notwash the feet of those who don’t?

— Melanie Snyder

TODAY: Find a map ofJerusalem. Locate the placeswhere Jesus spent these criticallast days. Try to visualize whatthe city was like 2,000 yearsago. How would you haveresponded to the spectacle ofthis teacher leading his follow-ers through the bustle? Howwould you have respondedwhen you saw Jesus washingthe feet of his disciples? Takesome time to contemplatehow you should spend today.

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Good Friday, April 18 Read: Philippians 2:5-8

WHAT HANGS ON THE CROSSWhen I was a child, my family lived in Europe. We were a missionaryfamily, and so when we traveled, much of our sightseeing centered onchurches and other religious sites. During these excursions, I was fre-quently frightened by the depictions of the crucifixions. There was anendless parade of graphic interpretations of this torturous form ofdeath — of Jesus bruised and bloody. Because these images depictedin paint or stone or wood were often displayed in the most beautifulchurches imaginable, the terrible quality of what they showed washighlighted. In my child’s mind, I was scared of the nature of an adultworld that would apply such artistry to create such graphic images andthen put them in such beautiful places.

Twenty years after these childhoodexperiences, I had occasion to revisitthe idea of the crucifix. A controversybroke out at Georgetown Universityregarding the presence of crosses in theclassrooms, and I attended an eveningof lectures set up by the university onthe subject. One of the speakers was apriest, who described his meditation on the Isenheim Altarpiece, aparticularly gruesome medieval image of Jesus on the cross. In thispainting, the Messiah’s body appears diseased as well as bearing theusual wounds on head, back, hands, side and feet.

The priest echoed my childhood sentiments when he opened his lec-ture by stating that his first feeling about this painting image was thatit was a desecration. But his research revealed that the artist paintedthis image for the hospital at Isenheim that attended to victims of theplague, leprosy and infectious illnesses. Such would be the composi-tion of most of the worshippers looking at the painting during dailyMass. Those worshippers who were healthy in body would, moreoften than not, either be there praying for a sick loved one or wouldbe dedicated to serving the sick.

The priest came to understand that, far from being a debased image,this masterpiece would be a blessing and a miracle of hope for such

TODAY: Pray the 16th-century English prayer ofSt. Thomas More: “Thethings, Good Lord, wepray for, give us the graceto labor for.”

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people, healthy and sick alike. He came to understand that his firstreaction of revulsion was both very human, but exactly the oppositeof what Jesus had done when he came to walk among us. Jesus willinglyapproached our suffering and participated in it to its fullest extent, tothe point of accepting an unmerited death by a particularly awfulform of execution.

So as we think about the crucifixion today, we should not avert ourminds from what exactly happened. Hanging on the cross is a torturedand anguished human being. And also on that cross is the Son of theGod whom Jesus called his Father and taught us to call Father as well.We all suffer in this world and sometimes cause others to suffer.

If we have the courage to keep our eyes on the reality of the cross, wewill see something else beyond the great evil that humankind caninflict. We will see on that cross love and hope and the eternal offerof companionship with God. On that cross is the Son of God, whowillingly came to live among us as one of us and to share with us allaspects of our lives, including anguish and death. Hanging on that crossis our hope for salvation, redemption and new life. We should look hardat what happened on the cross and cling to it.

— Ursula Wilder

Saturday, April 19 Read: 2 Corinthians 4:18

ETERNITYI was in the fifth grade in October 1961. We were in the midst of theCuban Missile Crisis. It was terrifying … the possibility of a nuclear warwith Russia was quite real, and most kids I knew were really scared.Weekly "air-raid" drills at school, frequent tests of the emergencybroadcast system, advertisements for bomb shelters … all served toremind us that a horrible war might come anytime. Every time I heardthe fire department's siren, I wondered whether the end would comein the next 30 minutes.

My bedtime ritual was to say a prayer: “Now I lay me down to sleep . . .if I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.” I endedthe prayer to God with a request that He bless all of my family andfriends. I would name of each one in hopes that they too would joinme in Heaven. After the crisis — the prayer took on new meaning.For the next two years, I went to bed each and every night thinking

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that tomorrow might not come. I realize now that my faith that Godwould take my soul to heaven was a powerful antidote to the fearsthat filled my head.

Now 40 years have passed, and we find ourselves in the midst of a newcrisis . . . a crisis involving even more terrible weapons of mass destruc-tion. Increasingly, we are consumed by questions of what tomorrowwill bring. Uncertainty, anxiety, despair and, for some, hopelessness.We search for glimmers of hope in the words and deeds of our parents,our friends, our leaders and our pastors. We fixate on the uncertainfuture, when we should be livingin the moment. We look to oth-ers for hope when the answer lieswithin . . . in strengthening ourfaith . . . in opening our lives toGod’s love.

I’ve heard the Call. I need toactively help my three sonsunderstand that God’s promiseof eternal life is the answer. Ineed to help strengthen theirfaith to fend off the monstersthat live under their beds … fearand anxiety. I need to help them learn what I learned 40 years ago . . .that talking with God each night can change their lives forever.

— Chuck Appleby

TODAY: Ponder these wordsof writer James Agee: “In everychild who is born under no mat-ter what circumstances and ofno matter what parents, thepotentiality of the human race isborn again. [So to in each of us isborn] our terrific responsibilitytoward human life: toward theutmost idea of goodness, of thehorror of terrorism, and of God.”

Mikaela Walker

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Easter Sunday, April 20 Read: Hebrews 12:2

LOOK UPON JESUSWhen I was about 5 years old, my father told me that if I were very,very good, I would get to see Jesus, or perhaps an angel. I rememberasking him how he knew, and he told me the Bible said so. I asked him ifhe had ever seen an angel, and he said, no, but when he was a boy, hehad heard of some people who had seen one.

I’m not sure exactly why that moment has stayed with me so long — Ididn’t exactly take my father’s admonition to heart. And I, too, havenever seen an angel, at least not one I recognized.

But somehow, I know they’re there. Too many times, I have seen thingsthat simply defy explanation. A man, hopelessly late for a plane to takehim to a dying relative’s bedside, arrives to find the plane still at thegate with no obvious reason for the delay. A father calls off a trip forhis young daughter, about to leave on vacation with her grandparentsto visit her great-grandmother, because he has a peculiar feeling. Whenthe grandparents arrive, they find the great-grandmother lookingpeaceful in her favorite chair, having passed away earlier that day.

About this time last year, my father-in-law, Stanley Todd, sensed thathis eight-year fight with prostate cancer had taken a new turn. A med-ical exam proved him right. The doctors were worried because his kid-neys weren’t functioning well, and the disease appeared to havespread. He consulted with an oncologist and decided on an aggressivecourse of treatment as soon as his kidney function improved. Doctorslater implanted nephrostomy tubes in both kidneys, leaving him withtwo drainage bags at his side. Within weeks, however, further testsindicated that the cancer had spread aggressively; cancer treatmentswere not an option.

Many people would decide there was no hope and thus no reason togo on. But after a few days of reflection, Stanley seemed resolved touse whatever time he had remaining to help his family and friendsthrough the tough final days. As his friend Hank Everman later eulo-gized: “The word passive was alien to him. He was always an activist.”That was true even as he lay dying.

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Stanley was blessed with a steady stream of visitors during the lastseveral months of his life. And these visitors were in for a surprise. Hismind was so clear and his conversation so normal and engaging, it waseasy to forget this beloved life force was so desperately ill. Instead ofcomforting him, these friends left the nursing home finding it was theywho were the comforted. Stanley had found new meaning in his life,even when his chances for survival were zero and his quality of life wasso poor. That meaning, and his tremendous faith, allowed Stanley notto focus on his own suffering. Heshowed us all that each day really is agift from God.

On what turned out to be Stanley’slast night, after the first day in whichhe was never fully awake and respon-sive, my wife Becky and I received a callshortly after 1 a.m., letting us knowthat his system seemed to be shutting down. When we arrived at hisroom, the nurses told us they could find only a faint pulse and noblood pressure. After we sat down and told him we were there — andlet him know Becky’s brother was on the way — Stanley’s conditionchanged dramatically. His breathing grew more robust, and the nursessoon found a pulse and a normal blood pressure.

Becky’s brother arrived, and Stanley’s condition changed again. Hisbreathing grew less labored but more steady. It was almost a normalrhythm. Then, Stanley opened his eyes. He didn’t say anything, but hefixed his eyes on a spot straight ahead, on the ceiling, over the foot ofhis bed. There was almost a quizzical look in his eyes, then an intensestare. He kept looking at that spot, unblinking, for several minutesbefore he closed his eyes again. Within a few minutes, he was gone.

Becky, her brother and I have not talked much about that instantwhen Stanley saw Jesus. But we knew He was there. Today, on thisEaster, we will celebrate with joy the day of our Lord’s resurrectionand the promise of eternal life. And we will know He is there.

— Michael York

TODAY: Celebrate newlife. Honor a family memberor friend who has passedon by donating your timeto a charity or a cause youknew they cared about.

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THE CHURCH OF THE GOOD SHEPHERDWe are a United Methodist church that has been an active spiritual

center in the Vienna community for more than 35 years. Our mission is to worship God with all of our gifts and talents. We are a caringcommunity, active in prayer and service for our church members

and for our neighbors in need. Our hearts, our minds and our doors arealways open. We welcome you each Sunday for our 8:30 a.m. and

11 a.m. worship services.

Special Lent and Holy Week

WORSHIPServicesASH WEDNESDAY - MARCH 5, 7:30 p.m.A simple and profound worship experience that will include the impo-sition of ashes.

MAUNDY THURSDAY - APRIL 17, 7:30 p.m.A service designed to help us appreciate the meaning of the “Last”supper. A special children’s program will be offered.

GOOD FRIDAY - APRIL 18, 7:30 p.m.Come hear the story, feel the grief and anger of the ultimate evil andhelp each other carry the tragedy of the day. A prayer vigil will be heldfrom 4 p.m. to 7 p.m.

EASTER SUNRISE SERVICE - APRIL 20, 6 a.m.Greet the Easter dawn as we begin the joy of Easter in our outdoorworship area. Dress warmly and bring a flashlight.

EASTER WORSHIP SERVICES - APRIL 20, 8:30 & 11 a.m.Come, celebrate the resurrection, as we proclaim the good news inWord and with special music.

A nursery is provided for all services, except for the Easter Sunrise Service.

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for lent 2003 - amazon s3 · devotions for lent 2003 ... christmas poem at the beginning of lent....

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