The dawn may take some time

Last night I posted on Facebook that there is a big hole on the street and a deep trench through my front yard where work is going on to connect water and sewer to the new house we're building. I added: "I guess it's progress that things get torn apart to get put back together." One of my friends commented, "Sounds theological to me!" I hadn't really meant it in that way but it is a week that we Christians contemplate things torn apart before they are put back together - that death comes before resurrection.

I'm sad this week that things are torn apart in my friend Carla's family - Carla's big sister Eileen died last week, too soon we would say. I think of the gaping hole in my yard and know that the piles of dirt will fill it up again either today or tomorrow - but I know that it will take longer to put things together for Carla and her family. We need to walk tenderly with those who grieve without rushing them to the Resurrection. The dawn that emerges from this darkness takes time but we can be hopeful. We can hope because the One who walked the path to the cross walks with those for whom things are torn apart.

21 Days

A friend recently shared the sermon message at her church. The pastor challenged the congregation to consider how their lives might be different if they knew they only had 21 days to live. It made me think. What would change in my life if I knew I only had 21 days? Would I stop doing some things? Would I start doing other things? How would I relate to my family? Friends? Colleagues?

I've been mulling this over for a few days and here's what I've come up with: I would get up earlier and enjoy sunrises that I rarely see. I would stop and enjoy sunsets that I miss by being busy with other things. I would thank God for the many gifts He has given me. I would bless others with the money and possessions that I would no longer need. I would make sure my nephew knew that blowing bubbles is a simple thing that makes nearly everyone smile. And I would make rhubarb pie for my husband.

What about you? What would your 21 days look like?

ATM

I'm using a devotional book for Lent called, "There's no ATM in the Wilderness." The reflections are written by a variety of people who are active in the United Church of Canada. There is a Scripture passage, a reflection, a prayer and ideas for journalling or action. Last night's text was from Mark 12, especially the first part of verse 17: "Jesus said to them, 'Give to the emperor the things that are the emperor's, and to God the things that are God's'" One suggestion in the journal reflection part caught my attention: "John Wesley suggested praying before spending money. What if, every time you spent money, you simply asked the question: Remembering it's not really mine, is this how I want to spend God's money?" Something to ponder.