Reflecting on Steadfast Love….

Six of our old oak trees were felled this past week. I will especially miss the large tree close to our back deck, a tree that provided such welcome shade. Yet what was once a hardy oak tree had become a danger to our home. So I was drawn to this photo taken by my friend Leigh. She is an amazing quilter, creating art out of what others would consider simply scraps. This bunny reminds me of the book The Runaway Bunny, written by Margaret Wise Brown. This beautifully illustrated book was one of my daughter Tori’s favorites as a small child. Each time the bunny runs away from the mother, the mother responds “”if you run away, I will run after you”. Some consider the book a testament to a mother’s undying love, while others consider the story an allegory of the soul being pursued by God. No matter where we go, no matter how far we stray from the path provided for us, God will be there. This children’s story captures the essence of Psalm 139, in a way that all of us can understand. Many years ago, our parish made a quilt for our priest’s 25th wedding anniversary. Each of us made a block with scripture about love. In researching the Bible verses, I almost always found the phrase ‘steadfast love’. Steadfast means assured, continuous, fixed in purpose, unwavering. No matter what, God loves us. God’s love does not depend on our accomplishments, or our kindness, or loving God in return. Like the runaway bunny, we may seek to wander off, only to learn God has been with us all along. Take time today to rest in God’s steadfast love. For just a moment, stop running away, stop running at all. Pause to take in your surroundings, to simply be in the moment. In a world where nothing remains the same, allow yourself to be comforted by steadfast love. Photo and quilt by Leigh Hooper Darcy

Reflecting on the Path Ahead….

Autumn has definitely arrived, with rainy evenings and cool, clear mornings. The ground is soaked and almost spongy. So I was drawn to this photo taken by my friend Carole of a path at Montpelier. There is nothing like rain to make the orange soil of Virginia look even more orange, and the bark on the trees look almost black. The equestrian fence that lines this path has been blackened with ash, echoing the color of the bark. The leaves and grass are so bright you could almost mistake this picture for a spring scene. Yet we must remember this stark contrast was created by a storm. As Christians, we are promised abundant life, a life full of not only contentment and satisfaction but also of frustrations and disappointments. We are called to live that life to the fullest, to open our hearts to what the path ahead brings. There will be days of joy and days of sadness. We cannot close our hearts to one without losing the other. Yet how often do we succumb to this temptation, or know others that do? We can even fall into the Pit called depression, shutting down and withdrawing from emotional engagement. Depression is not sadness, depression is overarching, long standing, seemingly impossible to shake. Sometimes depression is brought on by life events, or a series of stressful circumstances. It’s almost as if the path is lost, and life is played out on the sidelines. Some believe the apostle Paul suffered from depression, that depression is the ‘thorn in his side’, not physical illness. Yet this is the same Paul who established the early church and wrote or contributed to a large portion of the New Testament. Take time today to listen to your heart, to claim the promise of abundant life. Pay attention to how you feel inside, and consider the path ahead. And remember that sometimes that path is best informed by the storms we experience in life. To quote the famous author Willa Cather, ‘There are some things you learn best in calm, and some in storm’. Photo by Carole Buckwalter © 2011

Reflecting on the Day After….

Thunderstorms rolled through the area last night, moving on and leaving us with a picture perfect September day. Many churches, including ours, offered special services in remembrance of September 11th. So I was drawn to this photo of the twin towers taken by my husband Mark over twenty years ago. On a day trip to New York City, we went to the top of one of the towers. The view of the city skyline was amazing. As we left, Mark lay down on the ground and took this photo looking up. He said it was the only way to take it all in. So today, the day after the anniversary, I wonder if looking up is the only way to take it all in. There is no human answer to what happened, or why it happened. We were living in the north of England on September 11, 2001. It was surreal to be so far away when something so frightening was happening here at home. Yet perhaps God provided us another view of what it means to live beyond terrorism. The English have long dealt with this fact of life. Our family was surrounded by love, with folks we barely knew asking after us and making sure we were comforted so far from home. Flowers were left at the gate of the post, or tucked into the fencing. What I heard most, or perhaps remember most, was the firm resolve that only love could conquer such fear. I used to think that hate was the opposite of love. Now I believe that fear is the opposite, or perhaps the absence of love. Love is like a light that blots out the darkness of fear. Yet such love is only possible through faith in God. Take time today to choose love over fear, to shine light on someone in darkness. Open your heart to their story and allow yourself to be vulnerable. And remember to look up, it’s the only way to take it all in. Photo by Mark Lindsey

Reflecting on Power….

It’s raining and raining. While our home has remained dry and secure, those living near creeks and rivers have plenty to worry about. Flooding plagues the Northeast and Tennessee Valley areas, while Texas is battling fires due to drought conditions. So I was drawn to this deceptively simple photo taken by my friend Carole. Her friend holds a single, dew drenched leaf in his strong hand. To place that leaf securely in his grasp took patience and a gentle touch. You can’t shake or tip the leaf, or the dew is gone. He holds the leaf in a cupped hand, adjusting the shape of his palm to natural curve of the leaf. In the midst of all this mayhem, this photo reminded me that God is sovereign and all powerful. Our entire world, throughout the ages, is like a single dew drenched leaf in God’s hand. This divine power is gentle, loving, caressing. God’s power conquers with grace and mercy, convincing rather than coercing. In the Old Testament, we see God patiently, persistently pouring out His love, regardless of the human response. In the New Testament, we see God deign to take our human form to pay the price for our sins. Christ lived and died among us, then rose again, conquering sin and death on the cross. The Most High, the Omnipotent, offers love, no matter what the cost. Let this unending love be our response to those suffering from these natural disasters. Take time today to learn how to help someone affected by floods or fires. Perhaps a neighbor that lost power can take a hot shower at your home. Cook extra, and share a home cooked meal. Simply listen to another’s story, be present to their pain. Let us be like Christ, like a cupped hand gently caressing a dew drenched leaf. Photo by Carole Buckwalter © 2011

Reflecting on Discernment….

Temperatures are dropping and we are expecting rain all this week. The rain has turned cold, and the ground stays wet even between showers. The leaves are starting to drop, helped along by the storms. So I was drawn to this photo of a turtle making his way across the damp ground. My photos of turtles usually look like a picture of a rock. Perhaps I am in too much of a rush, or too clumsy. I startle the poor thing into drawing back into its shell. Box turtles can completely close their shells to protect themselves from enemies. Without looking closely, the shell blends in, almost disappearing from sight. Perhaps that is why box turtles can live to be 100 years old. In this amazing photo, the turtle is looking straight at us, as curious about us as we are about him. It seems to me that discernment is a lot like being a turtle. We look all around for answers, chasing one clue after another. Or perhaps we stew over the difficult questions of life in solitude, losing sight of everything else. We are tempted to settle for an either/or solution, when the real way out means both/and. True discernment takes time, both time apart and in community. Just as our faith includes both public worship and private prayer time, discernment involves both public and private moments. When we seek God’s will, what we seek is the still, small voice, not loud, clamoring chaos. God is eternally consistent – we are never directed to violate God’s laws. God is persistent – forget second chances, God will give you more chances that you can ever imagine. God is community – His will for you is confirmed through other believers. True discernment requires us to slow down, to tread carefully, to listen to our own hearts and to others. Take time today to discern God’s will for you. Slow down and move deliberately, carefully listening for that still, small voice. Heed the words of others, even though the conversation may seem unrelated or trivial. And trust that in time, the answer will be looking straight at you, just like this turtle. Photo by LadyBugCrossing

Reflecting on Grief….

It’s raining this morning, or perhaps the rain from last night is dripping off the large oak trees. I linger when walking the dog on days like this. The world seems so silent and at peace. So I was drawn to this photo of my parents at my sister Lana’s wedding over twenty years ago. Mom and Dad are making their grand entrance at the reception, happily greeting everyone. You can see my sisters Rita and Pam in the background along with members of the groom’s family. This morning Lisa and Roxanne, sisters and my friends since elementary school, are burying their father. Last month, they buried their mother. My heart aches for them as I write this, knowing they are preparing to leave home for the funeral. I remember looking at my feet the morning of Mom’s funeral, wondering why I only had on one shoe, wondering how long I had been sitting there, without the energy to put on the other shoe. Over fifteen years later, getting ready for Dad’s funeral, I expected to feel that heaviness. Yet expecting something doesn’t make it any easier. When I read about the Pit in the Psalms, grief is what comes to mind. You feel stuck, oppressed, lost without hope of ever getting out. Someone you love is gone from this life forever. I’m not sure I understand what happens after death, and for me, I’m not sure it really matters. All I know for sure is that while we all die, love lives forever. Love is more powerful than our frail bodies, our weak wills, our feeble attempts that fall short in this life. So this morning I bid your prayers for these precious sisters, offering the words of a favorite hymn, Ubi Caritas. Where love and caring are, there is God, Ubi caritas, et amor, Deus ibi est. May this peaceful morning and the peace of God that passes all understanding, be with you, now and always. Amen. Photo credit The Torre Studios in Burlington, NJ

Reflecting on Abiding Love….

The warmer weather has returned, to remind us summer is not yet over. Those prone to allergies are having a tough time, as the weather can’t seem to make up its mind. For those suffering from migraines, this is a day to simply roll over and pull the covers up over your head. So I was drawn to this photo of Seamus, taken by my young friend Kellen. Seamus is helping Kellen finish her homework, sort of. Mostly, Seamus is abiding with Kellen. The word abide is often misunderstood. The verb abide is equated with the noun abode, meaning your place of residence. To abide means more than to live somewhere. It’s like the difference between a house and a home. To abide means to remain steadfast, to conform, to submit. Abiding love is never ending love, unconditional love, love that submits even when the cost of that love is beyond anything you can imagine. I often use images in intercessory prayer. When someone I care for is undergoing immense challenges, or in great distress, I often picture them like Seamus, as a kitten curled up in the lap of God. Like Seamus caught up in the folds of this beautiful fabric, I picture my loved one enfolded in the abiding love of the Almighty. Too often we think the answer is to be strong, to struggle and fight. Yet that path limits us to a human solution. When faced with overwhelming odds, we must submit to a higher power, to the Author of Creation. No matter what we face, it is but a small thing to the same God who defeated sin and death on the cross. Take time today to rest in the abiding love of God. Let go of what burdens your heart, offering a simple prayer for yourself or for another. And like Seamus, let’s stop to curl up in the lap of God – there is plenty of room for us all. Photo by Kellen Levinson

Reflecting on Food….

The temperatures dropped into the 50’s last night, making for good sleeping weather. The frogs and insects are serenading us in the early evening, their last songs before the cold weather sets in. Summer is not all that is ending here in Fauquier County. So I was drawn to this photo of chickens at a family owned farm taken by my friend Sarah. These chickens don’t have much in common with the Dolly Parton variety often sold in the supermarkets. No growth hormones or strange chemical cocktails for these chickens, just their feed and some scraps of vegetables. I like knowing the farmers that grow our food. Our family eats locally grown food as much as possible. We believe that buying local and eating local is one of the best ways to be good stewards of creation. We support our neighbors and friends, and reduce the distance from the farm to our dinner plates. Folks talk about conservation, and neglect to consider how much fuel goes into their food. Local produce in the grocery stores sometimes means grown in the US, not grown in your county or state. Even the farmer’s markets include trucked in produce to meet the expectation that any and all fruits and vegetables should be available year round. So I am sad to say that a farmer’s cooperative that greatly aided in our quest to eat locally is closing. Farmergirls.net offered a way to easily purchase food from a variety of local farms and kitchens. This service was web based, with vendors posting what was available each week and customers using an online shopping cart to choose their purchases. Our local food was then sorted and bagged for pick up. Farmergirls.net sought to connect people with local farms, and they have succeeded in doing just that. Many customers now deal with the farms directly, rather than going through the cooperative. Many families now purchase more than their produce locally, buying meat, eggs and dairy from local farms. But not all of us have time to stop at half a dozen locations, and Farmergirls.net will be sorely missed. Take time today to consider where your food was produced, and what went into it. Learn more about buying local and eating local. Start small, perhaps with apples this autumn, or some local honey. If you prefer to eat out, learn more about your favorite restaurant. Support your local farms and learn what a difference it makes to your dinner table. Photo by Sarah Gulick

Reflecting on Tides….

This morning is cool and clear, yet it will be hot and sticky before long. It seems like fall in the early morning and summer in the afternoon. We are in that funny in between time, looking forward to the colors of fall but already missing a day at the beach. So I was drawn to this amazing photo taken by my cousin Katie at Huguenot State Park near Jacksonville, Florida. It’s difficult to tell where the water stops and the beach begins. The tides have created a transitory work of art, to be washed away and rebuilt day by day. Our oceans and rivers ebb and flow, thanks to the pull of the moon. When this cycle is disrupted by a hurricane, water is transformed from a life giving force into a destructive force. Yet how often do we turn our own lives into a flood? We are tempted to press ahead, and double our efforts, to finally get everything done. Instead, we end up working ourselves to the point of exhaustion, and even becoming ill. Without periods of rest and relaxation, our bodies force us to stop, and we end up in bed, face up to God. We create a hurricane of activity that disrupts the tide of life. The life giving force becomes a destructive force. Sometimes the greatest harm comes from haste. We say things without thinking of how our words affect others, we simply don’t listen or see those we love. We bowl over those we cherish like a flood, bent on our own agendas to the detriment of others. Take time today to rest and relax. Pause and enjoy the beauty that surrounds you. Truly listen to your own heart and to those you love. Allow the natural rhythm of life to take hold, and you will create a transitory work of art, a life well lived, one day at a time. Photo by Katie Collett

Reflecting on the Impossible….

Clouds are threatening rain again this morning, after a weekend full of rain. We live far enough inland to have avoided most of the hurricane’s effects. Friends and family in New Jersey and the Northeast saw the most damage, with flooding and power outages in many areas. So I have been wondering about what is and isn’t possible, about how our minds wrap around the unexpected and deal with the unanticipated. So I was drawn to this photo of a sea turtle, taken by John Searles of the Eco Mar organization. The white bump on the turtle’s back will monitor the movements of the turtle, using satellite tracking. The GPS system was one of the programs I worked with as a young lieutenant in the Air Force. Most of us consider outer space to be an empty vacuum, yet space is full of debris and dangerous radiation we are shielded from by our atmosphere. I worked with satellite engineers to ensure their systems would operate in all sorts of adverse conditions. We would brainstorm about all the possible threats to the system, then develop ways to deal with those threats. My job was to focus on the improbable possibilities, to ensure others could focus on the probable impossibilities. What good is an amazing satellite if the system is confounded by a micrometeor or sun spot? Yet today we take GPS for granted as a technology integrated into our handheld smart phones, or into a bump on the back of a turtle, to learn how to protect this beautiful creature and our oceans. Because someone conceived of what others considered impossible, and persevered to make that vision into a reality, our lives are full of possibilities. What the engineers started the environmentalists continue. We must not lose sight of the need to plan for adverse possibilities, yet must be sure to focus on what lies beyond the immediate crisis. Take time today to consider more than the possibilities of your current situation. Dare to dream the impossible, then seek to make that dream into a reality. Consider the threats and roadblocks to that dream, and develop ways to work around those threats. Persevere until that dream becomes a reality. If all things are possible through God, then who are we to say anything is impossible? Photo by John Searles © 2011

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