I am grateful for this space. One day again soon, I will write here. Today is not the day for it, but soon. Peace be with every one of you.
Tuesday, September 1, 2020
Monday, February 24, 2020
Sermon for Transfiguration Sunday, Year A, February 23, 2020
TRANSFIGURATION
SUNDAY
FEBRUARY
23, 2020
MATTHEW
17:1-9
“A
TRANSFIGURATION, A TOUCH”
1Six days later,
Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high
mountain, by themselves. 2And he was transfigured before them, and
his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. 3Suddenly
there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. 4Then
Peter said to Jesus, "Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I
will make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for
Elijah." 5While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud
overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, "This is my Son, the
Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!" 6When the
disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. 7But
Jesus came and touched them, saying, "Get up and do not be afraid." 8And
when they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus himself alone. 9As
they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them, "Tell no one about
the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead."
A
sonnet entitled, Transfiguration, from British poet, Malcolm Guite.
For that one
moment, ‘in and out of time’,
On that one
mountain where all moments meet,
The daily veil that
covers the sublime
In darkling glass fell
dazzled at his feet.
There were no
angels full of eyes and wings
Just living glory
full of truth and grace.
The Love that
dances at the heart of things
Shone out upon us
from a human face
And to that light
the light in us leaped up,
We felt it quicken
somewhere deep within,
A sudden blaze of
long-extinguished hope
Trembled and
tingled through the tender skin.
Nor can this
blackened sky, this darkened scar
Eclipse that
glimpse of how things really are.
Malcolm
Guite, Transfiguration
A
glimpse of how things really are.
What
a curious thing to say about the transfiguration. I say it’s curious, because
the transfiguration confounds us, and defies easy explanations. We don’t
necessarily understand it or know what to make of it. So, what does the poet
mean?
In
the moment of Transfiguration on the mountaintop, heaven touches earth,
divinity is embodied in humanity, and in Jesus we see what God intended the
perfect creation to be. Engulfed in light; emanating light; becoming as light,
there is Jesus, the fully human Jesus touching his disciples to calm their
fears as he radiates his unity with the divine light. Life on earth how it was
meant to be. A glimpse of how things really are.
And
yet, at the same time a glimpse of how far we are from how it was intended to
be when God, in infinite wisdom and a sudden burst of creativity spun the stars
into the heavens and exploded life on earth in the garden which is now a
distant memory. Perfection was imparted into every facet of creation, including
humans, in the perfect love of the divine creator – who created in love. Creator
and creation in perfect unity, but now, as we are all to aware, a creation
beset with war and anger, a thirst for revenge, a lust for unchecked power and
complete domination, all too imperfect, all too flawed. Creator and creation
separated by a divide, a chasm that cannot be filled by the most righteous of
efforts of the offspring of God’s love. Except by intervention of the
God/Human, Jesus, child of God, child of Light, child of Mary, the embodiment of
the perfection God intended.
Such
a blending of human and divine is foreign to us in our modern existence. We
don’t see it. We don’t experience it. It is almost inconceivable. What we so
more often see is the imperfect human side of life. The parts of us, deep
within the recesses of our being where little light shines that are envy,
jealousy, insecurity, and even enmity. We have felt that envy for the blessings
of another – their athletic grace, their physical beauty, their wealth beyond
our attaining. We are familiar with our jealous preoccupations with the ability
of another to be witty and smart. We are pierced at times by our insecurities
that remind us we are not as good as, not as much as that successful person. We
have known the heat of anger because we simply hated another human.
These
are the parts of life with which we are more familiar; which we experience in
ourselves and in others. The disciples were not unlike us, you know. They lived
in the milieu of negative human behaviors and emotions and experienced such
themselves. Thus, we know that they had ambitions to sit next to the throne of
Christ in eternity, to be the best of the best of the disciples.
They
too, like we, did not necessarily know what to make of a Jesus transfigured
before them in a shower of light and divinity. And so they cowered. They
covered their eyes and their heads. They fell to the ground. They feared. And
they retreated. It was only when Jesus reached down and touched them that they
were comforted. When his human hand made contact with them, their humanity was
settled.
And
then it dawned on them to worship. In the presence of the God/Human Jesus who
emanated the holiness of the One creator of all that is in a moment in time
before their very eyes they thought to stop, worship, honor, commemorate. It
was a moment in time like no other had experienced before. Maybe worship was
the only thing they knew they could do.
When
heaven and earth are transfigured in the One, in this Jesus, who touches us
with healing and wholeness, perhaps worship. And then, his hand, lifting these
disciples from their cowering pose, leads them down the mountain. Down from the
place of worship and into the place of real life, as we are fond of calling it.
Outside the walls of the church. And in their descent from heaven come to earth
in Jesus, the man with whom they walk, he says to them, tell no one what you
just saw, what you heard, how you felt. Keep it a secret unto yourselves, until
after I die. And they know right away, yes, they are certain of it, he just
told them he would die while they were yet alive in that real world at the base
of the mountain.
And
what does that mean that he will die before their eyes? Didn’t they just
witness glory? Didn’t they hear the very voice of God? Doesn’t that change
things? He was transfigured in their presence for goodness’ sake! Doesn’t that
change everything?
Does
wealth and power still prevail if he is gone? Is might still right when Jesus
returns from earth to heaven? Are the weak left to the mercy of the powerful?
Are the poor to remain poor?
Didn’t
heaven and earth come together in this man just at the moment they reached the
pinnacle of the mountain? Did not Moses and Elijah bear witness to the awesome
and unchecked governance of the Prince of Peace?
Tell.
No one. Until I am gone.
A
transfiguration. A touch. Voices of prophets. The thunder of God. And then,
silence.
When
you are atop a mountain sometimes you are surrounded by clouds. I went to Mt.
St. Helens in Washington in 2005. The higher I drove the deeper I was in the
clouds. Visibility was almost nil, but it wasn’t dark. The sun above the clouds
shone through, but that didn’t help my seeing, until at once the car exited the
cloud and the bright sun was all around, and there in the distance was the
volcano as clear as it could be.
You
can see a long way from the top of a mountain. You can see all the way to a
cross on a hill far away. Jesus did. Tell no one until I am gone, he told them.
And down the mountain they went back among the people clamoring for health and
wholeness, clamoring to be free from slavery to ruthless masters, clamoring for
a messiah to save them and take away all the earth and leave only heaven
behind.
But
that cannot be. Yet. In Jesus, earth and heaven touched, and in his glory he
was transfigured on that day so long ago, atop that mountain that seems light
years away from us.
And
so we worship, and we wait, and we pray, thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on
earth as it is in heaven.
Nor
can this blackened sky, this darkened scar; Eclipse that glimpse of how things
really are. Come, Lord Jesus, come.
Monday, November 11, 2019
The Little Free Pantry
November 11, 2019
Today we placed the Little Free Pantry at First Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) in Winchester, KY. It is a way for people who need just a bit of food to have access to it. I am really honored and grateful for this project. The congregation has been really supportive of the effort and I can't wait to see what blessings may result.
Of course it's possible it will be vandalized.
Of course it's possible someone will abuse it, clean it out and take everything.
It's worth the risk.
Thanks to Meredith Peck Guy for the idea. Cecil Walson for building it. (I helped a little.) Mason Guy for financing it and helping get it installed. Lee Kidd for helping get it installed. Kelly Johns for the graphics work she does so well. The youth and children of the church for filling it up for the first time.
May the Little Free Pantry be a blessing.
Today we placed the Little Free Pantry at First Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) in Winchester, KY. It is a way for people who need just a bit of food to have access to it. I am really honored and grateful for this project. The congregation has been really supportive of the effort and I can't wait to see what blessings may result.
Of course it's possible it will be vandalized.
Of course it's possible someone will abuse it, clean it out and take everything.
It's worth the risk.
Thanks to Meredith Peck Guy for the idea. Cecil Walson for building it. (I helped a little.) Mason Guy for financing it and helping get it installed. Lee Kidd for helping get it installed. Kelly Johns for the graphics work she does so well. The youth and children of the church for filling it up for the first time.
May the Little Free Pantry be a blessing.
Thursday, October 17, 2019
The Week of the Ministry, 2019
October 17, 2019
The Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) annually celebrates this week as the Week of the Ministry. I am so grateful to the people who have given their lives to professional ministry; whose lives have intersected with mine in some way and left a lasting impression on me. Among them, I am the least of these, but I am deeply grateful for their example, their mentoring, and their friendship.
At First Christian Church in Tulsa I benefited greatly from Dr. Eugene Brice, Dr. Roy L. Griggs, the Rev. Kim Clements Hames, the Rev. Richard Ziglar, and the Rev. Michael Passmore. Their work at First Christian Church was a model to churches around the country. And it heartened me and gave me solid footing when all the world around me was sinking away. I owe them my very life.
During my time at Southwestern College I came under the influence of two outstanding United Methodist pastors: the Rev. Dr Cecil Findley who was my Professor of Religion, and Dr. George Gardner who was pastor of First United Methodist Church in Winfield, KS. They both introduced me to a strain of progressive thought and practice that has stood the test of time.
At Brite Divinity School I was privileges to study with Dr. William Baird, the Rev. Cy Rowell, Dr. James O. Duke, Dr. William Countryman, Dr. Newell Williams, and Dr. Jack Suggs (the Dean!). Wow, when I look back on those days they were a time of dynamic learning. So very grateful for Brite Divinity School and its ministry. I also had the pleasure of serving alongside yet another United Methodist pastor, Dr. Kent Marrs at St. Stephen UMC in Arlington. He and that church taught me a lot.
Since being in Kentucky I have to give thanks for so many that the list that follows is in no way exhaustive. Dr. Olivia Bryan Updegrove, Rev. Larry Metzger, the Rev. Rick Rintamaa, Dr. Terry Ewing, Rev. Greg Alexander, Rev. Linda Jones, Rev. Michael Davison, Rev. Dr. Lisa Wilson Davison, Dr. Paul Jones, Rev. Dave Carr, Rev. Mickey Anders, Rev. Jim McLean, Rev. Shannon Cook, Rev. Rob Shrader, Rev. David Blondell, Rev. Kory Wilcoxson, Rev.David Emery, Rev. Michael with whom I share the love of the Mustang, Rev. Chana Tetzlaff, and Rev. Rachele Royale Holmes.
Thank you to each and every one of you for all you for the church. Your dedication and faithfulness are noteworthy. May the peace of Christ be with you.
Peace and Love,
Jerry
The Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) annually celebrates this week as the Week of the Ministry. I am so grateful to the people who have given their lives to professional ministry; whose lives have intersected with mine in some way and left a lasting impression on me. Among them, I am the least of these, but I am deeply grateful for their example, their mentoring, and their friendship.
At First Christian Church in Tulsa I benefited greatly from Dr. Eugene Brice, Dr. Roy L. Griggs, the Rev. Kim Clements Hames, the Rev. Richard Ziglar, and the Rev. Michael Passmore. Their work at First Christian Church was a model to churches around the country. And it heartened me and gave me solid footing when all the world around me was sinking away. I owe them my very life.
During my time at Southwestern College I came under the influence of two outstanding United Methodist pastors: the Rev. Dr Cecil Findley who was my Professor of Religion, and Dr. George Gardner who was pastor of First United Methodist Church in Winfield, KS. They both introduced me to a strain of progressive thought and practice that has stood the test of time.
At Brite Divinity School I was privileges to study with Dr. William Baird, the Rev. Cy Rowell, Dr. James O. Duke, Dr. William Countryman, Dr. Newell Williams, and Dr. Jack Suggs (the Dean!). Wow, when I look back on those days they were a time of dynamic learning. So very grateful for Brite Divinity School and its ministry. I also had the pleasure of serving alongside yet another United Methodist pastor, Dr. Kent Marrs at St. Stephen UMC in Arlington. He and that church taught me a lot.
Since being in Kentucky I have to give thanks for so many that the list that follows is in no way exhaustive. Dr. Olivia Bryan Updegrove, Rev. Larry Metzger, the Rev. Rick Rintamaa, Dr. Terry Ewing, Rev. Greg Alexander, Rev. Linda Jones, Rev. Michael Davison, Rev. Dr. Lisa Wilson Davison, Dr. Paul Jones, Rev. Dave Carr, Rev. Mickey Anders, Rev. Jim McLean, Rev. Shannon Cook, Rev. Rob Shrader, Rev. David Blondell, Rev. Kory Wilcoxson, Rev.David Emery, Rev. Michael with whom I share the love of the Mustang, Rev. Chana Tetzlaff, and Rev. Rachele Royale Holmes.
Thank you to each and every one of you for all you for the church. Your dedication and faithfulness are noteworthy. May the peace of Christ be with you.
Peace and Love,
Jerry
Mom, Post 1
February 15, 2019
Mom left this earth about 9:00am central time on January 31, 2019.
Mom entered this life on May 23, 1937. She joined her father, Guy Otis Dallas, her mother, Maxine Grimes Dallas, and her older brother, Guy Dallas Jr. She was born in Helena, AR. A couple years later her baby brother, Barclay Davidson Dallas was born.
The family moved to Tulsa about the time Mom started first grade. They moved onto Resevior Hill in Tulsa. It is a neighborhood of mid-sized brick homes, parks and winding streets high above downtown Tulsa just a bit to the northeast. Granddaddy Dallas worked for the Corps of Engineers. It wasn’t long before they moved to Brookside in Tulsa. All three kids graduated from Tulsa Central High School. Uncle Guy attended the University of Tulsa. Mom started at Oklahoma A&M, now Oklahoma State University, and finished one year.
Mom and Dad met at a roller skating rink in Tulsa. They were married on June 20, 1958. Magic happened on the honeymoon and I joined the family in February, 1959. Mom and Dad didn’t have much time for life before I came along. Mom and Dad were both 21 years old when I was born. So, we grew up together. First, living with Mom’s parents, then renting a horrid green shack on the bank of Joe Creek, which was prone to flooding. Then, to a duplex near Riverside Drive where my sister Melanie and not too long after, my brother Richard joined us.We moved to Horseshoe Hill in the summer of 1964 and Melissa joined the family. And the family was complete.
In those early days Dad worked at steel companies, then sheet metal companies. It was a near always broke experience. I used to tell people we were poor, but when we moved to Latimer Pl we had a mortgage. Lots of times an unpaid mortgage but our name was on a deed. If you own property you may be broke but it isn’t;t the same as being poor.Mom stayed at home and took care of the four of us. We were good kids but four kids in five and a half years is a handful. She had to take us everywhere she went. Grocery. Shopping. Laundromat — and that is a whole blog post in itself. Doctor. We always had four kids and a mom in the car. Her ability to handle us amazes me still.
She made cheerleading costumes for the girls. She cooked. She sewed. She did a tiny bit of housework. She watched soap operas. She took us to every practice, every game. She attended games, concerts, everything., And she loved us more than we could comprehend.
If she complained about anything I never heard it.
Dinners were on the cheap. We ate a lot of tunaroni. Peas. Mashed potatoes. We drank hot tea like the
British every morning.
When I graduated from high school and went on to college she sent me letters. She sent me care packages. She decided to be an LPN. She went back to school for a year and graduated with her Licensed Practical Nurse. Her kids were so proud of her. And it changed her fortunes, and Dad’s too. For the first time there was a bit of financial breathing room.
They loved to travel to see their kids, and so they did. They often came to Kentucky to see me or to North Carolina to visit Mel and Dave. They traveled to cemeteries in search of dead relatives. They went to see people. In the last thirty years of Mom’s life she and Dad fell in love all over again, and it showed.
Mom left this earth about 9:00am central time on January 31, 2019.
Mom entered this life on May 23, 1937. She joined her father, Guy Otis Dallas, her mother, Maxine Grimes Dallas, and her older brother, Guy Dallas Jr. She was born in Helena, AR. A couple years later her baby brother, Barclay Davidson Dallas was born.
The family moved to Tulsa about the time Mom started first grade. They moved onto Resevior Hill in Tulsa. It is a neighborhood of mid-sized brick homes, parks and winding streets high above downtown Tulsa just a bit to the northeast. Granddaddy Dallas worked for the Corps of Engineers. It wasn’t long before they moved to Brookside in Tulsa. All three kids graduated from Tulsa Central High School. Uncle Guy attended the University of Tulsa. Mom started at Oklahoma A&M, now Oklahoma State University, and finished one year.
Mom and Dad met at a roller skating rink in Tulsa. They were married on June 20, 1958. Magic happened on the honeymoon and I joined the family in February, 1959. Mom and Dad didn’t have much time for life before I came along. Mom and Dad were both 21 years old when I was born. So, we grew up together. First, living with Mom’s parents, then renting a horrid green shack on the bank of Joe Creek, which was prone to flooding. Then, to a duplex near Riverside Drive where my sister Melanie and not too long after, my brother Richard joined us.We moved to Horseshoe Hill in the summer of 1964 and Melissa joined the family. And the family was complete.
In those early days Dad worked at steel companies, then sheet metal companies. It was a near always broke experience. I used to tell people we were poor, but when we moved to Latimer Pl we had a mortgage. Lots of times an unpaid mortgage but our name was on a deed. If you own property you may be broke but it isn’t;t the same as being poor.Mom stayed at home and took care of the four of us. We were good kids but four kids in five and a half years is a handful. She had to take us everywhere she went. Grocery. Shopping. Laundromat — and that is a whole blog post in itself. Doctor. We always had four kids and a mom in the car. Her ability to handle us amazes me still.
She made cheerleading costumes for the girls. She cooked. She sewed. She did a tiny bit of housework. She watched soap operas. She took us to every practice, every game. She attended games, concerts, everything., And she loved us more than we could comprehend.
If she complained about anything I never heard it.
Dinners were on the cheap. We ate a lot of tunaroni. Peas. Mashed potatoes. We drank hot tea like the
British every morning.
When I graduated from high school and went on to college she sent me letters. She sent me care packages. She decided to be an LPN. She went back to school for a year and graduated with her Licensed Practical Nurse. Her kids were so proud of her. And it changed her fortunes, and Dad’s too. For the first time there was a bit of financial breathing room.
They loved to travel to see their kids, and so they did. They often came to Kentucky to see me or to North Carolina to visit Mel and Dave. They traveled to cemeteries in search of dead relatives. They went to see people. In the last thirty years of Mom’s life she and Dad fell in love all over again, and it showed.
Thursday, December 13, 2018
Trying Too Hard
December 13, 2018
I try too hard to get along with everyone, to be well-liked, to get past conflict. Sometimes when I try too hard to get along the center of me becomes too fluid, weak, and loses its influence. This is a personality flaw that I carry with me; have carried with me for a very long time. Most of the time it doesn't cause too much grief, but sometimes it does cause a problem.
One of the main reasons I chose ministry as a profession was that in Christ, and in the encouragement of the Church, I found self-worth. I came to believe that I was indeed a child of God, equal to any other on the planet in God's eyes. What I found I wanted others to find as well. God loves us all. I believe that. God values us all. I believe that, too. In Christ, there is not one thing that can separate us from the love of God. I deeply believe that.
Those beliefs give me a core from which I can begin to feel better about me, and yet, I sometimes try too hard to get along, to be liked, to please. I wish I had moved past it by my age, and I am better than I once was, but I still have a ways to go.
I can assure you, dear reader, of this. I will encourage, aid, come alongside, and pray for you. Because God has been gracious to me I enjoy every opportunity to make a difference in the way you see yourself and believe in yourself -- because, believe me, God sees you as valuable, and God believes in you enough to invest a life in you.
Thanks for listening.
Peace be with you,
Jerry
I try too hard to get along with everyone, to be well-liked, to get past conflict. Sometimes when I try too hard to get along the center of me becomes too fluid, weak, and loses its influence. This is a personality flaw that I carry with me; have carried with me for a very long time. Most of the time it doesn't cause too much grief, but sometimes it does cause a problem.
One of the main reasons I chose ministry as a profession was that in Christ, and in the encouragement of the Church, I found self-worth. I came to believe that I was indeed a child of God, equal to any other on the planet in God's eyes. What I found I wanted others to find as well. God loves us all. I believe that. God values us all. I believe that, too. In Christ, there is not one thing that can separate us from the love of God. I deeply believe that.
Those beliefs give me a core from which I can begin to feel better about me, and yet, I sometimes try too hard to get along, to be liked, to please. I wish I had moved past it by my age, and I am better than I once was, but I still have a ways to go.
I can assure you, dear reader, of this. I will encourage, aid, come alongside, and pray for you. Because God has been gracious to me I enjoy every opportunity to make a difference in the way you see yourself and believe in yourself -- because, believe me, God sees you as valuable, and God believes in you enough to invest a life in you.
Thanks for listening.
Peace be with you,
Jerry
Wednesday, December 5, 2018
A Bunch of Little Things
December 5, 2018
It’s a bunch of little things that make a difference. Oh, sometimes the big things matter too, but day to day it’s a bunch of little things.
Sailing is something I enjoy. There is a quietness to the boat running through the water with the aid of the wind. Sailing a boat well takes a combination of people and skills and choreography. Sailing well is a combination of a lot of little things happening together.
Life is like that too. It's a dance of a lot of people doing a lot of little things, almost every one having some effect, known or unknown; negative or positive, on others. Day to day living together on the same planet requires a lot of little things going well.
Kindness is a little thing. It’s always worth the effort required. Even when kindness is not reciprocated, it is still the right way to be, the appropriate thing to do. Kindness means treating people as if they were beloved children of God even when they act like hellions. Our instincts tell us that when we are hit we should hit back; that when we are insulted we should insult back; an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. Jesus reminded us that we should endeavor to do for others what we would have them do for us — and when they are mean to us he encourages us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us. Not easy. Sometimes it requires a massive effort, but it’s worth it.
Showing up where and when you are needed is a little thing. Employers like employees who show up for work when they are supposed to. We like to elect congresspersons who are on the job and ready to vote on bills and proposals. Friends sometimes need a friend to be with them; deaths, surgeries, illnesses, events with their children. Showing up means something. You don’t have to come bearing gifts or with the right words to say in every situation. Showing up speaks volumes. It’s a little thing, but it matters.
Listening is a little thing that feels like a very big thing to someone who needs to have their voice heard. Listening to someone makes a huge difference, but it may be difficult to do. African-American citizens in this country need to believe that people in power and in uniform are listening to them, paying attention to what they say. Sometimes they need to say things that people in power do not want to hear, but listening matters. The friend in a difficult relationship may need someone to hear their side of the story. Not easy to hear what they may have to say, but important to listen. It matters. Older people who feel they have been pushed to the side, and younger people who feel like they have no say — need to be heard. Listening is a little thing but it feels like a very big thing to the one who needs to have their voice heard. One doesn’t always have to offer solutions. Sometimes listening is enough.
Kindness. Presence. Listening. These are just little things we can do in our lives but they can matter so much to those whom we know and work with, those whom we love. Kindness, presence and listening are gifts that when offered speak to the way we value others. If we can operate from a place where we deeply believe that every human is a beloved child of God, then we will value them as God does, and the little things, which can sometimes be difficult, become big gifts to those who receive them.
What little thing do you value? What little thing can you offer?
A bunch of little things can make the world a better place to live.
Peace and Love,
Jerry
It’s a bunch of little things that make a difference. Oh, sometimes the big things matter too, but day to day it’s a bunch of little things.
Sailing is something I enjoy. There is a quietness to the boat running through the water with the aid of the wind. Sailing a boat well takes a combination of people and skills and choreography. Sailing well is a combination of a lot of little things happening together.
Life is like that too. It's a dance of a lot of people doing a lot of little things, almost every one having some effect, known or unknown; negative or positive, on others. Day to day living together on the same planet requires a lot of little things going well.
Kindness is a little thing. It’s always worth the effort required. Even when kindness is not reciprocated, it is still the right way to be, the appropriate thing to do. Kindness means treating people as if they were beloved children of God even when they act like hellions. Our instincts tell us that when we are hit we should hit back; that when we are insulted we should insult back; an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. Jesus reminded us that we should endeavor to do for others what we would have them do for us — and when they are mean to us he encourages us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us. Not easy. Sometimes it requires a massive effort, but it’s worth it.
Showing up where and when you are needed is a little thing. Employers like employees who show up for work when they are supposed to. We like to elect congresspersons who are on the job and ready to vote on bills and proposals. Friends sometimes need a friend to be with them; deaths, surgeries, illnesses, events with their children. Showing up means something. You don’t have to come bearing gifts or with the right words to say in every situation. Showing up speaks volumes. It’s a little thing, but it matters.
Listening is a little thing that feels like a very big thing to someone who needs to have their voice heard. Listening to someone makes a huge difference, but it may be difficult to do. African-American citizens in this country need to believe that people in power and in uniform are listening to them, paying attention to what they say. Sometimes they need to say things that people in power do not want to hear, but listening matters. The friend in a difficult relationship may need someone to hear their side of the story. Not easy to hear what they may have to say, but important to listen. It matters. Older people who feel they have been pushed to the side, and younger people who feel like they have no say — need to be heard. Listening is a little thing but it feels like a very big thing to the one who needs to have their voice heard. One doesn’t always have to offer solutions. Sometimes listening is enough.
Kindness. Presence. Listening. These are just little things we can do in our lives but they can matter so much to those whom we know and work with, those whom we love. Kindness, presence and listening are gifts that when offered speak to the way we value others. If we can operate from a place where we deeply believe that every human is a beloved child of God, then we will value them as God does, and the little things, which can sometimes be difficult, become big gifts to those who receive them.
What little thing do you value? What little thing can you offer?
A bunch of little things can make the world a better place to live.
 |
| It's the Little Things |
Peace and Love,
Jerry
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