“May God bless us with discomfort at easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships, so that we may live deep within our hearts. 

May God bless us with anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that we may work for justice, freedom and peace. 

May God bless us with tears to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation and war, so that we may reach our hands to comfort them and turn their pain into joy. 

And may God bless us with enough foolishness to believe that we can make a difference in this world, so that we can do what others claim cannot be done” (Old Franciscan Saying).

I like to post this old blessing periodically to remind myself what my faith is really about. 

I’m not blessed so I can grow fat and lazy and complacent. I’m blessed so that I in turn can be a blessing to someone in need just as I was once in need (and still am).

May we all be blessed with enough foolishness to believe that not only can we make a difference in the world but that by the grace of God we are making one.

I won’t go long tonight because I’m weary. I think this t-shirt expresses my current feelings, which aren’t all that deep apparently.

Enjoy.

I still remember the very first person I met my first time at Kairos. Her name was Amy Bradshaw, and she was a volunteer.

I remember that she made me feel welcome, like I belonged. She always was willing to listen to me and ask me about my day and how it went.

I believe she moved to Knoxville and got married a few years back. I also believe that if I live to be 101, I will never forget that feeling of welcome and belonging.

I think one of the greatest needs in this day and age is to be seen. People long for someone else to notice them and validate their existence, saying in essence, “You are not alone. You will not struggle alone. I will be a witness to your life.”

Too many feel invisible and unwanted. It’s tragic that many will live and die with no legacy to leave behind and no one to leave it to. 

Maybe the most powerful thing you can do for someone is to see them. All it takes sometimes is a smile and a friendly word as simple as a “Hello.”

Thanks, Amy. Your simple act of kindness did not pass unnoticed.

I had the chance to catch up with a friend and his wife. They’re with CRU (formerly known as Campus Crusade for Christ) in Romania. They’re still navigating the brutal terrain that is known as the English language, but their English is about a thousand times better than my Romanian (which is non-existant).

It all started at the Tower of Babel. We lost the ability to communicate with each other when our arrogance made us deaf to the voice of God. Instead of spreading out over the earth like God wsnted, we thought we could build a monument that would put us on equal footing with God.

I was thinking today that not only did we lose our community with each other through a common language, we also lost the ability to voice our hearts’ deepest desires in a way others could fully relate to. We lost the gift of being able to fully discern our own voices within apart from all the outside noise.

Calvary was the moment when everything that had gone wrong started righting itself again. When Jesus started putting this upside down world right side up again.

My friend and I might not always communicate clearly, but we have the same Spirit within each of us and a bond that goes deeper than words.

I find the deeper into God I go, the more He reveals my deepest and truest self and how to get to it and share it with the world.

The curse is coming undone as the Kingdom comes into view. Soon we will all know and see everything clearly, and we will know our God as fully as He knows each of us.

As I type these words, I’m listening to Peanut, my new kitten, frolicking and playing nearby.

It still seems surreal that she’s even here. Part of me feels like my old cat Lucy should still be alive and snoring on the pillow next to mine. A small part of my heart went with her when she crossed that rainbow bridge and another small part still hurts whenever photos of her pop up on Timehop.

I’m grateful to have someone new to love. Peanut is helping my heart heal. Plus, she keeps me smiling with her sweet, endearing, klutzy ways.

At the end of the day, it’s all still grace. Anything good that happened today was all God, and even the not so good moments had grace all over them.

I think Peanut wants to add her two cents worth by the way she’s attacking my iPad and purring. She’s saying thanks for the new home and all the love. She likes her food and all the toys are neato keen (her words not mine).

God gifted me with another day filled with too many blessings to count, so I’m good. And all is still grace.

“To clasp the hands in prayer is the beginning of an uprising against the disorder of the world” (Karl Barth).

I’m still not a fan of politics. To me, it seems that politics and political views become an excuse used by too many to disobey Jesus’ teaching on loving and praying for your enemies. It becomes the justification to belittle and mock the other side, often celebrating when they fail. That is not the way of the Rabbi.

I hear the word tolerance bandied about quite a bit lately, but what it usually means is tolerance for those whose views match your own. That is not the way of the Rabbi.

Jesus never told us to tolerate each other. He said to love each other, even your enemies. He said to pray even for those who persecute you, to go the extra mile for that enemy, to turn the other cheek. 

He said to render to Caesar the things that belong to Caesar, and to God the things that are God’s. He said this about the Caesar whose administration actively oppressed the people of Israel.

Jesus believed that love is what ultimately conquers evil, not hate or animosity or fear-mongering or resistance for the sake of resistance.

Jesus never minced His words, yet His harshest words were for those who used religion to exclude rather than to include people. 

Let us never condemn or despise those for whom Jesus died, but love them as He loved them, even forgiving those who murdered Him while they were in the very act.

That is the way of the Rabbi.