My Favorite Walks

11798125_10207488450436285_1642485920_n

In The Hobbit, there’s a passage that references a map that contains all of Bilbo Baggin’s favorite walking trails. I think I’ve found mine.

There’s a street that runs parallel to West Main Street that I’ve discovered that lends itself to walking and thinking. There’s not a lot of traffic on this road so it’s fairly peaceful.

All the houses on this street have been around a while and every once in a while I’ll run across some kids playing in a back yard or some friendly neighbors who will wave as I pass by. Once I even encountered a chatty grey cat who pegged me for being a cat person and ambled up to me for a bit of petting and conversation.

If I had loads of money, I’d like to live on this street. There is a house for sale that dates back to 1900. There’s another house that recently hit the market that I’d be sorely disappointed if there weren’t a ghost story or two to go with its fabled history.

I prefer walking when it’s not swelteringly hot. It’s hard to achieve tranquility when you’re sweating like a turkey that’s about to be Thanksgiving dinner. Or a pig that’s about to be in a BLT.

I’ve never been one to hear God speaking to me audibly, but I’ve found that God often speaks to me during one of my walks. Plus, I do need the exercise.

The Gospels record many instances of Jesus and the disciples doing a lot of walking. Back then, that was the main way to get from Point A to Point B. You walked.

I imagine that most of the memories the disciples carried with them of Jesus were the ones of the conversations they had while en route from one town to another. That’s how Jesus often speaks to us today. Generally not in those special moments but in the grind of daily life while we’re headed from one place to another.

So often in the walk of faith, the journey is just as important as the destination and the lessons we learn most are the ones we learn along the way.

11805941_10207488506877696_1566862054_n

It’s Summer Solstice Again

“It must have been the summer solstice
When I first gave my heart to You
The first day of a brand new season
In a fevered passion for Your simple truth
It was the longest I’d ever felt for anything
And it gave my soul a song to sing . . . .

And with the spring comes the thaw
Melting my heart reviving all
It comes full circle and then
It’s summer solstice again

So can You throw Your arms around me and walk me home
I’ve wandered off way too far for way too long
And standing broken in this wilderness of shame
I have found my only strength is in your name
Oh, Father please can You undo what I’ve done
And get me back to square one

Back to the summer solstice

Take me back

I wanna go back” (Wayne Kirkpatrick, recorded by Susan Ashton).

Yes, it is summer solstice again. It’s officially the longest day of the year in terms of having the most daylight.

This one was hot. As in even standing in the shade, I was still sweating like the pig that knows he’s about to be bacon.

It felt like I was standing in front of an oven, only there was no aroma of anything baking, except maybe me.

Summer always makes me nostalgic for days I can never get back. It makes me miss people I will never see again in this lifetime.

I’m thinking about all those Johnson family reunions we used to have where all the cousins would make the drive down to Christiana, Tennessee and bring buckets of fried chicken (along with a multitude of casseroles and other foods) and tell stories of yesteryear. I miss those.

It’s easy to want to look back when you can’t really see what’s ahead, to long for the past when the future seems uncertain and scary.

That’s where a lot of us are right now. We’re holding on to what we know, what we can feel with our hands and see with our eyes and make sense of with our minds. We cling to the tangible, even if it’s what’s holding us back from becoming what God destined us to become.

Maybe faith is letting go of  those things and reaching out into the unknown with only the assurance that God will be there.

I love what G. K. Chesterton said: “Hope means hoping when everything seems hopeless.”

So here’s to hope, which is possibly the best thing going right now.

Hope is a good thing.

 

 

 

 

Autumn in July? Yes, Please

image

I forgot my lunch today. I walked right out the front door and the word “lunch” never even crossed my mind. That happens when you’re in full-on Walking Dead mode, pre-coffee.

I ended up walking across the street to the hospital cafeteria. Don’t worry. They have a grill which actually has decent food. I myself had a turkey burger, being ever the culinarily adventurous type. And yes, it was slap yo momma good.

I love fall. I especially love these sneak previews in the month that’s notorious for making me sweat like a pig that’s about to become bacon. July and I normally don’t get along very well. The same goes for August.

But today was a pleasant surprise. I like to think of it as a bit of weather serendipity. When you’re eyes are opened by grace, you’re able to see these things as small blessings, gifts from God.

Kairos was spectacular as always. The question of the night was this: why do you believe in Jesus? Is it for a comfy life? Or for good luck a la Genie in a bottle? Is it for a free ticket to heaven and a get out of hell card?

While each of these have varying degrees of merit, none of them alone are enough to compel anyone to want to follow this Jesus for a lifetime. Or for them to follow after your lead.

The best reason to follow Jesus? Because He’s worth it. Because He’s more than just a good man or a good teacher or a good example. He’s God in human skin, or as tonight’s speaker put it, God in a bod.

I ended up at Chick-fil-A, enjoying the night air and my own thoughts. And a grilled chicken sandwich, too. It was as close to perfection as this side of heaven allows.