Saturday, February 28, 2015

Trinity UCC Lenten Devotional 2015 Saturday, February 28, 2015 by Joe Kirk


SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 28Th:                                                   Joe Kirk

Scripture:

Psalms 63:2

Glory Of Go

Those Who Sa
Thus I have seen You in the sanctuary, To see Your power and Your glory.

 
 
Reflection:

To some the thought of cooking a big meal is a nightmare but for me, that is not the case. Cooking for me has been and is my heaven. It brings me peace, joy and love all the same time. It is not just about creating the perfect meal but the memories of learning to cook from the most joyous and happy cook I know and that is my mom. She has been a professional cook for a catering company for more than 45 years and truly enjoyed every minute she cooked and instilled that joy in me. This poem is for her.

Kitchen Harmony

 
 


You taught me to cook at an early age

Long before I wanted to

I decided for my own reasons

Just to be close to you..

 

Time with you was hard to get

Especially with 6 children…

But cooking with you gave us time together

That might have never been

 

To watch you stir was such a joy

Creating with such delight…

I wanted to cook dishes just like you

Because it felt so right…

 

Cooking became my safe place of refuge

Sweet peace and harmony…

Connecting with you and my soul

No better place to me…

 

I have nothing but pure joy within me when I cook

Because you taught me such a joy.

Prayer/Blessing:

To the God of many blessings, I thank you for the people in our lives who instill in us a talent and passion for things that continue to bring us joy. May we never lose that passion and always remember those who taught us and embrace them with Joy, Love and Excitement. In your name we pray.

 

Friday, February 27, 2015

Trinity UCC Lenten Devotional Friday, February 27, 2015 by Jodi Kirk


FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 27th:                                                           Jodi Lee Kirk

Scripture:

Psalms 73:16-17


UnderstandWhen I pondered to understand this, it was troublesome in my sight Until I came into the sanctuary of God; Then I perceived their end.

 
Quote:

“I am slowly, painfully discovering that my refuge is not found in my mother, my grandmother, of even the birds of Bear River. My refuge exists in my capacity to love. If I can learn to love death then I can begin to find refuge in change.”
Terry Tempest Williams, Refuge: An Unnatural History of Family and Place

Poem:

Poem # 3 (by Terri Jean Gelzer)

Saint Brigid come,

With mops and brooms in hand.

Welcome.

What wonders a little soapy water can do.

I love the smell of clean.

I miss Saturday morning routines.

Rituals remembered.

Spring came every Saturday morning.

The sacred scouring of sinks.

Dishes dunked in baptismal waters.

Everything made new.

Windows sparkled to let the light shine through.

The house danced.

 
Prayer:

Dear God, wash away my worries and my woes Scrub clean my feelings of unworthiness. Rub away doubt and fear so that I can let my light shine through. Help me radiate the wonder and power of your healing grace and simmering love.

Reflection:

On my bedside table sits a picture of me and my mom.  It is one of the few photos that I have of both us and the only one that I have of me as a young child.  As the youngest of five, early on you learn that somehow the documentation of your milestones as compared to those of your other siblings, particularly those of your eldest sister, are practically nonexistent.  Unfortunately, I think the lack of photographic evidence of my early years is also due to family circumstances…you see, my dad walked out on my mom and his five children the Thanksgiving before I turned two.

The picture of my mom and a very little me was probably taken not even a month later, our first Christmas without my dad.  I am in a beige footed sleeper with one hand holding onto – ironically – a plastic, toy vacuum and the other resting ever so gently on my mom’s leg.  Mom is wearing a worn chenille robe, not the faded plush forest green one of my early memories…the one with the big round buttons and the Peter Pan collar with parts so thin you could see through them … but an aqua one that feels strangely familiar.  It is not the traditional Polaroid that seems to capture the joyous rapture of an almost two year old on Christmas morning, but rather a somewhat somber snap shot of what must have been a very difficult day and an impossibly hard holiday.

My mom looks like a ghost, rail thin and so very pale. The only color, other than the blue of the robe which perfectly matched the huge aqua polka dots on the living room curtains, is the red lipstick that my mom managed to put on her lips ... a shade of red that matched the color and seemed as plastic as the shiny finish of my brand new vacuum.

A toy vacuum? Ohhh the irony! Among the many qualities that I wish I had inherited from my mom, her cleaning gene is one that I often long for the most. As I look at piles of laundry,  and stacks of dishes piled  in the sink and shoes, toys, papers and extraneous clutter strewn about my too well lived in house, I often wonder what my mom would think if she walked into messy but love soaked home.

Cleaning for my mom was both an art and a science.   It was her refuge. Windows glistened, floors were scrubbed bright, cobwebs and dust bunnies never stood a chance.  Glasses were washed, dried and put away before finishing the last sip.  And, when she came home from work, the house was expected to be spotless.

I can remember many a night when I, being the youngest, was sent up the street to meet my mom at the bus stop as decoy.  My brothers and sisters knew that I could charm and stall and add a few precious minutes to her walk home after a long tiring day at work, Anything to buy a little more time to get things “just right” … to finish dinner, set the table and make sure the sinks were perfectly scoured.

Cleaning was an everyday thing at the Maile house but on Saturday mornings it was a sacred ritual. We all had jobs to do. We would put albums, mostly old show tunes, on the record player and soon we’d be singing and dancing with dust rags and brooms in hand.  The house began to sing and we began to shine … again.

Cleaning was a salvation of sorts.  It put order in a world that no longer made sense.  It was palpable evidence that the mess of dad’s disappearance, the mess that never really got talked about or examined, was somehow taken care of.

I look at the picture on my bedside table. My mom endured. She prevailed.  She thrived. Her strength and determination to put her best face forward – literally – never fails to astound. She had five kids to raise and provide for. Together we created home. We took care of the house and each other. I look at my mom’s face in that picture – far older than her 33 years - and cannot help but wonder at the wounds that never healed. I look at my tiny hands clutching the hard plastic handle of that little red vacuum and holding onto the soft worn chenille of my mom’s aqua robe and know that somehow I became a bridge.  Her fierce and abiding love for each of us helped her move forward and all of us cross over. Other Christmas photos are not so somber. There is so much joy….so much laughter…so much LIFE even though the wrappings of packages were immediately taken care of so as not to mess up the floor.


 
Writing Prompts:

·         “Salvation comes through…”

·         “I hide behind my…”

·         “Second chances only happen when…”

 

 
Blessing:

May the healing power of Christ’s love cleanse and renew our sagging spirits. Help us experience a sense of renewal and possibility even when our burdens are great and darkness overwhelms us.

Thursday, February 26, 2015

Trinity UCC Lenten Devotional February 26, 2015

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 26th:                                                   

Nancy Boorman


Scripture:
1 Kings 19: 11-13

Quotes:
Each of us has an inner room where we can visit to be cleansed of fear-based thoughts and feelings. This room, the holy of holies, is a sanctuary of light.
Marianne Williamson

Prayer:
Oh God, help me care for myself so that I may care for others.  Help me turn down the volume of all the noise that prevents me from listening to the sometimes too quiet whisper of my heart and respond to your guidance.


Reflection:
So often as a student minister I felt like Elijah, so very zealous for the Lord. Earnestly working, diligently persevering through sleepy days, difficult situations and life split between seminary, family, and my new found church family. All of who seemed to need every ounce of me, which of course I was more than willing to give. Wasn’t that what I was supposed to do? God had called me, so I was answering, and this was what was needed, to pour myself fully out to the last drop. I took no Sabbath rest nor time to reenergize my zeal for the Lord, I just kept giving. Just as Christ felt a portion of power leave him when the woman touched his robe in the streets of the city as he walked amongst the crowds I too felt my energy draining. I did not heed the warnings signs nor did I slow my pace. If anything I frantically picked up the pace. An acute lack of self-care lead me to the brink of collapsing and to a wakeup call for refuge and sanctuary for my own self.
I was the Elijah of verse 9 in the book of 1 Kings, full of zeal for the Lord. However, now it was time to be the Elijah of the cave, waiting for the still small voice of the Lord, the gentle breeze. You see in my frantic need to be poured out I had drowned out the voice which filled me to the brim for the work I was called to. I stood in the wind, in the earthquake and in the fire and then had no stillness within me to stand at the door and feel the gentle breeze and the whisper of the Almighty.
Looking back it was a short coming on my part that I am glad I learned about early in my career. In our fast pace culture that thrives on busyness and effort we ALL to often forget to seek refuge from the noise and clutter we call life. We feel it is selfish to place our need for sanctuary and refuge above our To-Do-List. It’s not selfish, it’s necessary. We must rest if we wish to finish the race. We must seek refuge if we wish to endure the storms that lie in wait for us. We must take sanctuary for our bodies, and souls. Gratefully I have learned to rest my mind and still my body so I may hear the gentle breeze and re fill my well with what is needed to continue my journey. Gratefully I seek refuge, some times in a day, an hour or a minute that I can steal away from the rush of life and be still and know my God.
Have you taken a deep breath today? I mean a truly deep breath that fills you followed by a long exhale that calms your body and mind? Can you carve out a portion for refuge and sanctuary? The Lord is waiting for you, will you follow the gentle breeze and still small voice?


Writing Prompts:
·         “In order to take care of others, I must first…”
·         “When I close my eyes, and take a deep breathe I feel…”


Blessing:

Bless the care takers.  Give them time for rest and renewal. Provide sources to restore their spirits and lighten their burdens so they can better serve, teach, feed, clothe, heal, counsel, minister and provide for those in their care.

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Trinity UCC Lenten Devotional February 25, 2015 by Jodi Kirk

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 25th:                                                            Jodi Lee Kirk
Scripture:
Jeremiah 17:12
A glorious throne on high from the beginning is the place of our sanctuary

Poem:
When I heard the Learn’d Astronomer (by Walt Whitman)
When I heard the learn’d astronomer;

When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me;

When I was shown the charts and the diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them;

When I, sitting, heard the astronomer, where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room,

How soon, unaccountable, I became tired and sick;
Till rising and gliding out, I wander’d off by myself,

In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,

Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.


Quote:
“....my sacred landscape is the foothills of the stars - I go there often to sleep ...”
John Geddes, A Familiar Rain


Prayer:
Open my eyes so that I may see the sacred in the most ordinary of extraordinary moments. Help me savor the wonder and mystery of “now”.  Lord, help me let go of the constant need to get things done, to check off another box on my “do list”.  Release me from the frantic busy energy that seems to shape so much of my day. Remind me to take time to close my eyes and shut off the voices in my head, to breathe in the perfect quiet of your calming and grace filled presence.

Reflection:
My Summer Oasis 
 
            We do not have a real back yard. We do not have a wraparound porch … or a deck … or a patio, but when spring settles in and the promise of summer is just around the corner our driveway goes under a divine transformation. The long runway of black pavement becomes an oasis, a sanctuary of sorts and my beloved refuge.

            On the first truly hot day – oh how I long for that moment during this ridiculous and seemingly endless frigid and oh so bleak February – the boys will inevitably beg for their water table. No matter that they are almost 10 or that the once too tall blue plastic table is barely waist high, they demand that it be filled to the brim. Small plastic action figures take daring dives as Xavier and Gabriel splash and play. Soon the pavement beckons. It is the perfect canvas. Soon we are laying on the now warm pavement, sketching and drawing, filling the space with words and images in chalk that when pressed too hard turns into multicolored dust. Magic.

            The bird feeder needs bird seed. Big red and black pots are calling for fresh soil and new plants and flowers. We plant colorful marigolds and peonies, a symphony of red and gold with splashes of deep purple and vibrant fushia.

            Next comes my oasis. A canvas gazebo that provides shelter and shade from the soon to be blistering heat of the summer sun. Deck chairs with bright red cushions anchor each corner.  Pillows with images of sunflowers are lovingly placed on each chair. A low square table finds its rightful place in the center of my outside home.  We pull out a square plastic dining table with matching chairs and put the large umbrella – also fiery red – in the center hole. The transformation is almost complete. Two wooden Adirondack chairs are placed at the far end of the drive. A few other mismatched chairs are added to create the perfect gathering space around a small but oh so inviting fire pit.

            This is my summer sanctuary. In the early morning before the world is fully awake I sit at the table – journal in hand – and take that perfect first sip of coffee and soak in the wonder and mystery of  the sun rising as a light breeze brushes my face. It is quiet but not completely still. I watch the birds flit from feeder to the twins’ blazingly blue water table that they have claimed as their own.  Impossibly bold squirrels and chipmunks stop and stare as they feast on left over seeds and nuts that have spilled on the ground.

            Mid day I find myself drifting back to my canopy, lured by the comfort of an inviting cushion and the words and images of a book that never seems to get finished. I long to lose myself in story and character but am pulled away by the giggles and/or arguments of my boys. I am distracted by the whoosh of a scooter or yet another plea to come play, or get them something to eat

            The early evening air is perfumed by the smell of the grill. Joe is in his element. I am inside – screen door open – setting the table and ferrying supplies as I listen to jovial banter and the sound of his voice singing one of his favorite tunes.

            Evening falls and the boys are tucked in bed.  Once again, I wander outside. Tiki torches are lit as the older kids, Joe and I gather around the fire pit to play a game of cards and talk – about everything and nothing at all. I bask in the glow of the dying embers and the moonlight streaming down.  I give thanks as I look up to count the stars and my many, many blessings.

Writing Prompts:
·         “When I give myself permission to reflect, I…”
·         “I feel most connected to God when I…”
·         “Staring at the stars on a cloudless night, I wonder…”

Blessing:

May each of us experience the tranquility and peace that comes with a cleansing breathe and a recognition of the beauty that surrounds us … the mystery of the stars at night, the healing sound of a child’s laughter, the goodness of a stranger, the smile of a loved one, the wonder of a gentle breeze on a hot summer’s day. Soak in peace and mindfulness and allow the sense of what is possible to radiate from you and bleed into the too rushed and often impersonal events that are packed into the day. 

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Trinity UCC Devotion for February 24, 2015 Sanctuary and refuge

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 24th:                                                       Suzanne Feltner


Scripture:    Psalm 46:10     Be still and know I am God


Prayer:
Thank you, Heavenly Creator, for allowing me a way to focus my mind on you and what you want to think about. Thank you that in times of struggle and trials, I can remember that you are indeed God and to be still and wait for you to show me the way.


'Reflection:

One of the things I find refuge in is knitting. With the hustle and bustle of life, the simple repetition of working with yarn and knitting needles is a great way to help me clear my thoughts, pray, and then let God’s love, mercy, forgiveness and guidance flow over me, much like the yarn flowing through my fingers. As the stitches multiply and the fabric it creates grows, I am able to find peace and a sense of calm, as I am finally able to be still and know God is indeed there.

Monday, February 23, 2015

Trinity UCC Lenten Devotion February 23, 2015

TRINITY DEVOTIONS – SANCTUARY & REFUGE
Week # 2
MONDAY, FEBRUARY 23rd:                                                                    Xavier Kirk
Scripture:
Psalms 91:2  
I will say to the LORD, "My refuge and my fortress, My God, in whom I trust!"
Quote:
Life is a love story, with every character yearning for permanent refuge in someone's heart.”
-  Richelle E Goodrich
Poem:
Poem 11 (by Terri Jean Gelzer)
           My soul seeks a sanctuary,
            not found in most churches,
            a quiet space,
            a resting place.
            Silence and solace
            sprinkled with grace.
            Love practiced not preached,
            silent sermons so to speak.
            The whisper of an anthem.
            The heartbeat of a prayer.
            A life worn with patches,
            stitched together with care.
            Hope is present.
            Joy is there.
            I know I find it sometimes
            but not always sure where.
Prayer:
Lord, prepare me to be a sanctuary. Let my love be a refuge to those struggling in the storm. Let my smile provide solace to those who feel unsure and unworthy.  Let my words and actions serve as a balm for those who are hurting and are seeking the warmth of your love and grace. You are my strength and refuge, let me reflect your light so that I can be a living sanctuary to you.



Reflection:

Love … the perfect haven                         

The concepts of refuge and sanctuary are difficult to cultivate and own, they are also surprisingly hard to define. When I asked Xavier - my 9 year old philosopher - what refuge meant to him, he looked bewildered. I tried to explain what refuge and sanctuary meant to me which only seemed to complicate the matter. Finally, I asked “Where is the place that you are the happiest?”  Without hesitation or further prompting, he replied “Here.”
“Here,” I asked, “you mean the dining room?”.  “No, " he sheepishly replied , “…here.”  He gestured with a sweeping hand that included the rest of the house. My heart swelled. I smiled and asked “Why?”  He thought for a bit and then said “because, you know  ... the love .. mom …the love”.  While my heart skipped a beat as I soaked in the wonder and profundity of what he just shared, Xavier skipped away from the dining room table and began playing with his action figures. Batman never gets time off.
Writing Prompts:
·         Home is…
·         When I was little I used to believe…
·         Love sounds like…
Blessing:

May the love of God shape us, sustain us and make us whole.  Our home, our refuge, our sanctuary is …here…with you.

Saturday, February 21, 2015

Trinity UCC Lent 2015 Devotional February 21, 2015




The Wilderness of Shame
by Kevan Franklin

Some of you have made the journey to Cleveland's Tremont neighborhood to see the house where the Classic Christmas Movie, "A Christmas Story" was filmed. The movie contains one of my favorite movie quotes.  It comes toward the end, at the point where little Ralphie is knocked down by a BB ricochet fulfilling the prophecies of his teacher, his mother, his friends and yes, even Santa Claus. It seems to summarize the whole point of the movie.

"Oh, life is like that. Sometimes, at the height of our revelries, when our joy is at its zenith, when all is most right with the world, the most unthinkable disasters descend upon us."
- A Christmas Story Ralphie as an adult narrating his most memorable Christmas.

The Wilderness of shame, embarrassment and public humiliation is one of our greatest fears.

That quote reminds me of the story in John 2:1-11  when Jesus turns water into wine at a wedding in Cana.

Two days later Jesus’ mother was a guest at a wedding in the village of Cana in Galilee,  and Jesus and his disciples were invited. The wine supply ran out during the festivities, and Jesus’ mother came to him with the problem. “I can’t help you now,” he said. “It isn’t my time for miracles.” But his mother told the servants, “Do whatever he tells you to.”
Six stone water jars were standing there; they were used for Jewish ceremonial purposes and held perhaps twenty to thirty gallons each. Jesus told the servants to fill them to the brim with water. When this was done he said, “Dip some out and take it to the master of ceremonies.” When the master of ceremonies tasted the water that was now wine, not knowing where it had come from (though, of course, the servants did), he called the bridegroom over.
 “This is wonderful!” he said. “You’re different from most people. Usually a host uses the best wine first, and afterwards, when everyone is full and doesn’t care, then he brings out the less expensive brands. But you have kept the best for last!” This miracle at Cana in Galilee was Jesus’ first public demonstration of his heaven-sent power. And his disciples believed that he really was the Messiah.

John has been called the “Maverick Gospel” because he tells the story of Jesus in a completely different way than Matthew, Mark and Luke.  John’s stories of Jesus reflect the Good Shepherd, who searches out and blesses the outcasts and those who have been shamed and shunned by the world.  The Gospel of John begins with Jesus’ first public action to take quick, anonymous action to save a young couple from embarrassment at their wedding reception. Nearly everyone has a story about a wedding mishap.  We all have embarrassing moments in the midst of our greatest expectations. Public embarrassment is a wilderness!

When our joy is at its zenith, when all is most right with the world, the most unthinkable disasters descend upon us.

 “They didn’t order enough wine, they deserve to be embarrassed.”
Where do you hear that line of thinking in today’s world?  It seems that whenever anyone suffers a misfortune, people try to explain it away by saying  “It’s their own fault."  or "They should have planned better” or “They should have been in a different place.” or some other such statement. It's scary to live in a world where our fortunes can change so quickly. We guard ourselves with the comfortable belief that if something bad happened to someone it was because they made a mistake.  In Jesus' day, people born blind, women who were unable to have children, lepers, and anyone who suffered from physical or mental disabilities were shamed and shunned.  They had a simple answer;  "It was their own fault."  

The prophets Joel and Amos declared that when the Messiah comes there would be an abundance of wine (Joel 3:18 and Amos 9:13). The prophets declared that the mountains would drip with sweet wine when God’s anointed king showed up, the symbol  of wine  that we use in our celebration of Holy Communion. This Lent, remember that we are followers of  a man who risked the ultimate public embarrassment of being hanged on a cross for the sake of his friends!  Our Faith is not about making ourselves look good at the expense of others.  Following Jesus is certainly not about looking respectable! Our faith is about risking looking bad in order to be a blessing to others. The world is full of people who try to make others look bad.

Look away? Blame them? Laugh at their inability to handle the situation?  Magnify their embarrassment by spreading word of their incompetence and misfortune?

As part of the recovery process, AA suggests that you; Do three good things for someone else and you can’t tell anyone what you did and if you tell, you have to do three more.  Remember Jesus’ blessing was anonymous!
We need people in our lives who know what to do when the wine runs out.
As we sing in the song, They’ll know we are Christians by our love”;
“To Guard each ones dignity and save each one’s pride”.

"When our joy is at its zenith, when all is most right with the world, the most unthinkable disasters descend upon us."

What will we do when we see a friend’s misfortune? Think: Parable of the Good Samaritan.

The church is not about our own Respectability---the church is about risking humiliation in order to bring grace and healing into the world.

What will you do the next time the wine runs out?

Prayer
Jesus, my friend, we thank you for teaching us about your ways through your parables and actions. We intend to follow your example, fully grasp your love for us, and enjoy our heavenly wedding reception.  Give us courage to invite others to know the joys of your blessing.   Amen