Resonant moments run deep within me of times at the lake growing up in West Texas.  Beyond the buoyancy that instills trust in letting go of control, I learned to appreciate the transitory nature of water in a dry land where it can never be taken for granted.  Sometimes that vast expanse of natural lake could be ankle deep in certain places, with little warning except the rudder of my slalom ski getting stuck in the mud.

I suppose more than anything, it was about family connecting in ways too wondrous for daily schedules and routines.  And then, it was about freedom to find one’s truest self in risking adventure beyond boundaries.  The lake had several finger-like tributaries for exploration and unexpected critters.  For me, it was all loads of fun!

So, I am curious now.  As I sit still long enough to allow my heart to go deep into the well that holds sacred the buried treasure of old memories, I must ask, “Why did the ‘puppy prints’ surface first?….or even at all?”  My Dad had decided to lay the tile floor himself at the lake house. He had traveled to Mexico to haul a horse trailer full of beautiful terra cotta tiles across the border and half the state of Texas.  That sort of escapade was more normal for him than normal people!

Ah, here is my treasured memory moment…We were both on our hands and knees, and sometimes flat on our bellies, laying this tile.  Everyone in town knew that the perfectionism it took to be an excellent doctor also played out in every task my Dad undertook.  As his oldest child, I understood it well.  I was his “right hand man”, and I loved every minute of helping him.  It was an honor and a challenge.  This specific memory takes place on the area of floor just outside the bathroom.  We had discovered that some of the tiles had puppy paw prints on them.  So my Dad carefully arranged them to make a trail leading into the bathroom.  We laughed together as we planned this serendipitous experience for future travelers.

 

So, out of a multitude of memories, why the “puppy prints”?  Was it lying on our bellies with our noses to the ground perfectly putting a path in place, our fingers touching oh so close?  Was it the liberating whimsical nature of my fun-loving father? Was it the image of his hands, so carefully guiding something that needs the security of being put correctly into place, making all the pieces come together, wholeheartedly completed?

Here is what I would conclude….Make sure you don’t miss a “puppy print” kind of moment!

nk

 

 

Suddenly it is close, a flicker of yellow dancing about, flittering in and out of view, playfully trying to capture my attention.  I see you little butterfly!  Are you flirting with me?  Do you want to play?  Do you once again have something to show me as you entice me into a deeper knowing?

I have arrived at Rivendell Writers Colony once again.  Such a gift of grace that the yellow butterfly is sent to welcome at the threshold of this sacred place.  The sky is clearly blue.  The daffodils are in bloom by the side of the gravel road at the edge of the forest. The trees bare with budding tips, are anxiously ready to burst into greenness.  Popcorn blossoms twinkle in the afternoon sun like baby’s breath.  There is a stillness in the air, a silence which holds a gentle breeze.  All is ready for spring to bring a new beginning, a new birth.

 

I remember the day I left Montgomery Church.  Yellow paper butterflies hung from the ceiling, down hallways, everywhere, with wishes from the children. A new stole to wear with my clergy robe portrayed a fullness of yellow butterflies to invite me to remember always as the note embroidered inside said, “We love you”.

 

Two days ago, as I donned the stole once again to lead worship on Easter Sunday, I remembered with joy and thanksgiving as I whispered, “I love you too!”, hoping they might hear. Perhaps a yellow butterfly would carry the message.

Today I sit on the back deck, yellow butterflies all around me…

Two of them are dancing here close, off to play hide and seek, then dance again!

It is all a gift of grace!

Pondering…

Have you experienced a gift of nature lately?

SURPRISE ENDING…Look who just came close

nk

 

It’s Easter Day!!  What we discover on this glorious day is an unexpected surprise…

No, wait….the bigger surprise…Jesus, whom we thought had died and was gone forever, is now alive!  He has risen from the dead!

 

(Drawing is “The Resurrection of Christ” by Michaelangelo, 1525)

Ah, not only did Resurrection happen on that one day, Life was set free in such a way that Resurrection happens everywhere, everyday, in amazingly incredible ways.

 

Jesus said, “I am the light of the world” (John 8:12).  He also said, “You are the light of the world”

That light born on Christmas Eve has now burst forth out of the dark tomb and exploded into the hearts of all humanity for all eternity.  Our question comes from the hymn “He Lives” by Alfred H. Ackley, 1933.  “You ask me how I know he lives?”  And the answer is, “He lives within my heart!”. By the grace of God, we KNOW Jesus is alive because he has come to live inside our own heart.

On Palm Sunday I was with my grandchildren.  Travis, age 3, had been told the Easter story in his Sunday School Class. He brought what he had made with him in the car…

All the way home he was telling the story…Mary saw Jesus alive on Easter morning.  She ran to tell the good news, “I’ve seen the Lord!”. Then, by rotating the top paper plate, Travis rolled the stone away to show “Jesus is alive!”.  He then began to softly say a prayer to Jesus.  I listened carefully and heard the closing words, “Jesus, I love you.  Amen”

“You ask me how I know he lives?  He lives within my heart!”

Pondering…

What have you experienced that makes you know Jesus lives in your heart?

How has Christ been present for you in this Journey of Lent?

Happy Easter dear friend!  It has been a joy to share this time with you.  I’ll be writing more this week as I travel to Tennessee for a writer’s retreat.

nk

 

 

It is Friday, the day of Jesus’ crucifixion and death upon the cross.  His blood was shed for the forgiveness of our sins.  Our question for this day is the hymn, “Were You There?”, an Afro-American spiritual adapted and arranged by William Farly Smith, 1986.  The paintings below depict the question asked in each stanza of the hymn…

“Were you there when they crucified my Lord?”

This painting is “Crucifixion” by Matthias Gruenewald from the Isenheim Altarpiece (ca.1515).  Note the lamb present holding the cross and chalice.  The “sacrificial lamb”, previously slaughtered to atone for sin, is now being replaced by the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the whole world.  Perhaps the lamb might be the one who truly understands all of this! He seems to have his eyes focused on the blood dripping from the feet of Jesus.

“Were you there when they nailed him to the tree?”

“Christ Is Nailed to the Cross” by Giambattista Tiepolo, (1749).  The crowd present here seems to be such a variety of people. Notice the dramatic sky!

“Were you there when they pierced him in the side?”

A stark and stylized scene painted by Fra Angelico entitled “Crucifixion with Virgin, Soldier Longinus, and Saints” (1438). The focus is the soldier piercing Christ’s side and the dripping blood. The simplicity of the painting seems to make those two things more blatant.

“Were you there when the sun refused to shine?”

“Descent from the Cross” by Rembrandt, (1634).  From noon until 3:00 p.m. there was darkness over all the land when Jesus cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” He cried out again in a loud voice and yielded up his spirit.        (Matthew 27:45-50).  Here Jesus is obviously the Light of the World!

“Were you there when they laid him in the tomb?”

“The Entombment of Christ” by Titian, (ca.1566). This just feels so real to me. How beautiful is the loving care with which they carry the body of Christ! The angel is present to comfort.

“Were you there?”  Tonight I went to church to receive the Last Supper.  I wanted to experience the passion of Christ, especially on this holy night.  I knelt at the altar, a piece of bread was placed in my hand, then the chalice was offered by a friend who had traveled to Greece with me.  Our hands touched as she offered the juice representing the blood of Christ poured out for us.  I dipped my bread into the cup and dropped it.  My instant reaction without thinking was to quickly retrieve the bread, so into the cup went my fingers, I pulled it out, fully dripping, held my head back, and lowered it into my mouth.  She smiled gently at me.  Oh my gosh…in all my years of serving communion I have never seen anyone do that!  They drop it, but I quickly give them another piece.  I bowed my head, folded my hands together to pray, and felt the wetness of the juice all over my fingers.  I kept gently rubbing my fingers together to feel the wetness.  For me, in that moment, I was touching the blood of Christ.  I felt it, and it was beautiful! What I felt more deeply was that I not only tasted, but I had touched.  I was there!  I was present at the cross, touching the blood of Christ poured out for me.  I don’t think I have ever felt like I was present at the crucifixion in the way I felt it tonight.  It was a gift! It was a moment I will never forget!

Pondering….

I invite you to spend some time this Holy Friday experiencing the last day in the life of Christ.  Choose one of the pictures, or let it choose you.  Put yourself into the scene.  What about the painting stirs you?  How is God present?  Write a sentence or two about what you experienced.

I’ll be back on Easter Morning!

nk

 

 

---

 

Jesus was arrested and sent by the chief priests and elders to Pilate the Governor, who questioned him and found no guilt.

“Christ Before Pilate” by Tintoretto, (1566-67)

It was the custom for Pilate to release to the crowd any one prisoner they wanted.  He placed before them Barabbas, a notorious prisoner, and Jesus.  Then he asked them whom they wanted released.  The crowd chose Barabbas.  So Pilate then asked, “What shall I do with Jesus who is called Christ?” (Matthew 27:20)

“Christ Presented to the People” by Quentin Massys (ca. 1515)

The crowd cried, “Let him be crucified!”.  Pilate asked, “Why, what evil has he done?”.  They shouted all the more, “LET HIM BE CRUCIFIED!”.  Pilate feared a riot might begin, so he washed his hands before the crowd saying, “I am innocent of this man’s blood.”

Then he scourged Jesus and delivered him to be crucified.

 

If we were to put ourselves into this scene, where might we be? …in the crowd, caught up in the roar of the masses?  How often are we influenced by the strong majority and swept up in an incredulous movement, even in something we may not know that much about.  Or there is fear of bucking the system.

Or perhaps we know what is right and could make a difference, but our voice remains silent.  We choose to wash our hands of any involvement and move on with our lives.  Or we hide out somewhere with the disciples, fearing we might get hurt in this whole ordeal.

Or maybe we never even went to Jerusalem at all that day.  Were we too busy?…didn’t want to get too close, uncomfortable?…oblivious?  The question from the hymn echoes in our mind and heart…”Were you there when they crucified my Lord?”  This writing is from “The Journey to Jerusalem” by Macrina Wiederkehr…

Pondering…

Where might you find yourself in this story?

Have you ever “washed your hands” of something?

nk

As Jesus prepares to face his death on the cross, he goes with his disciples to the Garden of Gethsemane to pray.

“Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane” by Heinrick Hofmann, 1890.  (This was given to my mother on her second birthday by her Sunday School teacher.)

Jesus says to his disciples,  “My soul is very sorrowful, even to death; remain here and watch with me.”  Jesus then goes a little farther, falls on his face, and struggles desperately with his own human desires and the will of his Heavenly Father. He returns to find the disciples sleeping and asks, “Could you not watch with me for one hour?” (Matthew 26:40)

Jesus needed the presence of his close friends and companions in ministry.  He needed their support, their devotion, their strength.  He needed them to “KEEP WATCH” with him!  I wonder what the tone of his voice was…frustration?…disappointment?.. loneliness?…despair?…deep sadness?  I wonder.

What might “keeping watch” with Jesus mean for us today?  When I think about my own life, my ministry, it seems the most meaningful and profound moments are those when I was simply “present” with and for someone, praying for them, holding them in some way in their time of need.

Moments like these were the joy of my life, and for me they were what it means to “keep watch” with Jesus.

Pondering….

What might “keeping watch” with Jesus look like for you?

Are we feeling a little sleepy? Sacked out??

nk

 

 

Jesus had shared the Last Supper with his disciples, then washed their feet. Finally his troubled spirit led him to say, “One of you will betray me!”.  The disciples all looked at each other, wondering, questioning, “Lord, who is it?” (John 13:25).  In the same chapter, Peter says to Jesus, “I will lay down my life for you!”.  Jesus replies, “Truly…you will deny me three times before the rooster crows.”

Betrayal and denial…we are all a part of it!  As Paul says in Romans 3:23, “…for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”  Yet, the disciples are all shocked and asking, “Who is it?”…”Is it I?”

“Surely it’s not ME!”

“Would you betray me with a kiss?”

“The Taking of Christ” by Caravaggio, (1602)

Judas sold out for 30 pieces of silver, ran away, and hung himself.  Peter stayed and became a leader in the church, realizing and claiming his need for a Savior.

When I was on a mission trip to Africa, the people of the church there graciously provided our lunch each day on the work site.  It always consisted of a sandwich and a banana in a brown paper sack.  I always ate the banana, but the meat turned the bread orange and I was afraid it would make me sick.  I would pretend to eat the sandwich, but would inconspicuously push the meat down with my finger, then take a bite of bread.  I would continue this until I was close to the bottom, then shove all the meat and what was left of the bread into the paper bag, pretending I was finished.  One day as we were all eating on the bus, the lady from the church gathered up our brown paper bags.  Apparently we had all done the same thing and she knew it.  She opened up the doors of the bus and began to toss the bags out to the children who were gathered outside of the bus…

The children all ran and scrambled for the leftover meat that was in the paper bags.  They began stuffing it into their hungry mouths while we sat in shame watching from the bus.  I felt like I had betrayed.  “Who is it Lord?”…”Is it I?”

Sometimes we get it, and sometimes we don’t, but we are all a part of it in some way.  We are all in need of a Savior.

Pondering…

Is there anything you would do over again if you could?

How might you express your need for the saving grace Jesus brings?

nk

We begin this Holy Week, the last week of Jesus’ life on earth.  Jesus is trying to prepare his disciples for what will come.  In John 16:16, Jesus tells them that in “a little while”  they will see him no longer, and again ” in a little while they will see him.”  In our Journey of Lent, we enter the scene and listen to Jesus as we experience  ourselves this last week on earth. What happens in this last week is crucial to our own faith journey, and our understanding of the Christian Faith.  We can’t just  accept it at face value; we can’t just experience it as we always have.  We must be open to receive it afresh, with all the power it contains to transform lives into the glory of eternity.  So, here we are, the disciples…Jesus is trying to say “Goodbye”….Oh so hard for Jesus to leave those whom he loves so dearly!  And we get it on some level, as we think about the most difficult “goodbye” we have experienced yet.

After three years of a battle with cancer, Mom’s “goodbye” was near.  There was very little communication now.  We were all waiting, knowing what was coming.  We thought we were finally ready, but maybe we weren’t.  Someone from my church called, “Have you told her it is OK for her to go?”.  Well, I am not sure, but she knows how I feel.  We are so close.  She knows!!  But have I told her?    That night she sat in that big, comfy reclining chair, seeming so distant.  She was surrounded and embraced by my Dad, my sister, and me.  We were remembering and laughing, when suddenly my laughter turned into sobbing as I sat at her feet.  Her piercing eyes looked straight at me, through me, as if to say, “Are you OK?”  I looked into her beautiful eyes and said, “It’s OK, Momma, you can go”…and she died that night.  From that moment on, I felt her spirit was released from her body to be present with me wherever I would go.  In the midst of deep sorrow, it was a new sort of joy!

Jesus, trying to say “Goodbye” to his disciples, is letting them know that ” in a little while” they will see him again and they will be with him forever in fullness of joy!   Today I said “Goodbye” to my grandchildren and said to them that I would see them again “in a little while” .  What does that mean? ….hours, days, weeks, months, years, centuries?  None of us know really.  But, the time will come when we are all in eternity together and it will truly be a fullness of joy!

My grandson and I were sharing his first ride on an escalator.  He is my youngest.  Who knows how much of his life I will get to share on earth.  But we will be together in eternity in “just a little while”.  And we will know all the joy you see in our faces right here!

This morning in worship while visiting grandchildren in Atlanta, I experienced that fullness of joy as all the choirs, including the children, sang “Hosanna to the King”. .

Pondering…

What does “in a little while” mean to you?

How do you picture all the “fullness of joy?”

nk

This was the drawing I did for the cover of the bulletin for my Mom’s Memorial Service in 1983.

Palm Sunday will be this coming Sunday.  It is one of my favorite days!  I love the joyful celebration of the waving of palm branches and the crowds of people who have laid down their cloaks to make a path for Jesus riding a donkey into Jerusalem.  They shout, “Hosanna”, which means “Save us!”  He is their King!

The crowd sees it as a victory celebration.  “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.”  Jesus has planned the whole grand entry, sending his disciples ahead to get the donkey.  Prophecy is being fulfilled…”Your king is coming to you, humble and mounted on a donkey.” (Zechariah 9:9).  When Jesus entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred up asking, “WHO IS THIS?”  (Matthew 21:10).  Ah, something for us to note…Jesus comes STIRRING EVERYTHING UP.  The expected picture of a king coming in victory would be more like a knight in shining armor, mounted on a big white horse.  Jesus has turned the picture upside down by riding humbly on an unexpected donkey!

Painting by artist Meg Harper

The drama unfolds as the events of the passion of Holy Week take place.  Jesus is arrested and stands before Pilate wearing a crown of thorns.

Pilate asks the question, “So, you are a king?” (John 18:37).  Jesus says he has come to bear witness to the truth.  Pilate then asks what is perhaps the most profound question of all,  “WHAT IS TRUTH?”.

A king on a donkey, a crown of thorns, victory on a cross, life through death, and the REAL KING says, “My Kingdom is not of this world.”  It seems to me as we enter this last week of our Journey of Lent, we ought to expect that somewhere along the way, the truth will not be what we expected.  But Jesus came to bear witness to the truth, and he says, “You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free!” (John 8:32).  Let us keep our hearts and minds open to receiving the truth.  Is the Jesus I know now the Jesus that I used to know?  Is the Jesus yet to be revealed to me the Jesus I expect him to be? …”So, you are a King??”  Come, Lord Jesus, Come!  Bring the truth!

Pondering…

Can you and I be open to truth yet to be revealed to us this Holy Week?

Watch, listen, expect the unexpected.  Have a wonderful Palm Sunday!

nk

After supper with his disciples, Jesus got up from the table, poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet.  He came to Peter who asked the question, “Lord, do you wash my feet?” (John 13:6).  Jesus said that Peter will understand all of this later, but Peter responds, “You shall never wash my feet!”

“Christ Washing the Apostles’ Feet” by Peter Paul Rubens, 1632

Jesus then says, “If I do not wash you, you have no part in me.”  Peter then says, “Lord, not my feet only, but also my hands and my head!”

Why would any of us opt out of the foot washing?

Do we not want to take off our shoes?

Do we think our feet don’t need to be washed?

Do we think we are not worthy of having Jesus wash our feet?  Is it too intimate?  Too close?  Too risky to be vulnerable and fully open to be loved?  Yet, this is our moment to be a part of Jesus….

It’s not about being perfect.  It’s all about letting ourselves be loved.

Pondering…

Read the poem once more.  What speaks to you?

You might try taking your shoes off sometime today and imagine Jesus washing your feet.  What are you thinking?  What are you feeling?

nk