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I spent a great deal of my career fighting battles. First of all, there was the battle of my ordination, which hurt me deeply for many months, hurt several friends and family, and harmed my home church. That led to battles regarding the prevailing thought on women as ministers of the Gospel. We took a lot of heat in those early days when I was one of only two ordained Baptist women in my state.

Then the incessant battles of funding a nonprofit agency took the soul out of me for over ten years. The constant struggle to keep our doors open was an unspeakable burden.

The many tragic battles on behalf of victims of violence took every ounce of energy I had. Victim blaming was rampant, and often the justice system designed to protect simply did not.

The battles within the family court system and the Division of Child Services on behalf of abused children left me bereft. I watched dozens of children court ordered to live with an abusive parent, and I watched the way it hurt their very being. The battle for children was never ending, and reached a climax when my entire staff was banned from court in one of our child cases.

And then there were the general haters. Everyone has a few. I had more than my share, and I let them get to me and hinder my work. There were simply far too many battles that had to be fought daily, a career full of them. At times, I felt that the universe had waged war against me

When I had to retire, I thought it was the worse day of my life. I now know it was the best thing that could have happened to me. If only I had known then what I know now about finding inner peace and serenity, I might have fared better.

Three times a day, Orthodox Jews pray, “Let my soul be silent to those who curse me; let my soul be as dust to all.” I should have prayed that prayer without ceasing. It would have made an enormous difference in my life.

These days, I am comforted by the peaceful and serene life I wish I had lived years ago. But that’s the past, over and done. Today is my day of peace and serenity, and for that I am most grateful to the Prince of Peace.

I am always energized by a golden autumn. I love the red, burgundy and orange foliage that emerges when the weather cools. But this year the leaves look more golden than I ever remember. And the shining of the sun takes on a particular golden hue that warms the heart.

Autumn brings opportunities to enjoy nature in very special ways . . . to watch the golden trees swaying in the breeze against bright blue skies . . . to feel the coolness in the fall air, to smell the burning of campfires and back yard fire pits . . . to hear the sound of silence, broken only by the sound of leaves blowing in the wind and crunching beneath your feet.

There is a need in all of us to rest and re-create in the arms of nature, contemplating all that is good in our lives and what lies ahead for us. Alan P. Trey writes that, “There is a contemplative in all of us, almost strangled but still alive, who craves quiet enjoyment of the Now and longs to touch the seamless garment of silence which makes us whole.”

The Bible says, “Be still, and know that I am God.” What a delight it is to be in the midst of a golden autumn while being still and silent before God. It is in this stillness that we find God’s presence. And it is in this stillness that we embrace the magnificent golden autumn, all the work of God’s hand.

Thanks be to God for the beauty that surrounds us.

The terrorist attacks in Paris have left thousands of people in places of fear. American leaders that are demanding to close their borders from refugees are acting from places of fear. Syrian families seeking refuge and safety are in places of fear.

The reality is that all of us often dwell in places of fear.

I love this quote by Parker Palmer:

We have places of fear inside of us, but we have other places as well—places with names like trust and hope and faith. We can choose to lead from one of those places, to stand on ground that is not riddled with the fault lines of fear, to move toward others from a place of promise instead of anxiety. As we stand in one of those places, fear may remain close at hand and our spirits may still tremble. But now we stand on ground that will support us, ground from which we can lead others toward a more trustworthy, more hopeful, more faithful way of being in the world.

May each of us recognize the places of fear inside us, pray for perfect love that casts out fear, and then find in our souls those places of trust, hope and faith. It’s the only way to live.

“I know you feel these are the worst of times. I do believe it’s true. When people lock their doors and hide inside, rumor has it it’s the end of Paradise.”

~ Styx “The Best of Times”

I hope that these times do not mark “the end of Paradise.” As a nation, as people of God, we are challenged with great need, with the task of offering refuge to persons who have no homes and no homeland. So many of you have posted eloquent and poignant words about accepting refugees into our country. There is so little left to say.

Although I may not agree with the decisions Governors have made regarding sheltering refugees, I am aware that the Governor of every state carries the weighty responsibility for the welfare of all the citizens. We should pray for them in these difficult days.

As the terrible events in Paris, Egypt and Lebanon remind us, we live in perilous times. Certainly, these times force us to a deeper understanding between the seemingly conflicting responses of security and compassion.

These are times when God’s people must be compassionate people, overflowing with mercy. Do we open our arms to Syrian refugees who are suffering in ways we cannot possibly understand?

The answer to that question may seem complex. Many people feel conflicted about what America’s response should be. I am reminded of Jesus’ words in Matthew 25:

Then they also will answer, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?’ Then he will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’ (NRSV)

Inscribed on The Statue of Liberty are these words written by Emma Lazarus.

Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me:
I lift my lamp beside the golden door.”

I cannot say it any better than that. May God have mercy on us all.

Serenity does not run in my family. My brother has a t-shirt that says this: “I’m not yelling. I’m Greek. This is how we talk!” So from the womb, I became used to loud, animated talk, and quite a bit of yelling.

Becoming serene did not come naturally for me. It happened as a result of a serious illness in 2014 that has left me quiet. My family now often says that I am very quiet, a big change from the way I used to be.

This I know . . . End Stage Kidney Disease forced me to calm myself down, to become more peaceful, to open my personality up to a new serenity. It has been so good for my emotional, spiritual and physical health. How did I do it? I became alive in the present moment. I learned to pay little attention to the past, and I learned not to be anxious about the future. That change in perspective brought me serenity and peace. I like this quote about mindfulness:

Peace is present right here and now, in ourselves and in everything we do and see. Every breath we take, every step we take, can be filled with peace, joy, and serenity. The question is whether or not we are in touch with it. We need only to be awake, alive in the present moment.

( Thích Nhất Hạnh, Peace Is Every Step: The Path of Mindfulness in Everyday Life)

I am grateful for the things that have helped bring me peace – reading the Bible, prayer and meditation, being aware of the beauty of nature. I needed to get there.

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. (John 14:27 NIV)

If God is for us, who can ever be against us? 

I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord. (From Romans 8 NLT)

Our lives are full of things that try to separate us from God’s love. Violence, terrorism, racial strife, volatile relationships, things that threaten our faith in God. Sometimes we begin to ask, “Where is God in all this?” And that can be a beginning of losing trust in the God who walks with us in spite of any circumstance, in spite of our questioning.

It’s okay to ask why when children suffer from the ravages of an illness, when villages are destroyed by violent terrorists, when families are attacked and children left orphaned. But we must answer our own questions: Nothing will be able to separate us from the love of God! Nothing! The comforting scripture bears repeating:

Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Thanks be to God.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life,and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it. (John 1:1-5 NRSV)

When serious illness devastates a family, they find themselves in a dark place . . . for a time. When relationships end badly with violence or harsh words, victims are in darkness. When a person loses a loved one to death, there is nothing but darkness.

The Eiffel Tower stood in darkness last night, a testament to the horror of lost lives at the hands of terrorists. A nation stands in the darkness of grief. But it will not always be so. “In the beginning was The Word we know as the Christ. What came into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in darkness . . .”

So what is the treasure here? It is precisely this: a message to those who find themselves in the darkness. The light shines in darkness, and most importantly, “the darkness did not overcome it.”

So for those who find themselves in darkness on this day, for whatever reason, the darkness will not overcome you. Christ, who is with you and in you, is the light that never extinguishes.

Though terrorism has once again darkened our world, the bridges connecting the cities of Little Rock and North Little Rock are illuminated in the French flag colors of blue, white and red in honor of the victims of the Paris terror attacks. The lights are simply a gesture. Yet the gesture is symbolic of solidarity with and concern for our brothers and sisters of France. Hearts around the world are broken for the people of France, and that is as it should be. Our loving concern does not change the horror that happened in Paris, but it does help create a world of more love and compassion.

The Paris area reeled Friday night from a shooting rampage, explosions and mass hostage-taking that President François Hollande called an unprecedented terrorist attack on France. French news services quoted the police as saying that around 100 people had been killed at a concert site where hostages had been held during a two-hour standoff with the police, and that perhaps dozens of others had been killed in coordinated attacks outside the country’s main sports stadium and four other popular locations in the city.

President Obama came to the White House briefing room to express solidarity and offer aid and condolences. “Once again, we’ve seen an outrageous attempt to terrorize innocent civilians,” he said. “This is an attack not just on Paris, it’s an attack not just on the people of France, but this is an attack on all of humanity and the universal values that we share.”

What happened in Paris is yet another tragedy in a world full of tragedies. Our response is to pray for the people of France, to seek God’s peace for them and for others around the world that are experiencing the horrors of war and terrorism, and to hold one another in the light of hope. Only that will dispel the darkness of terrorism.

I woke up this morning with the best of intentions: to do 15 minutes of my daily 30 minute exercise regimen. But what to do? Walking can bore me. Cycling is even worse, and I don’t have a stationary bicycle anyway. No pool for water aerobics. Definitely no jogging. The prescription is low impact exercise.

A brilliant idea hits me! I’ll dance, Greek dancing in particular. No other eyes are awake to laugh at me, and if I keep the volume down, Fred won’t hear the music. So I go to my iPad to search for Greek dance music. There is no shortage, so I quickly settle on three songs that will take a little over 15 minutes. Three different dances made my repertoire interesting.

The outcome is that I danced until my hip told me to stop, and I had a blast. Greek dancing will now be at least half of my daily exercise routine. I think I’m on to something. Getting tired and a bit winded can’t be more fun!

And while I exercise, I’ll celebrate my heritage and its music. I’ll celebrate my life. I’ll celebrate being alive another day and having the ability to dance. I’ll celebrate my body’s movement to the music of my ancestors.

Miriam the prophetess, Aaron’s sister, took the timbrel in her hand, and all the women went out after her with timbrels and with dancing. (Exodus 15:20)

In just a few hours, my path takes me toward the unknown. Today is the day I have been anxious about for weeks. I will be evaluated today to determine if I am a good candidate for a kidney transplant. My doctor insists that I will have a longer life, and a better quality of life, with a transplant as opposed to daily dialysis.

I am comfortable with dialysis now. After more than a year, I have accepted dialysis as my lifeline, and change is frightening. Surgery is frightening. Being weak again during recovery is frightening. But today a friend called my attention to these words:

Sometimes what you’re most afraid of doing is the very thing that will set you free.

I intend to hang on to that wise thought. I intend to summon my tucked away courage and move forward one step at a time. I intend to meet with my medical team today and to trust God for whatever comes of it. I intend to be brave enough to travel the unknown path before me.

I am grateful to have a God who holds my future in loving hands. And though I cannot see the path ahead, I have a traveling companion I trust completely. Thanks be to God.

In honor of our Veterans, please enjoy this video of the National Anthem.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=SkfGClpS_oc&autoplay=1

GOD OF OUR FATHERS, whose Almighty hand hath made and preserved our Nation, grant that our people may understand what it is they celebrate today.

May they remember how bitterly our freedom was won, the down payment that was made for it, the installments that have been made since this Republic was born, and the price that must yet be paid for our liberty.

May freedom be seen, not as the right to do as we please, but as the opportunity to please to do what is right.

May it ever be understood that our liberty is under God and can be found nowhere else.

May our faith be something that is not merely stamped upon our coins, but expressed in our lives.

Let us, as a nation, not be afraid of standing alone for the rights of men, since we were born that way, as the only nation on earth that came into being “for the glory of God and the advancement of the Christian faith.”

We know that we shall be true to the Pilgrim dream when we are true to the God they worshiped.

To the extent that America honors Thee, wilt Thou bless America, and keep her true as Thou has kept her free, and make her good as Thou has made her rich. Amen.

Prayed July 3, 1947, at the opening of the daily session of the Senate of the United States by Rev. Peter Marshall, D.D., Chaplain of the Senate.

I had a lovely time last night corresponding with a good friend about the past. We enjoyed some memories we have not thought about for a long time. And we lamented a bit about things that are no more. We realized that there are some good times we cannot go back to. It was, at times, a poignant conversation, poignant enough that I questioned myself, just for a moment or two, on our move to Georgia.

Heraclitus of Ephesus said that a person “can never step into the same river; for new waters are always flowing on to you.” The river is ever-changing, the waters constantly flowing. And we are constantly changing as well. So the past is but memories that can not be precisely recreated. The present is for making new memories and doing new things with the wonderful life we have.

Isaiah 43:18-19 makes sense of it all:

Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland.

The past is in the past. Take its fond memories with you into this present day, but live today! This day is all we have. Do a new thing. God will make a way.

I see sunrises almost every morning. Their beauty takes me to all kinds of places for inspiration, awe and sheer beauty. But enjoying a sunset is rare for me. It seems I am always busy cooking dinner, and the sun slips down without a sound to alert me.

It’s a shame to miss the stunning event. So I plan to figure out a way to be present when the sun sets. There’s just something about a sunset that touches the spirit, and I am on a quest to enjoy at least one spirit-touching happening each day. Until I meet up with a sunset, I will contemplate the words of Olivia Howard Dunbar written in “The Shell of Sense.”

The pale stars were sliding into their places. The whispering of the leaves was almost hushed. All about them it was still and shadowy and sweet. It was that wonderful moment when, for lack of a visible horizon, the not yet darkened world seems infinitely greater—a moment when anything can happen, anything be believed in.    ― Olivia Howard Dunbar, The Shell of Sense

It may well be true that a sunset is a “wonderful moment when anything can happen, anything be believed in.”

Today ends my glorious mountain vacation. I’m a bit melancholy about that, of course. And I know that I am going home to an appointment that makes me feel anxious.

Thursday, I have an appointment with the team at Piedmont Medical Center who will begin the process of evaluating me for a possible kidney transplant. The idea of having a transplant is a big life change, and change is difficult for me. For over a year, I have been doing dialysis. It has become a predictable part of my life now. It is therapeutic, and it makes me feel healthy, healthier than I really am.

So I will go on Thursday, taking my anxiety with me, and I will meet up with a potentially significant life change. As I do, I will be hanging on to the scripture in Philippians. And although I may be feeling anxiety, I know that the peace of God will guard my heart.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 4:6-7

Have you ever felt so deep-down tired that you just wanted to sleep? It happened for me yesterday. Ironically enough, most of the family felt the same way. And so we lounged around a lot and most of us fell asleep now and again.

It’s a phenomenon that happens on your vacation as soon as you are able to put your daily responsibilities aside. Then your body finally lets itself do what it most needs to do . . . rest and re-create itself.

In the midst of our jobs or other daily responsibilities, sometimes we scarcely notice the level of fatigue we’re carrying. When we finally take that much-needed vacation, we feel the burnout and the work stress.

As I write this blog, I am again feeling the fatigue take over. But I am also reminded of one of the most beloved scripture passages:

They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint. (Isaiah 40:31)

Today I cherish whatever level of strength God gives me. I may not fly with the eagles. I may not be running a foot race. But I know that God will keep me on my feet. I know that God will renew my strength. And sometimes just walking without fainting is enough.

It is a good thing to be able to leave the world behind, to relax with loved ones, and to just have a little fun. We have done that for the past two nights, sitting around an outdoor fireplace, telling stories of fond and funny memories, singing along with dozens of old Motown hits.

Stevie Wonder, Aretha Franklin, Smokey Robinson, and dozens of artists helped us get our life back into rhythm as we robustly sang along . . . and even broke into a dance or two as the night progressed. We lived for just a few moments with reckless abandon.

Along with my cousins and sister-in-law, we forgot about our work, our responsibilities, our illnesses, our aches and pains. We remembered only our good memories from the past, and we told one another about the past life experiences that brought us to this day.

It was fun. It was relaxing. It was cleansing. It was therapeutic. It was a good thing for us to do. As we serenaded the bears, the coyotes, and the tenants in the next cabin, we became real to one another. It must be the beauty of the mountains, the crackling of the fire, and the freedom of the brilliantly colored  trees that encouraged us to hilarity.

On the next day we took in some local shops, and we found the perfect t-shirt. It said “Who let the girls out?” It was yet one more reminder that we do need to let ourselves out of the daily grind often. It’s emotionally, spiritually and physically good for us. Cheers to the North Georgia mountains!

And to whoever let the girls out . . . thanks!

Sitting in a lovely cabin nestled in the North Georgia mountains near Blue Ridge reminds me of one of my favorite bible passages: “I will lift up my eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help.”

I look out across the mountain and see higher ones in the distance, snuggled in the mist of morning, colors performing a rainbow of brilliance, soft rain falling from the sky, and the occasional music of birdsong. The light wind whistles through the trees creating a flurry of falling leaves. The breeze is brisk enough to blow raindrops on my face and on my iPad, so I head back into the cozy cabin.

The setting is breathtaking. The company is my closest family. And all is well. I am grateful for it all. Mostly I am grateful that God is near me and is forever my help.

I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.

My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth.

He will not suffer thy foot to be moved: he that keepeth thee will not slumber.

Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep.

The Lord is thy keeper: the Lord is thy shade upon thy right hand.

The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night.

The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul.

The Lord shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore. (Psalm 121 KJV)

Thanks be to God.