God of the Sparrow 🌱 By Kathy Manis Findley

And a great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that it was already filling. But He was in the stern, asleep on a pillow. And the disciples awoke Him and said to Him, “Teacher, do You not care that we are perishing?”

Then He arose and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Peace, be still!” And the wind ceased and there was a great calm.

– Mark 4:37-39 New King James Version (NKJV)

Living life can easily be compared to being in the midst of a storm. The winds blow around us, sometimes strongly enough to to blow us off our feet. Certainly winds can move us to places we never intended to go.

We lean into the gentle breezes, feeling assured that we are safe. But the strong breezes can frighten us, and gale force winds control our journey in disconcerting ways.

At times, I have felt helpless against winds that would carry me where I didn’t want to go. At other times, gale force winds took complete control of my life.

Storms will come upon us from time to time. I am comforted, though, by the words of Elizabeth Edwards:

“She stood in the storm, and when the wind did not blow her way, she adjusted her sails.”

In just a brief perusal of the news, I came across these headlines.
A man hugged girl, 7, at soccer practice, then killed her.

Oklahoma mother is arrested for starving five-year-old daughter.

Father is arrested for death of Malik Drummond, Searcy two-year-old missing since 2014.

The youngest victim of sex trafficking in the Connecticut Department of Children and Families’ files is 2 years old.

California domestic terrorist was a victim of childhood domestic abuse.

The world is covered with tragedy of every kind, but no acts of violence are as devastating as violence against innocent children. I could find thousands of headlines like these in any given day, and that should leave us bowed in grief and shame. Is it not possible for humanity to care for her children? Can we not find ways to protect children from lethal violence?

The short answer is that we have not done so yet. We have not put a stop to the murder and abuse of children. May God have mercy on us.

I take a slight bit of liberty with the Biblical text, but I will strongly affirm that if anyone harms a child, “it would be better for him if a millstone were hung around his neck and he were thrown into the sea.”

Let us join our hearts and hands to do whatever we can to create a safe place in the world for all children.

Psalm 122

I rejoiced when I heard them announce,
“The time of warfare is past.
No more will brother hate brother
or violence have its way.
No more will they drown out God’s silence
and shut their hearts to his song.”

Pray for peace in the cities
and harmony among the races.
May peace come to live on our streets
and justice within our walls.
With all my heart I will pray
that peace comes to live among us.
For the sake of all earth’s people,
I will do my utmost for peace.
Source: The Psalms (translated by Stephen Mitchell)

In times like these, the words of this Psalm speak to us directly and personally. In the midst of violence, we hear words of hope. In the midst of racism, we hear words of reconciliation. In the midst of terrorist acts, we hear words of comfort. In the midst of chaos, we hear words calling us to make peace and justice.

With these words from the Psalmist, we become brother and sister, joined inseparably with the mission of seeking a more hospitable world. We long for days of peace. We yearn for love among humanity. We set our hearts on building a world of compassion. We hunger and thirst for righteousness.

Thanks be to God for comforting words that move us to gentler places.

There are Scriptures for which no commentary is needed. The Beatitudes from the book of Matthew need no other words to explain them. The words stand on their own as a perfect blueprint for life.

And seeing the multitudes, Jesus went up on a mountain, and when He was seated His disciples came to Him. Then He opened His mouth and taught them, saying:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit,
For theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn,
For they shall be comforted.
Blessed are the meek,
For they shall inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
For they shall be filled.
Blessed are the merciful,
For they shall obtain mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart,
For they shall see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers,
For they shall be called sons of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake,
For theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
“Blessed are you when they revile and persecute you, and say all kinds of evil against you falsely for My sake. Rejoice and be exceedingly glad, for great is your reward in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

A dear friend recently replied to a post I had written with these words: “We feel God carrying us in beautiful ways.” Having been anxious about yesterday’s kidney transplant evaluation, I now can understand those words. It was a long day, a hard day in some ways, but I did feel God carrying me in beautiful ways.

As a result of God’s gentle presence, I feel nothing but hope for a better and healthier future. Of course, I do not know if a donor will be found for me in the time we have to find one. That is an unknown. The pathway ahead, as always, leads to places I cannot yet see. But I do know that God is carrying me, and all will be well.

Our family is hopeful. Our friends are praying. God is in control. What more could I want.

The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want. He invites me to lie down in green pastures. He leads me by still waters. He restores my soul.

Thanks be to God for gifts of grace, for carrying me in beautiful ways.

Today Fred and I are at Piedmont Transplant Center in Atlanta for my transplant evaluation. Fortunately, Fred is allowed to be with me during the day-long evaluation. His calming presence always soothes my fears, so I am grateful to have him here.

It causes me to recall the many months of my illness and hospitalization, and all we went through, just the two of us. So many people are not as blessed as I am with a loyal and loving spouse. His care makes all the difference in the world to me, and I am thankful to know that he’s with me whatever happens in the months to come.

I have so much support from my wonderful family. My cherished friends have been praying for me for months. But most dear of all is Fred and his constant and unwavering support through it all. “In sickness and in health” has never been so true.

For me, Fred has been a perfect gift from God.

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variableness, neither shadow of turning.

– James 1:17

Today we will be headed to Atlanta for my kidney transplant evaluation on Wednesday. The upcoming event has led me into contemplation, not a bad place to be. I have discovered that, for me, contemplation accompanies important life events. And this one is probably the most significant life event I have faced off with in a long time.

In the midst of what is very real anxiety about it, contemplation has brought me to a place of peace and acceptance. I am glad for that. I love the words of Alan P. Torey about contemplation.

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.

it is true that “the seamless garment of silence” makes me whole. I honestly think that had I not sought a more contemplative lifestyle, I would not have been able to go through this transplant process with serenity, faith and hope.

In the past, I would have described myself as anything but contemplative. I find it fascinating that life takes us where we need to be, in spite of ourselves. These days, my friends and family describe me as “quiet.” I prefer to think of myself as contemplative. The quiet comes with contemplation as a gift I never expected to receive.

When the holiday we know as Thanksgiving is over, it brings many things . . . the refrigerator is finally emptying out and the leftovers are gone, family is scattered once again, a new holiday season begins, and sometimes, we might even forget all about being thankful.

I want to hold on to thanks giving this time. I want to live with thankfulness all year around. I want to learn to be thankful always.

I would like to share a wonderful prayer with you. These beautiful words are a family prayer written by Walter Rauschenbusch as a Thanksgiving prayer. Composed around the turn of the twentieth century, the theologian and Baptist social reformer’s words are as beautiful and poignant today as they were a hundred years ago.

For the wide sky and the blessed sun,
For the salt sea and the running water,
For the everlasting hills
And the never-resting winds,
For trees and the common grass underfoot.
We thank you for our senses
By which we hear the songs of birds,
And see the splendor of the summer fields,
And taste of the autumn fruits,
And rejoice in the feel of the snow,
And smell the breath of the spring.
Grant us a heart wide open to all this beauty;
And save our souls from being so blind
That we pass unseeing
When even the common thornbush
Is aflame with your glory,
O God our creator,
Who lives and reigns for ever and ever.

Donna Alley wrote a song that expresses what I am trying to say. Here are the lyrics of the refrain:

In everything give Him thanks, give Him thanks.
In everything give Him thanks.
In the good times praise His name.
In the bad times do the same.
In everything give the King of Kings all the thanks.

Listen to the entire song by the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir at this link:
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=UN4rwsAQfyU&autoplay=1

During Advent, God’s people look back upon Christ’s coming in celebration, while at the same time look forward in eager anticipation and hope for the coming of Christ’s kingdom when he returns for his people. In this light, the Advent hymn “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel” perfectly represents the church’s cry during the Advent season: O come, O come, Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel.

First Sunday of Advent
The Reading: Jeremiah 33:14-16

The days are coming, says the LORD,
when I will fulfill the promise
I made to the house of Israel and Judah.
In those days, in that time,
I will raise up for David a just shoot ;
he shall do what is right and just in the land.
In those days Judah shall be safe
and Jerusalem shall dwell secure;
this is what they shall call her:
“The LORD our justice.”

God of justice,
Come among us anew this Advent season.
Come into our hearts that we might be safe.
Come into our souls that we might dwell secure.
Come into our thoughts that we might seek justice in our world.
Welcome. We wait for you in hope!
O come, O come, Emmanuel.

Amen.

“When it’s over, I want to say: all my life I was a bride married to amazement. I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.” (Mary Oliver)

I have often wondered about how it would feel to be a literal tree-hugger, to throw my arms around a strong tree trunk and say “thank you” for every bit of life you give to the earth. I have often wondered about how it would feel to climb a tall tree, to recline in its branches and to say “thank you” for your shelter and your beauty.

I know I’m weird, but I stand in wonder at the way tree leaves change their colors in the sunlight, glowing amber and orange and red and burgundy against the bright blue of a clear autumn sky. They comfort me. They leave me in awe. They let me experience the wonderment of the showy spectacle. And when the wind blows and I hear the trees rustling in the breeze, when I hear the dry leaves crunch beneath my feet, I am fully smitten.

My only and best response is to thank God for the trees of the earth in all their splendor. And then to “take the world into my arms,” as Mary Oliver says.

Trees are gifts to me from a loving God. “Every good and perfect gift comes down from the Father of lights, in whom there is no variableness neither shadow of turning.” (James 1:17)

Now that the feasting of Thanksgiving is over, the world has rolled back into its place. Once again, there is only the reality of our lives to deal with. Holidays take us out of our worlds for a moment, suspending worries and concerns. But today, the concern, the unknown path, returns.

For me, the unknown path is my evaluation for a kidney transplant on Wednesday. All I know about it at this point is that it will be a full day of testing, interviews, and whatever else they do. Not knowing exactly what they will do is rather disconcerting to me. Wondering if I will actually receive a transplant is disconcerting. How I will fare physically after surgery is also disconcerting.

There are so many questions? Will the surgery itself take too much out of me? Am I looking at months of recuperation? Will my body accept the new organ? Will we even be able to secure a donor? Will I be able to tolerate the anti-rejection medications?

This is definitely one of those “trust God” situations when the only thing one can do is rely on God to guide and protect. I intend to move forward down this unknown path, knowing that I can only see a short distance ahead of me, knowing that the road disappears into the distance and goes on into a place I cannot see. The only way I can do this is to trust God with all my heart.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart,
and do not depend on your own understanding.
In all your ways acknowledge him,
and he will direct your paths.

– Proverbs 3:5-6

Many families will have an empty place at their Thanksgiving table. In fact, there will be an empty place at our Thanksgiving table this year. It will bring a bit of sorrow to the day, because one very special person will be absent, miles away in another state.

While we are in these special days of thanks giving, I remember our best friend of many years, Marvin. There are no words that can express his undying loyalty to us over the years. He was there for us in good times and in not-so-good times, always present to listen, to understand, and to offer a calm word.

More like a brother than a friend, he is definitely a part of our family. Now that we are far apart, we have to rely on electronic communication to stay in touch. It just doesn’t work. The close friendship that we enjoyed doesn’t translate well in a text message.

Fortunately, he has been here to visit. But Thanksgiving will just not be the same without him around our table. Time moves on and circumstances change. Friends move away, bringing empty places in the heart and at the table.

But my heart, at least, is full of fond memories and good times with Marvin. Not even distance can take that away. Thanks, Marvin. You are the best of friends, a friend of the heart.

“For all that has been, thank you. For all that is to come, Yes!”

― Dag Hammarskjöld

Give, and it will be given to you. Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap; for the measure you give will be the measure you get back.

Luke 6:38 (New Revised Standard Version)

Eight months and two weeks ago, my husband, Fred, and I moved from Little Rock, Arkansas to Macon, Georgia. It was a very unlikely move, given we had happily lived in Little Rock for thirty-three years. We have close friends, a son, and three precious grandchildren in Little Rock.

But here we are, miles away from what was our home. How did we get here? It was a matter of insistence on the part of my brother, my sister-in-law, and my cousins.

I had been very ill for a year. Fred took care of me singlehandedly. When my Georgia family saw the situation first-hand, they insisted that we move here so that they could be more available to care for me and support Fred.

During this season when we think about giving thanks, I am filled with gratitude to them for their care. To say that they are generous, loving and giving to us would be an understatement. When I think of them — Andrew, Linda, Tasia and Donna — and all they do for us, I stand amazed at such lavish love.

The Bible says, Give and you shall be repaid in good measure.” My family will most definitely receive as generously as they give to us, and the words of the Scripture will be true of them: “good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap; for the measure you give will be the measure you get back.”

So today, as we prepare to spend Thanksgiving as a family, I am overflowing with thanks giving for all they are doing to care for us. So thank you Andrew, Linda, Tasia and Donna. You mean so much to me, and “I give thanks to my God upon every remembrance of you.” (Philippians 1:3)

“Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and that which cannot remain silent”
― Victor Hugo

It is true that music can often give expression to our deepest emotions, and can be a healing balm in troubled times. Alas, not all of us can make beautiful music. Those who are gifted to do so are fortunate. The rest of us make do, but we make do very well.

I have seen it over and over . . . the person who can lose him/herself by listening to classical music; the fan who can sing along with every word of country music radio and enjoy every minute; the one who knows every word of every Motown hit and can get lost in the soulful tunes.

Music is good for us, in good times when it can express our delight, and in bad times when it can bring us comfort. This is one of my favorite songs:

Without a song the day would never end.
Without a song the road would never bend.
When things go wrong, a man ain’t got a friend
Without a song.

That field of corn would never see a plow.
That field of corn would be deserted now.
A man is born but he’s no good no-how
Without a song.

I got my troubles and woe but sure as I know that Jordan will roll.
I’ll get along as long as a song is strong in my soul.
I’ll never know what makes the rain to fall.
I’ll never know what makes the grass so tall.
I only know there ain’t no love at all
Without a song!

(“Without a Song” is a popular song with music by Vincent Youmans and lyrics by Billy Rose and Edward Eliscu, published in 1929. It was included in the musical play, Great Day.)

When you are feeling low, try music. Sing it, play it, listen to it. It might just make a difference in your soul.

“Be soft. Do not let the world make you hard. Do not let pain make you hate. Do not let the bitterness steal your sweetness. Take pride that even though the rest of the world may disagree, you still believe the world to be a beautiful place.”

– Kurt Vonnegut

What sage advice . . . Don’t let the world make you hard. Don’t let pain make you hate. It is so easy to be marked by events that hurt us, so easy to respond with bitterness and anger. It is easier still to be angry for so long that you become cynical and unhappy.

I once knew a person that hated everything and every person. So much had happened in her life that she had become permanently bitter, and her bitterness marred every relationship in her life.

Once a person allows that much bitterness to take over his/her life, it is nearly impossible to find contentment and happiness.

If you find that you are feeling chronically angry or bitter, get to the bottom of your anger and resolve it. You will be glad you did when your world again starts looking like a beautiful place.

All sorts of people are contemplating weighty decisions these days. Dialogue about recent terrorist acts are wrought with critical questions. Do we close our borders to refugees? Do we welcome those fleeing from their violent homelands?

What is the moral response? What is the Christian response? How do we keep our nation safe?

And we all react differently: with anger, despair, sadness, indignation, resolve, resignation, rage, hopelessness . . . the list could go on and on.

Consider this quote from The Houston Chronicle:

During times of terror, murder, and violence, political leaders will make decisions that protect their own innocent citizens from harm. Yet what about the innocent who are left in the crossfire? Of the Syrian refugees being referred by the United Nations for settlement, more than half are children under the age of 18. A large proportion of them are women or elderly men. The protocol for admittance under refugee guidelines takes an average of 18 to 24 months during a rigorous screening process. Kathleen Newland, a senior fellow at the Migration Policy Institute says, “The refugee resettlement program is the least likely way for a terrorist to infiltrate the United States.”

I am not writing to set forth yet another argument on this subject. People much more knowledgable than I are already doing that. But I was reminded just now of a day in our past that was also a time of crisis. And I loved Leonard Bernstein’s response and his reaction to the crisis. Here is his story.

In the days that followed the assassination of President Kennedy there were many heart-wrenching musical moments, like the New York Philharmonic’s performance of Mahler’s “Resurrection” Symphony the day before Leonard Bernstein gave an unforgettable speech at Madison Square Garden. His remarks include these words:

“This sorrow and rage will not inflame us to seek retribution; rather it will inflame our art . . . This will be our reply to violence: to make music more intensely, more beautifully, more devotedly than ever before.”

My decision or yours on how to respond to violence will not likely change the course of terrorism in the world. Nevertheless, each of us must own our own responses to crisis.

Most of us are not talented enough to make music. But I hope that my response to crisis will be to act “more intensely, more beautifully, more devotedly than ever before.” And by the way, making our own kind of music, whatever that might be, is not a bad idea.

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.