Year: 2017

SharingSharing

A new house is being built on the lot beside me.   The men work and call to one another, play their loud music, and operate their noisy machines.  I miss the peace and quiet I once knew, and feel cranky at the intrusion.  Then I realize I share this world and this island. Perhaps in a similar fashion I sometimes I want you all to myself, so I alone have your attention and favor, so you and I are our own island.  Forgive me.  Help me to know that it is only in sharing you that your will is done.  Help me to welcome others and make me less greedy for what is not mine alone.  You are the God of all.  Forgive me for trying to own you; make me an instrument to bring others to the knowledge of you.  It is only in sharing you that I truly won your love. Amen.

God’s ConstancyGod’s Constancy

  When I stood on the deck this morning, I heard a pinecone fall from the tree and thud against the deck floor.  I was startled at first, but them pleased too.  As I go about my daily affairs, you dear Father, continue to operate the world around me, timing the release of seeds in due season, governing the migration of birds, and carefully arranging the tides according to your plan.  I am relieved to know that all creation is in your hands, no matter how careless and random world events may seem to be.  I can peacefully submit to your will, knowing that you are God of the universe.  You will guide my actions and my responses—whether to the fall of a pinecone or the sacrifice of your beloved Son on the cross.  You are still my creator and my redeemer, manifested in all the world that surrounds me. Amen.

Soft RainSoft Rain

 

This morning the fog dripped from the leaves of the pines, making soft sounds against the sand.  Sometimes when we need rain badly, I wait for thunderclouds and torrents of water.  Yet, this gentle fog serves the same purpose.  Quietly, softly, it provides moisture to the dry island sand, refreshing my limp flowers, renewing the greenery around my deck.  Dear God, your love, like the gentle fog, sustains me even in times of apparent drought.  Sometimes I demand immediate answers and quick responses from you—torrents of action and assistance—but your answer may be, like the gentle fog, one of quiet support and renewal.  Just as the blanket of fog shrouds the island, your presence settles over me and gives me quiet peace and strength.  May I respond to your love always without question and without disappointment.

Broken StarfishBroken Starfish

 Today I found three wounded starfish on the beach, each missing a leg.  They were touching one another.  I couldn’t determine if they had been one another’s victims or were tending to the pain of one another.  In either case, I was reminded that too often I mean to care for people but inadvertently end up hurting them instead.  I say things that I’ve heard others say without thinking how apt these words might or might not be.  Please God, help me know how to be loving, how to be gentle, how to be helpful without clumsily wounding by my actions and words.  I need to examine my own motives and then learn to love without hope of gain or profit. Help me to love as Jesus loved—openly and inclusively.  Amen.

Footprints in the SandFootprints in the Sand

  When I walked on the beach this morning, I saw footprints laid in the sand in front of me.  I tried to step in them, but the stride was too long, and I lagged behind.  I needed to set my own pace and establish my own stride.  I need that in my faith too.  I can’t rely on the beliefs of others nor can I follow exactly the pace that others comfortably set for themselves as they grow in faith.  Some make giant steps; others are slower, taking each step with cautious care.  Please, God, help me find the right stride in my walk of faith with you.  Help me feel your presence beside me so that I grow daily in my relationship with you and in my ability to help others.  Guard and guide my walk, I pray. Amen.

Fog’s VeilFog’s Veil

Fog swirls about the island, erasing everything that’s known and familiar.  I can’t recognize shapes or colors, and my surroundings seem foreign to me.  My life is sometimes like that.  When problems arise, I feel as if I am alone, shrouded from help or care, unable to recognize the shapes that surround me.  In the fog, nothing seems hopeful; everything appears threatening.  Please, God, reach out to me whether I’m in the whiteness of fog or the blackness of despair.  Help me to feel your presence always, and let me know that you abide with me even when I can’t see your face.  Assure me that your love and presence are eternally mine; when the fog lifts, let me recognize that you were always there beside me. Amen.

Varied VisitorsVaried Visitors

A sunny day on the island!  Winter visitors take to the beach in bathing suits, insistent on earning a tan even when the wind blows chill.  Meanwhile, I walk past them in a jacket, scarf wrapped around my neck to shut out the wind.  How different we all are!  What a marvelous world you have created, God, with such diversity of color, shape, gifts and personalities.  I pray that you help me appreciate these differences, revel in them, encourage those who seek the sun’s warmth and respond equally to those who need to borrow my warm gloves.  May I walk through a world you’ve created, loving, appreciating, and celebrating your presence in all whom I meet. Amen.

 

 

 

 

The only snowman you’ll meet on these sunny beaches

Prayer for a Piece of ClayPrayer for a Piece of Clay

 A friend of mine gave me a piece of clay pot she found exposed in the bay mud.  Holding the broken fragment, I thought of the woman who collected and shaped this piece, as it was largely women’s work to make the pots so vital to Indian life.  Within the pots were stored their most valuable possessions—seeds, food, herbs, beads, etc.  This woman wanted her pot to be different, to reflect her uniqueness, so she carefully pricked small holes, perhaps with a pointed bone, into a design and crimped the edges as I might crimp pie dough.  Perhaps this was her ‘signature’ design; others might immediately recognize this pot simply because the pattern was so obviously hers.

 How God-like she was, making this pot, forming it to mirror her intent!  In a similar fashion, O God, you’ve made us in your image, molding and shaping us to reflect your design, your essence.  We too are God-like in the way we recreate the world around us, shaping and molding it to reflect our mood or our outlook.  While we complain about the cold wind, someone else sails a kite joyfully, relishing how the wind cooperates and lifts and dips the kite in rivers of motion.  Some respond to a health crisis with utter despair, never allowing themselves to be close to God again.  Others may choose to learn from the experience, using it as an opportunity to live with compassion and empathy.  There is no better place to practice being Christian than in the office of a cardiologist or oncologist!  How we view the world, how we choose to understand and use it, this resembles God’s creation and identification of the world as His own.  The world is God’s handiwork; our interpretation of this world is our handiwork.

We are also like the clay pot, even the broken piece I hold in my hand.  Made by God from clay, shaped in His image, we are that creation.  We were designed to contain the most valuable possession of all—the message of salvation.  St. Paul  (II Corinthians, Chapter 4) reminds us that we are like earthen vessels, made by God, holding the good news of His resurrection.  We exist as clay pots—troubled, but not distressed; perplexed, but not in despair, persecuted but not forsaken, cast down, but not destroyed.

 What a glorious, triumphant message!  This shard of pot, colored with red clay, stamped with a unique design, stained charcoal black by a fire’s blaze—this pot symbolizes what it is to be Christian.  We are, by our very existence, a crucial reminder of permanence even in the face of impermanence.  Again—Paul’s message is one of triumph and immortality—troubled but not in distress; perplexed but not in despair; persecuted but not forsaken; cast down but not destroyed.  The vital contrast is between the clay and the possession the clay vessel contains.  While our bodies weaken with age, the message we contain is immortal.  We carry the stamp of God upon us, identifying us.  Because we believe the meaning of Christ’s love and salvation, our lives are lived differently, reflecting in all we do the good news we contain, the good news we share.  Like this piece of clay, we reflect life’s experiences, but await a different life, a life in which we will be reshaped in the hands of our Creator, a time when we and the message we contain will be one.  And so we pray, Hold us tenderly, Dear Creator, and let us share Your salvation story with all whom we meet until one day when we break open in Paradise and are held once more in Your hands. Amen.

Thoughts on How to Live During Lent and BeyondThoughts on How to Live During Lent and Beyond

                                                               

 

 

Pope Francis recently shared this beautiful passage about how to live during Lent and beyond. When we think of things to give up during Lent, shouldn’t our negative behaviors  be the first to go?

 

 

A Lenten Diet

by John B. Wolf

Fast from Criticism, Feast on Praise.

Fast from Self-Pity, Feast on Joy.

Fast from Ill-Temper, Feast on Peace.

Fast from Resentment, Feast on Contentment.

Fast from Jealousy, and Feast on Love.

Fast from Pride, and Feast on Humility.

Fast from Selfishness, and Feast on Service.

Fast from Fear, and Feast on Faith.

 

 

Fast from hurting words and say kind words.

Fast from sadness and be filled with gratitude.

Fast from anger and be filled with patience.

Fast from pessimism and be filled with Hope.

Fast from worries and have trust in God.

Fast from complaints and contemplate simplicity.

Fast from pressures and be prayerful.

Fast from bitterness and fill your hearts with joy.

Fast from selfishness and be compassionate to others.

Fast from grudges and be reconciled.

Fast from words and be silent so you can listen.

 

 

This passage appears in Celebrating Easter and Spring: An Anthology of Unitarian Universalist Readings, ed. by Carl Seaburg and Mark Harris (Anne Miniver Press, 2000).

Shining the Light of JesusShining the Light of Jesus

In the past, mariners relied on lighthouses to warn them of danger. By shining a light, lighthouse keepers could guide ships away from certain peril. In today’s dark world, nothing shines as brightly, or protects us like the love of Jesus Christ. Jesus said, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” John 8:12

Today’s world creates an environment where we are more connected through technology than ever before, but at the same time feel more isolated from real, deep connections in our own lives. It’s easy to feel alone in the darkness and to believe that nothing you can do makes a difference. Nothing could be further from the truth. We are never alone, for God is always with us. In Psalm 18, David wrote, “For You light my lamp; The LORD my God illumines my darkness.”

Like the lighthouse down the street, St. George Island United Methodist Church seeks to shine the light of Christ by sharing his love in our community, state, and around the world. As a lighthouse servant church, we help people locally, nationally, and abroad through our missions.  We hope that you will join us in person or online as we seek to share God’s message of endless love and eternal hope.

 

Our Mission:
Share the light of Jesus and Embrace the Community to transform lives through the Holy Spirit to grow ministries and missions for all generations
for the Glory of God.