John Becker

John Becker

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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 GraceGod’s Grace

The island is awash in wild flowers now, splashes of color line the road, displaying their palette even in the piney woods on the bay.  No one plants these seeds, no one tends them; they must endure drought and cold, surviving intense heat and salt spray, super-heated summer winds.  They are a gift, these lovely flowers, a gift given freely and generously.  I think of them as a reminder of God’s grace, free for the taking, available to all, a gift that exists under the most severe and extreme conditions, outlasting any other gift possibly conceived.  Thank you, Lord, for these blooms that sweeten my days, and thank you for the gift of your grace that promises me an eternity shared with you. Amen.