Yesterday in church I had problems on my mind, thoughts that displaced praise and worship, thoughts that held me fast to the things of this world. During my beach walk, I watched a sea tern prepare to fly. He jumped slightly into the wind, and then raised his feet back flat, severing all ties with the earth. Suddenly I realized that is exactly what I must do when I approach God; I must greet him with a leap of faith and with my thoughts of this world left behind. Of course I will pray for counsel and guidance, for help and strength, but I must, like that bird, allow my spirit to reach out for God’s presence, not tying myself to the snares and traps of this world. I can’t solve my problems myself because they enmesh me in their own complexity. Like that bird, I have to jump as an act of faith into God’s presence, concentrating on him and his will for my life. Forgive me, Father, when I approach you with a mind already filled with my own thoughts. Help me empty myself of all but praise and gratitude, coming before you in trust and faith. Amen.
Chicory or cornflower is blooming on the island, lining the road near the park. Whenever I see the sky-blue blossoms, I am suddenly swept back into my childhood. One summer
Over the weekend someone built an elaborate sandcastle on the beach, complete with turrets, shell door, and raised moat wall. I assume a mold was used to help shape the
I remember the first time I was asked to deliver the sermon at our church. What an awesome responsibility! The week before I worked on a text, thinking and rereading,