Reflecting…


My lower back aches, my shoulders ache, my stomach aches and my face aches from the inside out. You know how that feels, don’t you? Just aching all over. Never mind “rest,” as the TV commercials brightly promise, I need a “so I can think medicine.” I can still do a number of things without rest, despite good advice to the contrary, but not much if my thinking is distorted or unreliable. I don’t want to argue with people who would assert that resting is essential to clear thinking. Probably true, but I can’t confirm it from my personal experience; I’ve been in bed all day and I still have cloudy thinking.


It’s probably good that I haven’t had many phone calls on this brain-cloudy day. People worry when I reply in a husky voice. However, God and I have had a good long talk. We talk about you mostly. We started by going over the prayer list printed in the bulletin last week and then I mentioned a couple of more recent prayer requests that have been brought to my attention since. A “normally healthy” day starts there so that wasn’t out of the ordinary. We always thank God for all of you, mentioning you in our prayers. We continually remember before our God and Father your work produced by faith, your labor prompted by love, and your endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ (1Thessalonians 1:2-3).


But this day has still more time for prayer in it. After a while, I began to pray for “right now.” Wherever you are “right now.” Driving to northwest Iowa to attend a funeral. Walking into a church foyer there, looking for a familiar face, someone to hold, comfort and reassure. Or walking through an office door carrying notes from a meeting that just finished, a meeting that generated more work for you. Reaching for the telephone for any number of reasons. Twisting your locker dial and jerking up on the latch, a little frustrated by what someone just said. Or squinting into the sunshine, glad to be out for lunch. Holding a pen over the card you are about to write as you wonder what words to use to comfort Shelly, to encourage John, or to celebrate with Laurie and Bob. Listening for the break whistle. Filing a chart away in a cabinet. Boarding a plane, opening the car door. Following up on something that happened yesterday. Right now God is thinking about you.


Then I pray about nuances I’ve tucked away in this brain somewhere, little things that I wasn’t able to address at the time, but that have been waiting patiently for my attention. The look that came across a pastor’s face when I asked "how are you?" as we were walking into a meeting earlier this week. An instantaneous look that flashed like lightening before the sound of thunder. His voice was like a muted, distant rumble, “Not good. I am questioning a lot of things right now.” But the business meeting was beginning and I wasn't sure how to follow up without embarrassing him then. Today I have time to pray.


I pray for a man down the street who walks with his head down. Tired. Discouraged? A woman who is determined to do everything alone these days. Tense? In denial?


And then God brings to mind the missing. Faces that were not in worship. Voices who have not been in choir. Someone I haven't seen in a long time. The phone call that wasn't returned.


So much seems to have gone missing in this world. We fear the lack of mutual respect and peace between peoples. We search for security. We long for relief. War and famine and storm and all things empty. It's amazing how much our prayers can absorb.


This has been a good day to pray. After all, prayer doesn’t require a lot of clever thinking. Or a clear voice. Prayers are the rapid pulse of hearts drawing near to their Lord.


Much Grace,
Pastor Shirley