Author Archives: Ted Wueste
The Key of Gratitude, Part 3: Releasing Complaint
Gratitude opens our eyes and gives us sight. With a grateful heart, we see what is rather than what is not. Thanksgiving, as an attitude of the heart, is something that cleans the fogginess that can obscure our vision … our ability to see God in us, around us, and in others. But, gratitude can be hard to come by.
One of the heart postures that can create fog is complaint. When things are hard, we often feel complaint arising in our hearts. We can complain about anything when we’re in a complaining mood. A sunny day can be too hot. A beautiful snowfall can “ruin” our plans for travel. A little deeper, perhaps, is that complaint can become a lens through which we look at life. When things don’t happen the way I want them to happen … when things don’t turn out the way I’d expect … when things aren’t fair or just, complaint can be our “go to.” It can be our interpretive lens.
To be sure, there are things that are hard and painful and fearful and unjust. The challenge is that complaint is an interaction with those hard realities of life that is based on me … my perspective, my expectations, my ideas, and my preferences. To drill a little deeper, complaint is usually centered around the perceived loss of my independence … my ability for self-determination.
The solution, however, is not denial or dismissal. It is not acting like hurts and losses are not a big deal. It is not necessarily about “thinking positively.” When things are hard, we have an invitation from God into a kind of prayer called lament. Lament is a prayer that cries out to God with all the emotion and pain that one is feeling: God, how long? Will you abandon me forever? (Ps 13) or My God, My God, why have you forsaken me? (Ps 22) or My enemies surround me (Ps 27).
Whereas complaint focus on me and my loss of independence, lament focus on God and our cries of dependence. God, I need you. I am desperate without you. As the people of Israel moved toward the promised land in the Old Testament scriptures, there were told that it was a land flowing with milk and honey (to put it in New Testament terms: an abundant life). What the people of Israel misunderstood is that both milk and honey were items that were provided by God. Milk was dependent on there being rains that gave the goats plenty of grass to eat so that they would produce lots of milk. Honey was something that would be “found” in trees and places where bees were thriving because of a healthy environment. The land of Palestine was/is a land dependent upon the fickle rains that may or may not come. Milk and honey are symbols of dependence.
As the people of Israel were travelling to this land, they complained about the food God provided each day (the manna). Rather than a grateful heart that came from dependence, they had complaining hearts fueled by entitlement and a sense of what they deserved. A dependent life didn’t feel so good and so they complained. Their complaints were not so much God directed as self-focused. And when complaint was the lens through which they viewed life, they actually told God they wanted to go back into slavery in Egypt because “at least the food tasted better.” (paraphrase from Numbers 11:4-6) Imagine that, thinking that being enslaved was better because the food tasted better. That is what complaint does to us. It colors our perception and spirals our thoughts into darkness.
However, lament, which is invited by God, has a way of transforming us and enlightening our eyes. In Psalm 13, the Psalmist even prays “enlighten my eyes.” It is a prayer of dependence and just a few verses later, it is written, “I have trusted in your steadfast love … I will sing to the Lord.” To be sure, lament is not magic – it doesn’t necessarily offer an instant transformation into seeing sunny skies where clouds are. However, it does transform … sometimes slowly and sometimes more quickly as we take our lives to God in prayer and dependence.
Lament changes us because it enables a shift from independence to dependence which is another one of our “default settings” as humans. We are dependent beings and when we are living dependently, we live freely and lightly. We experience gratitude and grace, and as thanksgiving is on our lips (even through tears and hard times) we see Him. We experience God.
What would it be like for you to release complaint today and instead come to God with a prayer of lament? Lament can be gritty and messy but it is invited by God. He doesn’t ask us to deny the hard things or ignore them but to bring them to Him in dependence and surrender. Whereas complaint centers around being independent, lament deepens our dependence as we place our hope in God.
And, the release and freedom we find in lament leaves us thankful.
The Key of Gratitude, Part 2: Releasing Comparison
Gratitude is a key that unlocks the door to awareness of and abiding in the presence of God. Experiencing God’s presence with us is the default setting of our lives. It is not something that is inaccessible but something we return to again and again as we practice: now, here, this (see part 1). God is always present but we may not have eyes to see all the ways He is loving us and with us, especially when we are in the midst of difficult seasons.
Our blindness and lack of awareness may be because of a lack of gratitude. Gratitude is also a kind of default setting in our lives. When not clouded by other things, we look at a beautiful sunrise and we find ourselves thankful we were able to witness it. Someone helps us and we are grateful. We receive a compliment and we say, “thank you.” With gratitude, we see the fullness of what is.
If it seems gratefulness is difficult to access, might it be that our vision has been clouded? The German mystic, Meister Eckhart, said: “God is not found in the soul by adding anything, but by a process of subtraction.” Might it be that we need to release something? To subtract something that is holding us back?
One of the things that we might subtract is comparison. Rather than receiving a sunrise as a gift, we are focused on how we wish we were like someone else. “That person has it so good … I wish I lived in their house … I wish I had their family … I wish I had that job.” The list could go on but you get the idea.
Do you ever find yourself locked in comparison? If you do, you’re in good company. This is a struggle for most of us. We have a need to experience unconditional love and acceptance. We have a need to feel content in our own skin … not having to perform or produce to experience love.
The world around us tells us that we don’t have enough and that we aren’t enough. This message is embedded in the advertisements and conversations that frequently reach us. The idea is that being enough and having enough comes as we measure up to some subjective, unreachable standard. Without the ability to reach what is ultimately unreachable, we rely upon comparison. We look out at the world and reason, “well, at least I have it better than that person.” And when that begins, we are locked into a cycle of comparison. We may have it “better” than some but the inclination to compare extends to everyone and we are left consider all who have it “better” than us as well.
Of course, these measurements are ridiculous because they exist on a scale that is inaccurate and faulty in its very premise. The love and acceptance for which we are designed are not measured by anything external. In fact, this love is unconditional … or, unmeasurable.
The truth is that you are the beloved of God. He loves you with no condition or measurement (Luke 15). He made you and you are His handcrafted piece of art (Ephesians 2:10). Stop there for a moment and consider these truths. Hold these truths in your heart. Let His love for you invade your thinking. You are enough. You have enough. Because of Jesus, you have abundance of life (John 10:10). Not necessarily abundance of positive circumstances but abundance of life. And what is life? The life we long for is love, because God is love (1 John 4).
As you experience comparison, simply release it by remembering that you have all that you need … you are enough and you have enough. Consider again those three words: now, here, this. Now – in this moment, you have enough. Here – in this place, you are with God. This – in these circumstances, you have all you need.
This may feel like a battle at times but as you practice releasing comparison, it becomes easier. Release and then rest in gratitude as you thank God for His love and grace toward you. And, as gratitude is uncovered, you will see His presence with you. Gratitude will unlock what may have seemed inaccessible. Just as comparison can snowball into an avalanche of misery, gratitude can unfold into seeing the infinite ways God is with you and is loving you.
Another name for gratitude like this is contentment.
The Key of Gratitude, part 1
As we move into thanksgiving week, we may find ourselves not feeling very thankful. It has been quite a year. From the pandemic to racial injustice to job losses to a contentious election, we are likely feeling and experiencing a lot of things and thankfulness is possibly not one of them. We’re tired of hearing the word “unprecedented.” We’re exhausted from relational tension. We’re ready to move on.
“Let’s hurry and get to 2021.” “Put out the Christmas decorations and maybe 2020 will just give up and leave us alone!” The impulse to move on is strong even when we know the truth is that all of our challenges won’t go away with decorations or the turn of the calendar to another year. Two things I know are true:
- The present moment is where we experience love, joy, peace, and patience. We can erroneously believe that love will happen in the future or peace will be present when things change. Or, we desire to return to a time in the past where things weren’t so tough and joy seemed to be abundant. The truth is that all of these things (love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, faithfulness) are the result of paying attention to God now. Jesus encouraged us to abide. To abide is to remain, to stay put. To abide means that we stay where we are … with God. “I am the vine and you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for part from me you can do nothing.” (John 15:5, ESV))
- We can’t dismiss our hurts and frustrations as if they are no big deal. We have to walk through them. In Jeremiah 6:14, we read, “they dress the wounds of my people as though it were not serious, ‘Peace, peace,’ they say, when there is no peace.” (NIV) Richard Rohr has commented, “If you do not transform your pain, you will transmit it.” This is why we may find ourselves overreacting to a situation or looking for something to explain away the pain. How is pain transformed? Foundationally, transformation happens as we refuse to deny or ignore but instead be honest about where we are.
Thanksgiving and gratitude can act as keys that unlock the door of staying in the moment and walking through our wounds and hurts. Psalm 100 encourages us to “enter his gates with thanksgiving and his courts with praise … come into His presence with singing.” A grateful heart gives us eyes to see that God is with us and gives us courage to walk through pain. How? When we express gratitude and thanksgiving, we are reminding ourselves that “the Lord is good; his steadfast love endures forever, and his faithfulness to all generations.”
When going through difficult seasons, our impulse is often to find relief when what we really want and need is transformation. As we abide, we are transformed. As we look into the face of God, we are changed: “we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another.” (2 Corinthians 3:18)
Thomas Merton wrote, “The gate of heaven is everywhere.” The Apostle Paul in 1 Thessalonians 5 shares: “Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, and give thanks in all things.” The invitation of God is slow down, stop, and abide with Him as you express gratefulness. When you are experiencing a desire for relief, let that be a reminder that what you really desire is God. There is nothing wrong with wanting relief, but staying with that desire can be a lock on the door of experiencing God’s presence now.
So, let gratitude ground you. Let thanksgiving return you to the present moment. For what can we be grateful? Very simply: that God is good and loving and faithful.
“Life is lived right now, in this moment. That’s an important reminder for all of us, because we tend to think, “If just this would happen, then I would be happy.” When we put a condition on our lives, we miss out on the present moment because we’re waiting for something else to happen.” Br. David Vryhof
Over the next three days, we will look at some of things that can keep us from gratitude: comparison, complaint, and certainty. Today, take a few moments and decide that you will stay where you are … with God. And then, as a desire to get away rises up, simply return to presence … presence to God in gratitude.
Here is a simple way to return to abiding with God … use three words: now, here, this. “Now” – be grounded in the present time (rejoice always). “Here” – be grounded in your present location (pray without ceasing). “This” – be grounded in the present circumstance (give thanks in all circumstances).
Take a Deep Breath
When we are struggling, when we are interacting with difficult things, we are often encouraged to “take a deep breath.” Metaphorically, the idea is to slow down, regroup, and get your bearings. This metaphor has developed because it is genuinely helpful physically to take a deep breath. In fact, often, it is not until we physically slow down and take deep breaths that we can metaphorically take a deep breath and regroup.
Our bodies are made in such a way that when we feel stress, a part of our brain takes over (on some level) in which we are pushed into fight, flight, freeze, or numb. The old wisdom was that we would either engage (fight) or run (flight) but now we know that we can also freeze (just shut down) as well as numb (engage in things that will dull or blunt the feelings we are experiencing). When we breathe in deeply, our bodies calm down and we are able to move out of the pattern of fight, flight, freeze, or numb.
Over the last year, our bodies, minds, and spirits have taken on a lot of stress. I know that is the understatement of the century but I also know that today and coming days will fill us a lot of stress as well. Roughly half of the United States will likely be in a place of despair after the election. The other half may have feelings of elation and/or relief. Whatever the case, the stress will again be palpable and perhaps even more so because relational division is one of the most stressful things we can experience.
So, take a deep breath.
Take a deep breath as you consider what is coming and take a deep breath along the way and in the coming days. When you find yourself experiencing stress, breathe deeply. As a spiritual practice, breathe deeply.
On the physical side of things, many have suggested the 4-7-8 technique. Breathe in through your nose (drawing breath for 4 seconds), hold for 7 seconds, and then exhale through your mouth for a count of 8 seconds. Do this several times and notice your body start to calm.
Next, breathe spiritually.
Let me offer 3 R’s. Remember, Receive, and Rest. Remember that God will never leave you or forsake you (Hebrews 13). Receive that love as all that you need (Ephesians 3). Rest in His love as you let go of fear and anxiety (Matthew 6). Brother David Vryhof offers, “You need not fear any adversary when you know you are unconditionally and forever loved by God. There is nothing that can separate you from God’s love.”
A Way to Practice
First, engage simply in the 4-7-8 breathing technique. Go through this cycle of breathing until you notice that your body is calm. Second, utilize the following statements as you continue to breathe deeply. On the inhale, say the first part of one of the statements below (I remember, I receive, or I rest) quietly in your heart. On the exhale, repeat the second part of one of the three statements. Note: make sure you continue to breathe slowly and deeply.
- I remember … that You never leave me or forsake me.
- I receive … Your love for me as all that I need.
- I rest … in Your love as I let go of fear and anxiety.
This may sound simple and it is! Don’t let the simplicity fool you. It is profound. You will learn to regulate your bodily response to stress and you will deepen the spiritual connection that affects how you will encounter continued stress.
Lord, may we remember that your love is “as high as the heavens” and your faithfulness “extends to the clouds.” May we receive that love as all that we need. May we rest as we release fear and anxiety. Amen.
Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash
Welcome Everything
Coming this fall … new book:
In Welcome Everything, Ted serves as a guide through some of the spiritual contours of a journey through cancer. The story of his battle with both acute myeloid leukemia and Hodgkins Lymphoma is detailed through sharing excerpts from a blog written during two and half years of treatments, surgeries, relapses, a transplant, and a whole host of side effects. Addressing issues that are experienced in a cancer journey as well as any kind of suffering, a hope and an identity securely tied in Christ are themes that run through these pages. Interspersed are chapters of current reflections, looking back at the terrain traversed in these tumultuous years. Not a self-help book or a guide to cancer, this book is a look at what it means to welcome everything, including cancer, as a teacher that can bring more into one’s life that could ever be imagined.
Judgmentalism and a Deeper Life
Photo credit: Gina Daggett
Judgmentalism is very frequently a survival strategy. Beneath it perhaps an anger that one is not in control. Beneath that a sadness and grief that can open us to receive from God rather than demand from others.
Do you find yourself in a place of judgement with others? Jesus suggested that we remove the log from our own eye before trying to take the splinter out of another’s eye.
If you find yourself judging (i.e., saying “if only those people would …” or “how can they think those things?”), it is not a sign of righteousness but an invitation to look deeper.
Are you angry? Are there things you have lost that you are grieving? Can you let them go?
Take a few moments and search your heart, with God, and watch your heart melt into His.
Grace, an Ocean
There is no if … only since.
Enveloped safe and secure.
Inescapable, His presence.
His presence is indeed His love.
It holds and upholds.
Infinitely stretching in all directions.
Height, depth, length, width.
So, I surrender and rest …
… surrounded and confounded …
by the One who never lets me go.
_______________________________________
Oceanside, 2020
An Examen: Living as an Antiracist Person
For many of us, we are realizing that the statement “I’m not a racist” is not enough. Better is to say “I’m antiracist.” In other words: proactively standing against racism in our hearts and minds, in our interactions with others, and in the way we strive to see our cultural institutions operate. In that spirit, we offer this examen. An examen is a structured prayer in which we are led to prayerfully reflect on our lives by focusing on being present to God and asking God to search our hearts and guide our steps.
*set aside time daily to slowly pray through these questions
1. Remind yourself that you are in God’s presence. Give thanks for God’s grace in your life. Give thanks for God’s love for all who have been made in His image.
2. Pray for the grace to understand how God is at work in you as it relates to living as an antiracist person. Review, with God, the call to be active in bringing peace and justice to the world around you.
As you consider the injustice of racism, what does the Spirit seem to be stirring in your spirit? Do I extend the peace of Christ to people of color with my words, deeds, actions and influence? How have I allowed the evil of racism to affect me? Have I “wept with those who weep?”
3. Review your day … Ask God to search your heart and mind to see how embedded thought patterns of bias might have affected you today.
Have I done anything to diminish the image of God in my neighbor, friend, colleague or family members that are persons of color? Did I say hurtful words to someone or about someone because of their race? Have I been silent when I could have spoken peace and truth into a racially biased or explicitly racist situation?
4. Reflect on what you did, said, or thought in those instances. Were you drawing closer to God’s heart concerning racial injustice, or further away?
Are my private thoughts uplifting and loving towards all races? Do I recognize people of color as fearfully and wonderfully made? Where do I struggle with this the most? a specific person, people group or environment? Where can I let go of my ego and make more space for racial justice?
Are there ways in which I promoted peace and extended love to people of color?
Take a few moments to repent and ask for forgiveness where it is needed, and then celebrate with God where you see growth and transformation.
5. Look toward tomorrow — think of how you might collaborate more effectively with God’s heart to extend brotherly and sisterly love.
How can I speak up, show up and affirm people of color in my life? in society? What action can I take tomorrow to nourish the longing for racial justice?
Are there things that need to be undone? Is there someone to whom I need to apologize? Is there someone to whom I need to reach out?
How can I be antiracist in my community of influence as well as help in the work of larger societal change? What ongoing values and actions will I apply towards living a life as an antiracist person?
Examen Written Collaboratively by Vernée Wilkinson and Ted Wueste
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Note: I began working on this about two weeks ago with a friend who lives in Boston. This is an examen (prayer exercise) that is designed to do daily. When I asked Vernée about whether we should encourage it as a daily, weekly, or monthly exercise. She responded very quickly that people of color deal with the issues of racism on a daily basis. In solidarity, this is offered as a daily examen. And, if there is a desire to grow in this area, a daily rhythm makes sense spiritually as well. And, clearly, this is not an examen written for people of color but for white people. Thank you, Vernée for initiating this and inviting me to be a part of it. I am already seeing the Lord shift things in me as a result.
If you would like to download a PDF, click on the link below.
A Holy Saturday
On what has been traditionally called Holy Saturday or Silent Saturday, there is a space between what was and what will be.
Before Friday, for the followers of Jesus, including his mother, life was filled with hope and promise and expectation. At the very least, there was a sense of normalcy. Normal routines and normal rhythms of life and faith served as a foundation for how life was experienced.
And then, Friday, a day when all hopes and dreams were dashed. The Messiah, the One would make life good and holy and right, was killed in the cruelest of ways, on a cross, beaten, tortured, naked for all the world to see. Our modern, sanitized depictions of the cross do not do justice to the shame that was poured out upon Jesus.
And now, on Saturday, we are left holding a crown of thorns and wondering what is going on. Conspiracy theories abound, both from those who killed Jesus (they were worried that the followers of Jesus would come and steal the body, cf. Matthew 27:62-65) and likely among His followers. “I knew the Romans would take from us what we hold most dear. They have been doing that for years.” So, the disciples sequestered, huddled together in confusion, doubt, and despair. We know from the two followers who went back home to Emmaus (Luke 24) that even though they had heard Jesus say he would be resurrected and there was testimony from an angel, they were done.
So, we sit, holding a crown of thorns. The thorns have blood on them, remnants of a life too soon gone. The thorns are prickly and if we don’t hold them just right, they draw out our blood as well. Everything is uncomfortable. Nothing is normal. The loss seems too much to bear.
And even in this, there is a nudging sense that if we wait, there has to be more to the story. It is so hard to let that possibility rise to the surface. In some ways, we don’t want to embrace it. We’d rather sit in our despair. It’s easier.
When seemingly everything to which we’ve held tight has died, how do we wait? How do we move into the next day? How do we not take the wine that Jesus refused on the cross and drink ourselves into numbness? Saturday is an opportunity to feel what we feel and also believe that just maybe there is more to the story. Both are important. Both are real.
In many ways, in our world today, we are between what was and what will be. For many, we’ve experienced pain and confusion and loss. All of the “normal” has been turned upside down, things as significant as gathering with others or the less significant but comforting beginning of a baseball season. We have wondered about conspiracy theories. We are inundated with voices giving us so much data. We’ve also tasted, perhaps, some beauty and that nudging sense that maybe there is something even more beautiful on the other side.
Consider these words,
“So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.” (2 Corinthians 4:16-18)
How might you look to the “unseen” things even as you grieve the losses? Are there “normal” things in life that you can let die so that you might find something more beautiful? That is the hope of resurrection and that is the only way we’ll make it through Saturday and be prepared to receive the gifts of Sunday.
Maybe, just maybe, we will find that all which is truly significant can never be lost, no matter the circumstance. We might be separated from so much but that which is the essence of life can never be lost. (Romans 8:37-39)
Look at the Birds
To people living with anxiety, Jesus said something incredibly simple and also amazingly profound. But before we get to that, I want to clarify a few things about anxiety and fear. Often, we misunderstand the nature of anxiety and fear as well as what God says about them.
First, if you are not feeling some sense of anxiety in the midst of this global pandemic, then you are likely not paying attention. Anxiety might not be ruling you but some level of anxiety and/or fear is the normal response to seeing people getting deathly sick and wondering if you will be the next to lose your job. If you aren’t seeing it directly or asking those questions directly, it should be unnerving as you consider those who are. In addition, the massive changes to regular routines and having to stay at home shifts things in our bodies and souls even if we are not aware of it.
Disorientation is what everyone is experiencing. To be oriented is to have regularity, rhythm, peace, and a sense of place. Even for those who normally experience significant emotional and spiritual health, these days are disorienting. Things are not normal. And, this affects us. For some it is debilitating and for others it is milder but we are all in the same boat. We are in a boat of unchartered waters and we aren’t sure where exactly the boat is going and we aren’t sure what’s in the murky water around us.
Second, fear is not a bad thing. I’ve heard so many saying, “Don’t be afraid.” Or, others quoting Bible verses that command “do not fear.” This is a simplistic understanding of both emotions and the biblical text.
Fear is a good thing. It is a gift from God! Fear is a bodily response to dangerous situations. Or, at the very least, it is a response to perceived danger. Fear is a warning light on the dashboard of our souls that tells us we need to stop and investigate what is going on.
If we couldn’t feel fear, then we wouldn’t get out of the way of a grizzly bear charging at us. Or, we might not take seriously the threat of getting sick if we are not wise about how we orient our lives during a pandemic. However, there are also times that we experience fear and it is something for which we don’t need to be afraid. For example, we might be afraid of a committed relationship because of past hurts or failures. Or, we might find ourselves in fear of God because we grew up in an environment that told us God will punish us if we engage in a certain behavior. And, another issue that might arise is the intensity of our fear. Some fear might be appropriate in a situation but not to the level that it leaves us unable to live in peace.
The challenge is discernment. As we experience fear, it is a place to meet God in prayerful presence, asking God, “what do I need to see about this situation?” and “how should I respond?” Ultimately, this kind of discernment leads to a place of trust and surrender to the will of God. When we simply say, “I’m not afraid,” it could very well be that we are ignoring reality or ignoring our own experience. In addition, we can’t rid of fear by willing it away. We can’t deal with fear by acting like it is not there. When we do this, we shut down a part of our soul and we miss out on the opportunity to grow deeper into the reality that we are the beloved of God, cared for and held by His grace.
Third, when the Bible says “do not fear,” there is often more going on than a simplistic, blanket statement that fear should never be a part of our experience. The challenge to not fear in the Scriptures is an acknowledgment that fear is a part of the human experience. And, these commands are not judgmental in nature. I would suggest that they are more invitational. When Jesus says, in Matthew 6, “do not be anxious,” it could also be translated with the tone: “you don’t have to be anxious.” In other words, this is not how you have to live. Finally, many of the Scriptures that talk about fear are encouragements to not fear the supernatural – for example: do not be afraid of God, do not be afraid of this angel, do not be afraid of God’s calling in your life, etc.
As we bring our lives into the prayerful awareness of a good, sovereign God, fears are put into context and we are able to live with a sense of peace. There is a difference between fear being our dominant reality and living with peace and confidence and hope in the middle of situations that scare us. I can “feel” certain things and also rest in the knowledge that my life is secure in the love of God. Most often, our responses to fear are described with the words: fight, flight, or freeze. “Fight” can look noble but it can end up damaging others and ourselves. Flight takes us away from things that truly matter. Freeze can numb us to the point where we don’t feel much of anything. Faith, on the other hand, is a settled, peaceful experience that doesn’t come through any of these three paths.
In Matthew 6, when Jesus says, “do not be anxious,” He invites us to a way of life in which anxiety and fear do not dominate us. He doesn’t simply say that we should stop being afraid but He offers a practice and way of perceiving life that can fundamentally shift our way of being.
He says, “look at the birds” and “consider the flowers.” Both verbs speak of looking intently at something or we might even say, contemplating. As we contemplate the birds and the flowers, two things happen and both of them are suggested in the text.
First, we shift our focus onto the love and care of God. Rather than wondering if we are going to have something to eat or wear, the birds and the flowers remind us of God’s provision and care. By scale, how much more does He love us? Jesus also says, “Is not life more than clothing and food?” When we stop and look at the birds and flowers, we are reminded: “yes, life is more than that! It is about resting in relationship” (seek first His kingdom). And, then, we are challenged to remember than anxiety is unproductive. In the hands of a loving, caring God, my life is secure because I can’t add anything with worry.
Author and psychologist James Finley says: “If we are absolutely grounded in the absolute love of God that protects us from nothing even as it sustains us in all things, then we can face all things with courage and tenderness and touch the hurting places in others and ourselves with love.” (shared by Pastor Jim Clark, Saint Barnabas on the Desert Episcopal Church) The birds and flowers ground us in the love of God.
Second, contemplating the birds and flowers roots us in the present moment. “Therefore, do not be anxious about tomorrow.” The simple act of stopping and looking at birds and flowers roots our bodies and souls in the now. We get into trouble with anxiety and fear as we fixate on the future. When we are continually living in the future with “what if” and “what about”, we are not present to reality. The ability to plan and think about the future is a gift from God but we are not meant to live in the future. Now is where God is. Now is where relationships are. Now is where Spirit produces love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.
So, I would argue that Jesus wasn’t simply using birds and flowers as teaching props but also as an invitation actually stop and contemplate. As we do, we can experience being grounded in the love of God and being rooted in the present moment. Then, fears and anxieties serve us rather than dominate us. Then, we are free to love and live with God and others.
Today, how will you stop and contemplate the birds and flowers? Perhaps, it is on a walk. Perhaps, it is through pictures or a video. Perhaps, it is through your imagination. However, you engage it – let it be a prayerful noticing that God is holding your life through all things!
desert direction 