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Weekly devotionals based on soul tending in the book of Psalms.

Jeanette’s Husband

/ Anthea Kotlan / 2 Comments

Jeanette’s husband caught my eye on aisle four, just passed the baked goods. I had no business even walking down that aisle leading to the altar to carbs, but these things happen. This man was focused, careful and intent on filling his basket with all that was on a hand-written list.

Sometime later our baskets passed again near the back of the store surrounded by valentine’s candy and paper goods. And I wonder why I so often stop in for a few items and walk out with an overflowing cart of so much more than I originally intended?

Finally, I made aim to pay and leave. There were many self-check-out stands available, only two checkers working today with a store full of people. My long day impressed upon me the need to push the easy button, and let a qualified and trained individual tally my total and bag my groceries. This choice would be costly. I got settled in with my phone in hand, and prepared to scroll my wait time away

Every minute or so I would check to see how the customers in front of me were moving forward until it came down to just one woman in front of me. This lady stood between me and the freedom of the parking lot. I thought she was done…checked-out and leaving. I hurdled forward only to find that she had turned around and come back. Despite the fact that I had begun to occupy the space she had spent so much time in. She was not dissuaded by my presence but instead focused on Kathryn, the checker.

“I just want to thank you for all you did to help me. You were so kind, and I wasn’t sure how to do that thing, but you…” Her words went on, but my focus drifted. My annoyance mushroomed.

Other people had joined the line behind me, but when they saw what was going on just ahead of me, one by one they gave up. Half my basket was now spread widely across Kathryn conveyer belt. To turn back now seemed impossible. I took a deep breath and went back to focusing on my phone. Scroll, look up, scroll, look up with annoyance, scroll.

As soon as the lady ahead left for the second time, Kathryn looked over to me and smiled warmly. “How are you today?” She paused ever so slightly as she lifted my can of green beans to the scanner, all the while gazing directly into my eyes. A deliberate pause invited a real answer.

We exchanged a few personal pieces of information. Her job history, my own experience years ago as a checker, and her recent celebration of two decades spent with her current employer all flowed out. As she was hefting each well packed bag into my arms, I got more than just my groceries.

“Did you hear about Jeanette?” He sat behind us in his electric buggy with his World War II baseball cap askew over a sad look of resignation.

Kathryn expressed her curiosity and that gave him a green light to pour out his story.

Evidently his wife had fallen and broken her hip. He went on to explain that at 94 years old he was her sole caregiver, and they had no one to help. “Could you pray for her?”

I stood by watching this exchange, all the while Kathryn finished bagging my items.

“I’ll pray for your wife. I’m so sorry.” My comment felt like a brash interruption to a sacred exchange for these two , and yet I felt compelled to offer salve to this weary pilgrim.”

“Semineau is the name, if you remember that one. We’re from New Orleans. We came here after we lost everything in Katrina.”

Words escaped me. How does one greet such a burden of loss?

My fussing about waiting fell away as I saw all these two were carrying. One an exhausted caregiver, and the other a retail missionary. How small my concerns seemed in light of all that had been revealed!

Would you join me this week in praying for Jeanette and for her husband, a real hero, and a retail store missionary called Kathryn.

Who Touched Me?

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Crowds of people surrounded Jesus, and somehow, she finds her way close enough to touch his garment. Transformation charged the atmosphere. Immediately the flow of blood dried up, and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease. (Mark 5:29 ESV) Years of seeking healing from every source stopped with this divine appointment. 

And Jesus, perceiving in himself that power had gone out from him, immediately turned about in the crowd and said, “Who touched my garments?” 31 And his disciples said to him, “You see the crowd pressing around you, and yet you say, ‘Who touched me?’” (Mark 5:30-31 ESV) 

The disciples dismiss Jesus’ question, and yet, he persists. 

And he looked around to see who had done it. But the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came in fear and trembling and fell down before him and told him the whole truth. (Mark 5:32-33 ESV) 

This woman “came in fear” when she simply could have slipped away. Carrying with her the knowledge of her long-awaited healing. However, she “fell before him and told him the whole truth.” 

Fear might have gripped her heart as she turned to face this Rabbi. She had spent years in an unclean state unable to attend her local synagogue let alone have a conversation with a man in his position. What if he took her healing back?

How did she even find space to fall before him?  

Did Jesus need help understanding what had happened?  Did he need to hear the whole truth? No, he knew.  

Perhaps some answers emerge in the words Jesus spoke over her that day, 

“And he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.” (Mark 5:34 ESV) 

By calling her daughter, Jesus speaks to her as someone who is deeply known, loved and valued. He affirms her for her faith and encourages her to walk into her new life in peace, knowing her disease is gone. Before the crowd, Jesus declared over her a new identity. Shame fell away. Health embraces both her body, mind, and spirit. By drawing near, this woman receives complete healing from the inside out. 

Prayer 

Jesus, show me how I need to draw near to you and remain there. Reveal to me how you define me and allow me to shed any false ideas that I might have taken on. Help me to come and go in peace because of you. Help me to believe in your healing touch in the now and the not yet. Amen  

Prepare Him Room

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Have you ever seen a lady who is nine months pregnant up on a ladder painting a room? That is precisely the scene I walked in on at the end of September at my daughter’s house. Nesting mode had hit her hard and she was determined to prepare the way for her soon to be born son, Ian Michael. This meant moving her toddler out of the nursery and creating a brand new “big girl” room for Margaret complete with flower petal pink walls.

A season of intense preparation can feel very overwhelming. The desperate need to be ready might lead to pushing the limits of energy, wisdom, finances and sanity.

Are you ready for Christmas? Is that a question that strikes fear in your heart? Me too, it’s ever so slightly overwhelming to think that you can single-handedly meet everyone’s expectations. Expectations can threaten to crush us this time of year. Are you trying to do all the things? Me too.

Advent, which begins this year on Sunday, 11/29 is a time set aside on the liturgical calendar that gives us margin for preparation. It’s a season of less than 30 days of intentional, internal readying we all really need in our hearts in order to embrace the Christmas season. For many of us Christmas has become one penultimate day of the year when we overdo everything and end up in a heap on the floor. Not that you, would end up in a heap on the floor, that might just be me.

Advent counts down each week leading up to Christmas with a daily lighting of a candle in an advent wreath. Saying a prayer, and taking just five minutes to prepare some room to get ready for the arrival of Jesus as a baby. This ancient ritual place makes margin for setting my mind again on what is truly important. If done on a regular basis, it might lower my own anxiety and feelings of expectational pressure.

So, the question today is do you need to get up on a ladder and paint a room in order to be ready for Jesus’s birthday? No, but I do believe we need to find ways to prepare our hearts and minds for the celebration of his birth. Perhaps picking up an Advent routine could bring you peace and joy?

If you are interested in learning more about Advent, consider this your personal invitation to my church’s online Advent Event on Sunday, 11/29 at 3 pm. We’ll have some Advent carols and an author and speaker, Monica Warren, share an encouraging Advent message with us. Email me for the Zoom link – antheak66@gmail.com.

The Valley of the Shadow of Death – Psalm 23

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I have a notoriously terrible sense of direction, so it makes sense that I feel quite lost.

Long before smart phones and portable navigational devices, my father used to give me turn-by-turn directions written out on a piece of paper with his draftsman neat lettering to aid me safely get to my destination. Freeway lane to selection was also noted in order to be in the correct place to exit or merge. The Houston freeway system does not ascribe to the notion of right lane exit theory. Random left lane exits pop up to create surprise or alarm on any given road trip. Surely my father’s mind must have boggled to even have to do this for me his daughter. Surely genetically I should have been predisposed to have an amazing sense of direction like him. Alas an internal sense of north, south, east and west and map reading skills was not my inheritance.

Does God get boggled by this child of his being disoriented by His plan for my father and myself?

Currently I am lost off center wondering what will happen next on this grief journey. It has felt like the travel agent has not provided me directions or even an estimated time of arrival. I am in and out of the waiting room as my father lies dying in a room in a facility that has cared for him in recent years. He was the victim of both Parkinson’s disease and Parkinson’s Dementia. A particularly vicious attack on one’s brain and central nervous system featuring delusions and even vivid hallucinations that render the recipient in need of round the clock secure care. I will be forever grateful that I managed to find a great team who has done just that. They have linked arms even in the midst of a world pandemic and cared very well for my father. The strict and predictable schedule did wonders to relieve my father’s anxiety as he battled a time delusion that caused him to believe that someone had changed the clocks over and over. I imagine it must have perhaps felt to him like changing time zones over and over or endless daylight savings’ time changes.  

Today as I continue the on again off again vigil by my father’s bed, I feel so disoriented. I am indeed walking in the valley of the shadow of death. The words of Psalm 23 come to my mind. God knew how chaotic walking through dying would feel to a people he created for eternity. He inspired David to write these words as a set of directions for me to read. It’s like my father painstakingly writing out the turn by turn directions for me almost forty years ago all over again. God has issued me a sort of turn by turn directives contained in Psalm 23.

The psalm begins by establishing who will be leading me and my father in this expedition thru the valley, Jesus the Good Shepherd. According to the second verse we will begin the journey with rest. This certainly doesn’t feel very efficient. However, truly God knows about the exhaustion of a grief journey. God also gives direction regarding my emotions as He commands me to set aside fear and take comfort in seeing Jesus’ rod and staff, symbols of protection and guidance. God even promises to prepare snacks for the journey and anoint my head with oil. This was actually a way that shepherds protected their sheep from being tormented by insects. God promises to provide goodness and love for my entire life because of who He is not based on what I have done. He has also promised to do this for my father. My Dad’s work on this earth is done but somehow as we wait, God is still at work there. Finally, God assures me that I will live in His house forever. This will be my father’s residence very soon and eventually my own. It is a snapshot of the now and not yet.

My father passed away in his sleep on Sunday, September 20th about two weeks after I wrote this. I am grateful that the Good Shepherd called him into the heavenly flock during his nightly watch.

What is soul tending?

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Photo by Ksenia Chernaya on Pexels.com

Have you ever considered the notion of soul tending?

Beloved, I pray that all may go well with you and that you may be in good health, as it goes well with your soul. (3 John 1:2 ESV)

While many of us have a clear notion of what it means to:

  • Maintain an automobile: regular oil changes, new tires, and factory maintenance
  • Maintain our bodies: a healthy diet, regular exercise, vitamins, hiring a personal trainer
  • Maintain our homes: regular repairs or hiring a handy man (or woman), working in the yard, creating a weekly cleaning schedule, and more.

 Are we taking good care of our souls? How do we, in the words of John make sure it goes well with our soul? What does good soul maintenance even look like?

What do you think?

Leaving Room for Lament

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Leaving Room for Lament

I listened to a wonderful podcast recently from Annie F. Downs (Episode #221) as she interviewed Pastor Eugene Cho. Cho talked about a need to lament in this season of Corona virus.  Have you given yourself permission to lament lately? Pastor Cho asked.

I think it is challenging to make room for lament in a culture that encourages us to move on, avoid, and move past suffering. Who wants to get stuck in suffering’s waiting room?

What is lament?

Lament is a form of prayer where we cry out to the Lord and express our pain point. We see this modeled in the Bible. One third of the Psalms were written in the lament form. There is actually a whole book of Lamentations in the Bible. Even Jesus lamented from the cross in Psalm 22. A great study on lament is tucked into the book of Job. There we see poor Job experience the worst losses perhaps anyone has ever experienced.

In chapter one, Job loses everything. He loses all his adult children, most of his servants, all his livestock, and everything else he owned. Almost all that filled Job’s life to overflowing was systematically wiped out with a brutal efficiency.

After this, Job opened his mouth and cursed the day of his birth. He said: “May the day of my birth perish, and the night that said, ‘A boy is conceived!’ (Job 3:1-3 ESV)

In this chapter Job launches a volley of questions and laments in a long procession that makes room for the grief he is experiencing. He needs to do this. He must unload the weight of all he is experiencing in the ultimate safety that exists in the sacred space we occupy with God when we pray.

Human nature is to blame others. We try to move as far away from our pain and what we perceive to be its source as is possible. We make excuses and create distance. We try to numb our pain with food, alcohol, busyness, screen time, escape. These avoidance techniques can look different for everyone.

We want to short-circuit the grieving process and not sit in our pain. We want to move on and run to the next experience. When we do these things, we miss an opportunity for growth. Job laments his pain and spews it out word after painful word.

Many of us have experienced loss during this pandemic. Pastor Cho encourages us to work through our losses by naming them and bringing them into the light. This is necessary, explains Cho, because we try ignoring them, excusing them away, minimizing them by comparison, (it wasn’t as bad as someone else’s loss), stuffing them, obsessing on them. None of that is healthy. Cho suggests we make a list with the Lord. Write the losses and disappointments down and then tell God about them. He already knows, but you will be blessed by doing this. Ask the Holy Spirit to remind you of the losses you may have lost track of. You might even have losses that you haven’t allowed yourself to even think about. Process through your pain. Failure to do this will result in your spiritual growth getting stunted. In this season, leave room for lament.

Prayer

Blessed are those who lament because you promise in your Word God that we will receive comfort. I ask that you bring a blessing of comfort as we take time to lament our losses. We desperately want to grow and bring honor and glory to you. We want to be strong so we can offer comfort to others from the overflow of all we have received from you. Amen