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Naked Rocks and Other Good News

Look to the rock from which you were hewn. Look to Abraham, who was one but I made him many. Look to Sarah, who was thirsty but I made her an oasis. Before you cower in fear of others’ disappointment, before you hang your head in doubt, look to the moths that will devour pride like garments and the worms that will consume judgment like wool. (adapted from Isaiah 51:1b-3, 7-8)

Insecurity: thy name is Abraham, fretting over his legacy.  

Cynicism: thy name is Sarah, doubting all hope and possibility. 

Who would you prefer to be, Insecurity? A man basking in billions? A prince defending his throne? A god directing heaven’s chariots? What guarantee of tribute would be sufficient? What pedestal of acclaim would be enough? How thick a garment of pride must you wear to be warm? 

And if you fall short of the highest glories, if your name does not echo forever among the mountains, how will you know it from your grave? 

My dear Cynicism, what defeat are you imagining? The unchanged status quo? The demise of all things good? The triumph of self-interest? What proof of joy can relieve your fear? What evidence of renewal can bring you peace? Is the daily rising of the sun not enough? Is the wool over your eyes too tight for you to peek at grace? 

And if tomorrow you are disappointed yet again by the wonders and miracles around you, if they do not pass your judgment, will you be any less alive? 

Look to the rock from which life was hewn, O Insecurity. Look to the dirt into which love was breathed, O Cynicism. Are they clothed in pride or wrapped in doubt? And yet the bare rock became a foundation, and the musty earth bore new life.

Prayer: Forgive me, O God, for clinging so tightly to what does not matter and for giving up so quickly on what does. 

cross-posted with the UCC Daily Devotional

Telling Time

Is it time to pray again?
Is it time to march again?
Is it once again time to grieve, time to rage, time to resist?

Is it ever not?

So long as we have breath, it is time.

Not because there is a cause.
Not because there is a moment.
Not because it’s never been like this, or it’s worse now, or it’s a critical tipping point.

Because we are part of all life.

Because we have this breath.

The big hand always points to kinship.
The little hand to humility, love, wonder.
Take away the hands and the face of the clock will still tell the time: mercy.

The sin is losing track of time.

The sin is forgetting we breathe.

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