a prophetic voice-

The best-laid plans...why do they do often go astray? Perhaps to remind us that, in the long haul of things, life is not in our control... that things happen- like snowstorms and respiratory viruses...like the death of a beloved son and the birthday of another. In spite of my best intentions to do the daily yoga challenge during Lent, beginning on Ash Wednesday, here I am on Sunday with nothing begun. Yet looking out the window yesterday, seeing the winds pulling the trees this way and that, I realized...I realize that this IS life...this buffeting, this being tossed, this having to respond to happenings rather than controlling them. And it is, after all, our response to what happens that determines who we are, who we will become. Exactly nineteen years ago, my life was devastated by a single phone call telling me of the death of my oldest son...and for nearly two years I was "dead"...inside nothing lived- or so it seemed. Oh, I funtioned, went through the motions, kept p...

According to the Farmers' Almanac, North Carolina was supposed to get snow today- so it arrived one day early. Still, not bad for predicting a year in advance, especially with regards to the weather here in the Piedmont, which can change from hour-to-hour, let alone day-to-day. Looking out the windows of my study, I can see the pristine white of the yard, the white icing on the tree branches. But all too soon, as the temperatures rise today, the snow white beauty will disappear, and by mid-week the weather prognosticators are promising temperatures in the sixties. Reminders that this is one area of life (of course there are many, but we like to fool ourselves) which we cannot control...which operates on its own natural cycle. Oh, yes, as a species we can impact it on a grand, overall scale, and we should be ever mindful of that. But here in High Point, NC, sitting at my desk, gazing out the window, I can only marvel at the surprises and glories and wonders of the natural world- and...

Ah! the sky lightens... not quite seven and the day is dawning. Day break- yet it does not break at all but creeps in silently on tiptoe as the barely perceptible changes in the sky whisper of the sun's coming. Night gives way gently to day... the moon fadng slowly as the sun's light overtakes hers outshines her, sending her into deep sleep until its setting invites her back into the eastern sky, while the dying light of the sun paints the western horizon with an indescribable palette of color...and the gloaming settles gently into the velvet dark of night.      Another day of living...      another day. 

My life keeps re-shaping itself, as new opportunities present themselves, new doors open, new windows are flung open to let in unexpected light. My position as Chaplain at the Lutheran Home Winston-Salem is proving to be one of those. First steps were tentative at best, as I found myself asking myself over and over again what it meant to be ministering in such a place, where so many of the residents seem "out of reach" to the conventional, comfortable, safe ways of doing ministry. But slowly, gradually, Love has showed its beautiful face and I am learning to share that love with people who are becoming ever dearer to me as the days go by. One challenge has been a woman who is profoundly deaf...and each time I stopped by to see her, the experience was frustrating for both of us, as communication seemed impossible. Physically unable to write, she seems trapped in a world of silence, broken only by the moving mouths of those caring for her. Frustrated by my seeming inability t...