Author: Mari Walker

Start children off on the way they should go, and even when they are old, they will not turn from it.

Proverbs 22:6

Years ago, when I was in elementary school in St. Petersburg, Florida, I went to Sunday school at a little church a little more than a mile from my house. The church was within walking distance, and when I eventually got a bike, I rode. Each Sunday before separating into our small grade-level groups, we met together for opening exercises and music. Mr. G was our pianist.

I never actually knew Mr. G’s last name. It was too long and complicated for us to pronounce, he said, and G was all that we needed. This was just before and during the early days of WWII and since then I have often wondered if Mr. G. was a refugee from central Europe. He was an older man—he looked ancient to me—who lived alone as a permanent resident in a hotel not far from the church.

For the Sunday school, Mr. G played the traditional hymns we sang and also gave us the gift of original songs and choruses he wrote. I remember being impressed by their beautiful melodies and wish I could hear them again.

For Christmas and Easter, Mr. G devised programs for the Sunday school children to present to the church. We practiced weekly for months before the holiday. We sang in parts—for one Easter he prepared a simplified Hallelujah Chorus for us. Those with special singing talents were given solos but singing was not my strong point. I was still included because I had a talent for memorizing and reciting Scripture passages. That year I shared from Luke 2: 1-20 and participating in the program was an important part of my life.

By the time I entered high school, my family had relocated across the bay to Tampa. I moved into a different world with new friends and new interests.

While I was no longer in contact with Mr. G, his influence on my later life remained strong. I have found myself working with young people during most of my life, often putting together or writing plays and programs for school and church. Would I have done all of that without the model of that long-ago friend?

Prayer: Dear Lord, thank you for the friends who guide us on our ways through life. Help us to be worthy guides to those who follow. Amen.

Guy W. Johnson

A few days ago, I sat comfortably with my youngest granddaughter, Anna, and as we snuggled together, relishing time and love, she reached up and touched a tiny cross at the nape of my neck. “Is that your forever necklace?” I was puzzled and she explained, “Well, Mama has a necklace that she wears every day. It’s her ‘forever necklace.’”

Immediately I knew what she was talking about because I remember picking out that particular necklace and giving it to her mom as a gift.

I explained that yes, it was my favorite lil’ cross, and yes, I guess it was my “forever necklace,” as I wear it almost every day.

Then I pondered the deeper meaning, my “forever cross.” Daily I wear that cross, a tiny ornamental piece of jewelry, and I’ve noticed that when something worrisome or extraordinarily joyful happens, I automatically reach up to that little cross at my neck and hold on to it fast, clutched in my fist. It’s just a physical response, and that lil’ cross is nothing magical in and of itself. Yet, it represents sooo much more to me! It represents faith of the “old rugged cross” to which I cling. And, by the same token, when my faith is weak, as it often is, it represents a deep hunger of the heart, a fervent prayer that cries out, “Oh, please, please, please, Lord, help me!”

When I bathe and dress for the day and put on that tiny cross, I’m reminded to Whom I belong, I’m reminded Whose family I represent, and I remember Who goes before me and with me in difficult circumstances. I’m reminded that even though some days are overly quiet and too long, I know that I’m not alone because He is with me. I’m reminded of the love He showed to me through the substitutionary death of His son. I’m reminded of His deep blessing of grace that invites me into eternal life, my “forever life!”

Yes, Anna, it is, indeed, my “forever necklace!”

“Bootsie” Johnston

The Lord had done great things for us; we were joyful…Those who sow in tears will reap with shouts of joy.

Psalm 126: 3, 5

How can you sign for your 17-year-old son to join the Marines? Well, it is an honorable profession. What if he gets killed? He could be killed by walking across the street and a bus hitting him. More come back from a war than those who do not.

Mama, I am shipping out to Iraq tomorrow. Remember that we love you very much!! Always remember that God loves you!

Hello, Mama. Have you and Daddy been listening to the news? Why do you ask? Oh, we had a bomb at Al Asad, and I did not want you to worry. We are all fine. The Mosque, however, is not.

Mama, I am okay. I got blown off the back of a truck when an IED hit. I landed in a sand dune. All I could think was, OH NO! They are going to tell my Mama that I drowned in sand. An MP jumped off the truck and asked me if I could run. I said I could, so we ran and hung on the last vehicle in the convoy. You mean you became a moving target. Well, yes, a convoy does not stop for anything because there might be another attack.

I saved a Captain from electrocution today. He was standing in water and touched a live wire. What did you do? I ran and kicked his knees to get him out of the water. Oh, so then you could have been electrocuted. No, I was not in the water.

Today, on our convoy the driver was speeding over the bumpy dirt roads.  I got bounced out of the back of the truck. I looked down and saw the road beneath me. Thank God, the Sergeant reached out and grabbed my arm. He pulled me back into the truck. My head hit the truck bed, and I blacked out.  Mama, the MPs handcuffed me today and took me to the Naval hospital. I had to see the psychiatrist. I probably have PTSD.

Yes, I believed even when all this happened, and I will continue to believe. 

Prayer: 
Oh, Holy God, continue to be with us as we live our daily lives. Although things are rough for many people this year, we live with the HOPE and KNOWLEDGE of the resurrection. The waiting during this pandemic has allowed us to make room in our hearts and minds for You. Make us grow stronger with each day of waiting for Your redemption of the world. Amen.

Daphne G. Grady
Mother of Paul Grady Madden, USMC, honorably discharged June, 2009

Faith Stories – Star Word: Wholeness

We were taught as small children that two halves and four quarters make a whole. Eight pieces to a pizza, five hundred pieces to a puzzle. That even one piece missing would make it incomplete. As little girls, we were told that Cinderella needed both her shoes to become a princess, and it was when she found the missing half that she found her true love.

We grew up collecting our toys, collecting our cards, keeping our sets, and wishing for the rest. 

We dreamed of our perfect husband waiting for us at the other end of the aisle, being told to constantly be on the lookout for the man we would call our other half. 

We grew up, still as children but quite older than before, feeling strong and ready to face the world. We had all our pieces in our arsenal, we knew we were properly indestructible. 

But as we transformed from children into young ladies, we heard all the songs and watched all the movies that told us how to be complete. We questioned if we were in fact whole, but what if there really was a part missing to our heart and soul? Our mothers taught us to suck in our stomachs and curl our hair, how to be to become part of the perfect pair.  

Two tomorrows, a path to each unknown. His hands embraced me as his own. All of my hopes and dreams brought to fruition in the boy who stood before me. The one to give me all the pieces that I had been missing. Yearning for his touch, hungry for his kiss. Little did I know that his craving was different than my own. Strong and overpowering, his greediness sucked what was left of my own. A traitorous mouth with traitorous teeth, he stole all the parts of me that I thought I could forever keep. Her eyes lost their shine, her mouth lost its smile. For her Prince Charming didn’t give her the missing half, but instead took half of what she had left. Down to a fourth, he dug harder into her wounds. Stealing her light, drowning her fire, her first love transformed her world into one that lacked all of her tenderness and desire. A body, missing her heart and soul, having lost all its innocence and purity. Left behind to question what made her so different from the rest and why her life had turned out so differently from what she had always imagined.

Now, a woman in her prime, she was certain that she would find the piece that had become misplaced. Country to country, coast to coast, searching for what she needed the most. Looking at every man as her answer. For he would be the one to give back to her what the first had taken. Her friends moved forward in their lives, down the path she wished she could have taken, introducing her to the ones they called their “better half,” as if him being the better made her all the lesser.

She continued to run even farther away, living in exotic lands, speaking in foreign tongues, thinking that if she searched the ends of the earth that one day she would stumble upon what she forever sought. Throwing coins into every fountain she crossed, seeking the sky for shooting stars, she sent out her wishes at every chance she got. 

She danced between the snowflakes in Russia, she swam in the waters of Brazil, she climbed to the highest peaks in Switzerland, she basked in the sun of France. She explored the globe to find what could make her whole, only to revel in the beauty of the world that God had created for her. The waters unfathomably deep, the skies boundlessly vast, the stars in the sky immeasurable. For if these parts of His greatest creation were uncountable, why must she count her own? For He already knew every piece of her, telling her that the very hairs of her head were all numbered. Must she search and count, when He had it already figured out? She is of more value than the sparrows, the ones that were born with wings who fly freely through the heavens. She watches them dance through the celestial blue, singing songs of delight and praise. And if they can sing, how can she keep from singing? She began to frolic through nature, this time, eyes wandering, soaking it all in rather than using it for her own gain. If He created an entire universe so breathtakingly made, couldn’t He create someone so small just as beautifully and completely made?

The questions filled her mind, the old thoughts replaced by the new, of what more of herself she had yet to meet – those parts of her that had always been with her no matter how far she had run. 

And then she found her answer, buried deep within her. She found her missing piece. She found her. She found ME. 

…

I had always thought they taught us fractions to show us how we were so easily breakable, but instead, maybe I was always meant to learn that each piece of me holds something special of its own. Like the sky, the birds, the waters, the trees, and every beautiful piece that makes up our world. And within me, each piece was perfectly chosen and made by Him, holding every talent, desire, and inspiration of my own. For it was God who led me from one end of the earth to the other to dance in His beauty, to frolic through His wonders, to prance through His rain. 

He made us perfect and complete, lacking in nothing, each piece uniquely and wonderfully made to hold every beautiful thing that makes us who He created us to be. For how can I be incomplete when I come from God? For He has made me in His image, He who is eternally whole. Through His love, I am made whole. I may have searched the entirety of His creation to find what I am missing, only to find it was buried within me the entire time. 

For the missing piece, the other half, everything that I had been searching for wasn’t missing at all. 

Madeline Massett

Star Words

During Epiphany worship on January 3, each of us at St. John’s was offered a special word for the year printed on a star. We are following our individual stars and opening our hearts and minds to see where it takes us in 2021. You can read more here. If you have a reflection about your Star Word, we’d love to hear about it and publish it too.