Author: Mari Walker

Saturday, March 29

Nicodemus

Marketplace in Jerusalem. The week before the Passover festival.

After many days in his study surrounded by his books, pausing in his thoughtful work to hear reports from friends and fellow Sanhedrin members, the venerable doctor of laws Nicodemus has come out for a restful walk in the marketplace. He is accompanied by his bodyguard Samson, a mighty warrior noted for his aversion to conversation.

Nicodemus speaks: “Look at all these people, Samson. They are busy. They are happy. They are looking forward to our great national festival. And they have no idea that there is danger all about them. All this could be destroyed in a day. The Roman army is poised to crush any hint of rebellion. The Sanhedrin is locked in a position of self-preservation. Our zealot terrorists are lurking in every shadow. Good and noble leaders are threatened with disaster.

Some months ago, my friend Joseph of Arimathea told me Jesus would be here for Passover once again. My informants have told me he is here and his actions have redoubled my fears for him. He entered the city on a mule like the kings of old, hailed as king by a crowd of followers. Fortunately, the Romans don’t understand the symbolism of this or they would have imprisoned him immediately. Then he attacked the commercialism of the Temple crowd. They are seeking ways to destroy him. He preaches every day in the Temple with his crowd of followers about him to protect him. They haven’t been able to discover where he spends the night. His disciples are very loyal. But I am afraid for him, Samson. He has so many enemies and they are so strong. I’ve known him for several years, Samson, and I’ve learned a great deal from him. I have come to believe he is our promised Messiah, but I am afraid for him!”

“But look at that young man at the vegetable stall haggling with the vendor. That’s one of Jesus’ disciples, Judas Iscariot. Let’s talk to him.”

When Nicodemus and Samson arrived at the stall, Judas had disappeared. The seller explained that he had not had enough coin to buy the herbs he wanted.

“Today I have some especially fine herbs. Many folks want bitter herbs on their Passover plates and Judas wanted these. He’ll be back soon to buy them.”

“Well,” said Nicodemus, “let me save him the trouble. I’ll buy them. We could even deliver them.”

“No one delivers. Judas insists that he carry everything. But he would be very happy with the gift.”

“Very well. That’s the way it will be. Samson, give the man his money. I will hope to see Jesus another time.”

Guy Johnson

Friday, March 28

You Are Worthy

He also spoke this parable: “A certain man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard, and he came seeking fruit on it and found none. Then he said to the keeper of his vineyard, “Look, for three years I have come seeking fruit on this fig tree and find none. Cut it down; why does it use up ground?” But he answered and said to him, “Sir, let it alone this year also, until I dig around it and fertilize it. And if it bears fruit, well. But if not, after that you can cut it down.” – Luke 13: 6-9

When I accepted my son Devin’s diagnosis of autism, I made up my mind that I would do all I could to help him be successful. I also decided that I would not try to make him into what I hoped or wished he would be. God blessed Devin with amazing Special Education teachers who helped nurture and guide him. Devin was doing so well in elementary school that we (his IEP team) decided that it would be good for him to go to inclusion classes in science and social studies alone and that he was to remain with his ESS teacher for core subjects (ELA and Math). When Devin was in the 4th grade he took the LEAP test and those scores usually come out at the end of the school year, however this time they weren’t released until the next school year in October. Devin was in 5th grade now and everything was going smoothly. After Winter Break we came back to school and I brought some papers to the 5th grade math teacher Miss Patterson.

“Hey D! I got a new student this morning.” She smiled.

“Ok,” I said as I handed her the papers.

“You need to lay your eyes on him!” Taking the papers from my hand. I turn around and scan the room. Then look at her confused.

“Do you see him? He’s wearing a green camouflage coat.” She said pointing to a little boy.

“Devin!” I said in shock. “Why is he here?”

“Per orders of the principal,” she said.

I ran straight to the principal’s office. As I walked in her office she said, “Don’t be mad-just hear me out, please!” I stopped and listened. Mrs. Jadid noticed that Devin scored a Basic in ELA and was just two points from a Basic in Math. She felt that he needed to be in inclusion classes for all subjects because he is capable.

I was like the owner of the vineyard. I didn’t see my son’s full potential. Mrs. Jadid was the keeper of the garden; she knew that by exposing Devin to regular education classes he would blossom and he did.

We are all worthy of a chance to become all that God has intended for us to be.

Heavenly Father sometimes we sell ourselves or others short and put limitations that hinder. Help us to remember that we are all worthy and capable. In Jesus name amen

L. Darlene Dickson

Thursday, March 27

Arboreal Faith

Let no eunuch say, “And, I am a dried-up tree.”  For Yahweh says this:  I will give, in my house and within my walls…a name better than sons and daughters…and everlasting name that shall never be cut off… – Isaiah 56:1-8

Rev Robert Raines is a former UMC pastor who later converted to the United Church of Christ and then famously served as the Director of the Kirkridge Retreat Center in Pennsylvania.  I had the opportunity while as guest of Kirkridge to spend some personal time with him and thus to become a great fan of his writings and sermons.  This borrows heavily from his book A Faithing Oak Meditations from the Mountain.

Raines tells the story of an early summer infestation of gypsy moths eating the leaves and browning the Appalachian Mountains.  Not only the trees and underbrush but the buildings of the retreat center were covered in gypsy caterpillars.  Some one thought it funny to put up a sign:  “This building defended by attack worms.”  But it wasn’t really that funny!

An old, lone oak tree on the retreat grounds, a readily visible and admired backdrop or silhouette for the sunsets and spring flowers of the grassy valley stood leafless, lifeless.  Its gray bare branches shaped by the harsh winds of its lifetime of many winters were naked for all to see and lament.

It may not be just a eunuch that posits the statement “And I, I am a dried-up tree.” Just having had a birthday I’ve been looking back at more productive days and recognizing some loss of energy and hope.  Like many I’ve been fearing for a nation that seems to have lost its mind and who has not been fought of some future calamity for the world these days? Death has visited some and left them without intimacy and nurture.  This season, even without the observance of the holy season of Lent, can leave us cut off from our roots and feeling sterile.  The future can look barren.  We find ourselves feeling like spiritual eunuchs; the fires of faith grown dim.

And I, am I a dried-up tree?

But one morning, just a few weeks later at the end of June, one of the retreatants gathered the others together to look closely at the dried-up tree.  She asked them to run their hands over its limbs and to touch its leafless fingertips.  In amazement they found buds…refoliation had already begun urging forth a second leafing.  The retreatant group beheld a faithing oak.

As people of faith “we would be faithing oaks who, having known the sacrament of defeat, yet stand there withered and weathered, who confound the odds, turn the season on their heads, putting forth seeds of hope in autumn and insisting on Easter in midwinter.  What is this outrageous grace that makes a fool of infesting Death, and raises up a faithing oak?” (Raines)

Scientists have found evidence of marine life deposits millions of years old at the top of Mount Everest, earth’s highest mountain above sea level.  That’s just under 30,000 feet above sea level and The Bay of Bengal is 430 miles away.  Who is it that can move mountains into the sea and back again or the sea to the top of the tallest pinnacle of earth? Who can sit with a dying or dead loved one and believe there will be joy in the morning? Who is it that can seek time after time the restoration of a friendship? Who is it that will reverse the values of a nation spending millions on recreation while reversing budgets for children’s school meals?

We would/must be faithing oaks.  We are to be the embodiment of the aching wisdom of the survivor. We must stake our future in the grace of refoliation, resurrection, restoration, rebirthing…

Rev. Larry Norman

Wednesday, March 26

Temple Grandin

Jesus told this parable: “A man owned a fig tree planted in his vineyard. He came looking for fruit on it and found none. He said to his gardener, ‘Look, I’ve come looking for fruit on this fig tree for the past three years, and I’ve never found any. Cut it down! Why should it continue depleting the soil’s nutrients?’ The gardener responded, ‘Lord, give it one more year, and I will dig around it and give it fertilizer. Maybe it will produce fruit next year; if not, then you can cut it down.’” – Luke 13:6-9

Have you ever heard of Dr. Temple Grandin? I recently watched a movie about her and was fascinated. Now I have seen a children’s book that really does a good job of telling about the life of Temple. (The Girl Who Thought in Pictures: The Story of Dr. Temple Grandin by Julia Finley Mosca, illustrated by Daniel Rieley. Published by The Innovation Press, 2017. There is a read-along on YouTube.)

In the story of the fig tree the vineyard owner could not see the beauty of the tree as a tree. He thought the tree was not good because it produced no figs. The gardener knew that the tree had worth simply because it was a tree.

Many people thought Temple had no worth. She could not speak at three years old. She had temper tantrums. When she got old enough to go to school she threw a book at a child and was asked to leave the school. Some doctors wanted her institutionalized, because she would never be normal. Her Mother refused to listen and moved Temple to a new school where a teacher found a way to unlock what was inside of Temple. Temple also went to stay with an aunt on a farm for a while There she learned to pay attention to the cows. Temple has autism and like the fig tree she needed more time to produce. Today Temple is a professor of animal science at Colorado State University and is a scientist, inventor and autism spokesperson.

Heavenly Father: Thank you for all of the different gifts and talents you have given us. Help us to remember that even though we are all different, we are all worthy of your grace and love. In your name we pray, Amen.

Daphne G. Grady

Tuesday, March 25

Asking ‘Why?’

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, and your ways are not my ways.” – Isaiah 55:8

Across from me in the row of hard plastic chairs sits a small child. She can’t be much more than three, pigtails sticking out from her head, Kool-aid ring around her mouth, and big brown eyes staring up at her dad. He looks exhausted, but fights to keep the frustration out of his voice as she leans over and asks for the 37th time, “Why?” With a tight smile, he replies, “I don’t know, sweetie, but the people who know the plane are in charge.”

Like that little girl, I often find myself wondering why. My life does not look at all like I imagined it would, or like society tells me it should. I am a 43-year-old childless divorcee who lives 1,500 miles from home working a job that always felt like it was only going to be temporary. I have a degenerative autoimmune disease that interferes with my daily life sometimes, and last year I had major surgery. I’ve moved more times that the average person, and have left behind people and places that were dear to me each time. I often find myself leaning on my Heavenly Father and asking, “Why?”

It’s easy to fall into the same trap as the man in Jesus’s parable and feel like that fig tree. I haven’t produced the fruit that others expect-there is no smiling family, no big house or new car, no career accolades or even a clear path of where I’ll be in six months. “Why [do I] even use up the ground?” I might shout, but the words of God spoken through Isaiah provide comfort in not knowing. “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, and your ways are not my ways,” God says. How reassuring, because my thoughts are NOT terribly friendly when I find myself wrapped up in the cries of why? The beauty of this is that God’s thoughts and ways are so much more than mine could ever be.

Yes, those things I labeled myself as earlier are true, but in the end, they don’t matter. God has forced good from every not-so-wonderful situation in my life and brought me to a place even more full than I could have imagined. Why? Because at the end of the day, I am a child of God, and that’s where my value is. Titles and relationships and career may be impressive to the people around us, but they’re meaningless. The one who knows the bigger picture is in charge, and while I may still ask, “Why?” I can rest assured that even if I don’t have an answer, God does.

Hannah Froehlich

Monday, March 24

Prioritize What Fills Your Soul

Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will. – Romans 12:2

I can think of many things in my life that are full to the brim: my calendar, my to-do list, my dirty clothes basket, my mind as I’m trying to fall asleep at night. At this stage in my life, I am never at a loss for places to go or things to do. In our society it is easy to overfill your life with work, parenting and personal things and still feel like you aren’t doing enough. Am I volunteering enough? Should I have my child in music lessons? Am I pulling my weight at work?

But I don’t think that is the “full to the brim” we are going for here. I often find that the more full my schedule, the emptier I feel. My star word this year is “wise” and I have been trying to apply that to how I spend my time. What brings me joy? What sucks up my time? Is there anything I should be doing that I’m not? Based on my answers I have made some changes. For me this has looked like cutting down on social media, checking out more physical books from the library, prioritizing getting to choir practice, and adding stretching and meditation before bed. These small changes have had a monumental impact on how “full” I feel. I’m spending time learning new things, feeding my soul with music, strengthening my body, and sitting quietly with God. The old adage, “You can’t pour from an empty cup” has also proven to be true. Now that I am consciously working to fill my cup, I have more to give: more patience, more love, more focus.

It is so easy to get swept up into what society tells us we should do, or what we have always done. I urge you to take some time to evaluate your day-to-day. What fills you up? What depletes you? What shifts can you make toward the “renewing of your mind”? And finally, don’t beat yourself up if your reality right now tends more toward a full calendar, and less toward a full soul. I’ve only been doing this a month, and who knows where I’ll be in my journey when you are reading this. It’s just one day at a time.

Dear Lord, Please help me cut through the noise of my day-to-day life to find and prioritize what fills my soul. Amen

Molly Means

 

Saturday, March 22

Leah

Jerusalem, early in the week before Passover

Early that morning, Daniel and Leah left the inn where they and their family were staying during the festival week. The streets were already beginning to fill with shopgoers and pilgrims as they made their way across the city toward the Temple.

A large crowd had already gathered at Solomon’s Porch. “They’re waiting to hear that young rabbi from Galilee, I expect,” said Daniel. “We’ll go right past them.”

“But he’s a wonderful teacher,” said Leah, “and he’s a great healer. You heard what old Ezra said about him. I’d like to listen to what he says.”

“I’m going to the men’s court to pray. You need to go to the women’s meeting place.”

“Look! There’s a group of women waiting here. Some of them are pilgrims like us. I will be quite safe with them.”

“I don’t like the idea, but there are plenty of Temple guards around, so I suppose it’s alright. I’ll meet you here after morning prayers.”

As Daniel went into the Temple, Leah joined the waiting women, who greeted her and welcomed her into their group like an old friend. As they waited they chatted about their children, families and even what they would serve at the Passover supper. For all of them, it was their first feast away from home. Each had brought some kind of ingredient to remind them of former family gatherings. Selene from Crete had brought sweet gourds from the family field.

Leah said, “I brought only a tiny thing to add – the radishes from my kitchen garden. They’re very small but very spicy. I slice them very thin and serve them in salted water. My gran says the salt water represents the tears the Israelites shed in Egypt. I didn’t bring many radishes, but I’d be happy to share.”
While the new friends were chatting, another newcomer joined the group. Tall she was and past her first youth. She approached them cautiously and spoke with a low, gentle voice: “Will the Teacher come to speak to us today?” she asked.

“I hope so,” Selene responded. “I’ve been waiting for him since sunup.

“You’ll be glad you did when you hear his words.”

“You’ve heard him then?”

“Yes. We talked together. He spent two days in my village and taught us many things.”

“You talked with him? Impossible! Men don’t speak with women. You’re making that up.”

“No. He was sitting by the well when I came to draw water. He asked for a drink of water and then we talked. He knew more about me than I knew about myself. He opened my eyes to all the errors of my past life. He made me desire to do better. Since that day I have changed the way I live and how I deal with others. His message brought tears to my eyes – tears of regret, tears of repentance, tears of joy at receiving forgiveness. I owe my life to him. I know he is the Messiah. That is why I came here this morning. I know he is in danger and wish to share this danger and his Passover.”

Leah wept. “You’ve touched my heart. More than ever I wish to hear his words.”

“Be quiet, girls,” hissed one woman. “Someone is climbing onto the speaker’s platform. Listen to him!”

Guy Johnson

Friday, March 21

Under God’s Wings

“I would have lost heart, unless I had believed, That I would see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. Wait on the LORD; Be of good courage, And He shall strengthen your heart; Wait I say, on the LORD.” – Psalm 27: 13-14

Waiting on God in difficult situations can be hard. Things may not go as we plan but God’s plans for us are always good. We certainly don’t feel that way when we are going through, yet when we look back after some time has passed we can see God’s hands at work.

I remember when my marriage of fourteen years began to crumble. I prayed and pleaded with God to save my marriage. After many counseling sessions I kept hearing God say, “Let go”. I cried and I cried because I didn’t want my sons to have a broken home. A few days later I began to pray, “Lord Jesus help me to let go.” I felt the heavy weight lifted up off my shoulders then a wave of peace wash over my soul. That was the day I told my husband that if he still wanted to leave he could go and he did. It was not easy but I knew God was carrying me and my sons in His loving arms.

Have you ever heard someone say to a newly separated or divorced person, “Well at least you got the house!” I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried. Two days after my husband left I got a phone call from Wells Fargo and the representative said to me, “Ma’am I don’t know how you’re still in that house. The mortgage hasn’t been paid in almost two years.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. After talking to my husband about it he admitted that he hadn’t been paying the mortgage and hoped I would never find out. The house was in foreclosure and we had to move out by August 11, 2011. By the grace of God the boys and I moved into a townhouse August 6, 2011. Devin and I still live in that townhouse and it is a place of peace and solitude for us. I know it’s hard to see good in hard times but through it all we have a loving Savior who is always with us.

I am reminded of a song I love to sing. “Through it all, through it all, I’ve learned to trust in Jesus. I’ve learned to trust in God. Let me tell you that, through it all, through it all, I’ve learned to depend upon his word.” (Through It All, Andre Crouch)

Heavenly Father, cover us with your mighty wings and take away our fears. Even in our darkest times we will wait on you. In Jesus name amen

L. Darlene Dickson 

Thursday, March 20

In the Wilderness

O Lord, the God who saves me, day and night I cry out before you. May my prayer come before you; turn your ear to my cry. For my soul is full of trouble and my life draws near the grave. – Psalm 88:1-3

Wilderness.

Wandering. Where are we?

Have love and compassion blown away
with the tumult?

In this landscape teeming with hearts
seared by arid indifference,
has the very breeze brought winter to the soul,
weariness to the heart?

Where, oh where is the light?

Come Holy Spirit!

Renew in our hearts the kind of love Jesus mandates.

Blow away the suffocating dust of prejudice,
the choking mold of division.

Breathe on us, we pray, with your holy fire.

Fill us with brotherly love.

Inspire us to welcome in a fresh renewal
of joy and gratitude
as fragrant and healing
as the blooms of springtime.

Gracious and powerful God, we need you to guide us back to the ways of Jesus, to his simple command to love one another. Send the Spirit to move among us, to stoke the fires of healing love. Amen.

Betty Schroeder

Wednesday, March 19

Joy in the Harvest

The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. – Matthew 9:37

At the end of my raised garden beds are tall trellises which support green bean plants. By the early fall last year, the bean plants were overflowing the top of the trellis, growing downward and therefore, very full and thick. I had to use a ladder to reach the top. Daily harvests were necessary. Each afternoon, I’d climb the ladder to start my search for the beans ready to pick.

When looking around the outside of the foliage, I found ripe beans and picked those first. But I knew there were many more to find since I’ve had experience harvesting fruit. For many years, I picked blueberries at a farm and was used to getting INSIDE the large blueberry bushes to find so much hidden fruit.

So that’s exactly what I did with the green beans. I got INSIDE the thick foliage – up close and personal. That was how I found ALL of the hidden beans that I wouldn’t have seen looking from the outside. One day, I thought about how it took my total attention and investment in finding the ripe beans. I literally had to get in and underneath the foliage to see them. It reminded me how our spiritual life takes attention and personal involvement to really participate in the building of God’s Kingdom.

The Bible contains many references to “harvest” with numerous metaphors and lessons to be learned from the harvest concept. The path on which my fall bean harvest thoughts took me was related to spiritual growth and health. It doesn’t usually come from sitting back, looking in from the outside and just expecting it to come to you. Of course, God’s prevenient grace is there whether we know it or not. But there’s more. 1 Corinthians 3:9 says “For we are God’s servants, working together; you are God’s field, God’s building. In verse 8, it says that God gives the growth, but verse 9 says we are participants with God, working together with each other and with God. It is a call to use our gifts in building God’s Kingdom.

So when we get up close and personal, invest with our whole body, mind and spirit – that’s when we have opportunities to really grow spiritually, and importantly, be vessels for God’s use in ministering to other people.

It can get messy. When I ducked out from under the green bean foliage, I had twigs in my hair. It was a strain to put my hand through the small square in the trellis to reach for a bean on the other side. The oily underside of the leaves would stick to my clothing. I wore long sleeves so my arms wouldn’t itch. I had to make sure my ladder was steady so I wouldn’t fall. In other words, I had to be equipped for the harvest. In spiritual terms, God equips us through our community fellowship, through prayer and study, and through faith to trust in Him.

As Matthew says, the harvest is great. But it doesn’t get fully accomplished without our participation with God. God calls us and He equips us. But we must say YES to God. Get involved, be fully invested. Get inside, get messy. Find Joy in the harvest!

God, help us hear your call to the places and people where our gifts may be used for building Your Kingdom on earth. Give us courage to say yes and fully invest our mind, body and spirit in our ministry with You. Amen.

Kathy King