to the dance of life
"Merciful God, who sent your messengers the prophets to preach repentance and prepare the way for our salvation: Give us grace to heed their warnings and forsake our sins, that we may greet with joy the coming of Jesus Christ our Redeemer; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen."
- from The Book of Common Prayer,
The niece (Holli) of a family friend (Joy) was critically injured in an accident last week in India. Our friend, Joy, and her sister (the mother) were able to get emergency visas and flew to meet her. They were horrified by the the conditions of the hospital: Holli’s mother had to run around town (in a foreign land, keep in mind) to find any prescriptions or equipment the doctors needed for her child. Rats scamper between the hospital beds. Holli has a head injury, and the hospital does not have the equipment or training to deal with it.
Which means they’re doing nothing.
Joy and her sister are trying to get Holli transferred to the States, an expensive and dangerous endeavor but necessary if there is any hope of saving her life. It will take $160,000 to bring her home in a special ICU plane with a doctor and nurse.
Please pray for Holli and her family. Also, you can find out more information about donating to help Holli get home here.
Update: Holli may be able to be moved to a better facility in Chennai. If this is the case, it looks like she may be in India for a while, and her mother will stay with her.
Update 2: Holli survived the four-hour transfer via ambulance to a hospital, Apollo, in
Chennai. Apollo has all of the modern treatment
capablities; Americans travel to this hospital for
treatment. A
high-ranking officer in the Indian Army arranged this. He offered his services to get her
transferred and has even offered monetary help. Also, a friend of ours has contacted a Dallas Seminary professor
(Indian) well known in India. His brother, Rajiv, is in Chennai with his wife, who is at that same hospital. Rajiv is staying
in the home of the Indian Medical Coordinator for Americans. Joy’s cell
phone number has been sent to Rajiv. Thank you all for your prayers! Please continue to pray for Holli and her family.
You can continue to follow Holli’s progress on the blog set up for this purpose.
"God is waiting. Creation is waiting. Humankind is waiting. We are waiting for redemption, for everything to be put back in its proper place in relation to God. We see signs and shadows, aches and groans of what’s to come, knowing that what we wait for is not here yet."
- from The Sacred Echo by Margaret Feinberg
"Stir up your power, O Lord, and with great might come among us; and, because we are sorely hindered by our sins, let your bountiful grace and mercy speedily help and deliver us; through Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom, with you and the Holy Spirit, be honor and glory, now and for ever. Amen."
- Third Sunday Advent Prayer from The Book of Common Prayers
The Sacred Echo by Margaret Feinberg is a simple book, really, about a simple concept–prayer. But it’s not a treatise on prayer. It’s one woman’s encounter with prayer and encounters through prayer.
It’s about cultivating a relationship. It’s about respite in God.
Filled with personal stories, The Sacred Echo talks about our growing sensitivity to God and how He’s working through repetition in prayer–both our repetition and His. It’s about the balance of talking and listening in prayer. Feinberg ties the question of waiting for answers to prayer to the bigger picture of prayer. "God is waiting," she says. "Creation is waiting. Humankind is waiting" (p. 59). Then she turns the question around. It’s not just about us asking God, "How long?" It’s about God asking us, "How long?"
Feinberg also addresses issues such as learning to read and reread Scripture with a sensitivity to how God uses it in our lives and God’s calling to follow Him.
I found this book to be refreshing, beautiful, and challenging. I found my unbelief sneaking out at crazy stories–and conviction quickly following. We may not understand, but we go to God, and we bring others to God. Sometimes God does miraculous things. Sometimes we can’t see the miraculous. Always, we trust.
The one thing I found wanting in this book was the presence of the Body of Christ–of community–in God’s sacred echos. Feinberg brought up the idea of serving others, but in her emphasis of a personal communion with God, she left out a communal communion. Because of this, at times the book felt almost individualistic.
Despite that, this book will become one of the books I will regularly recommend to new believers and ancient believers alike as we seek to know and relate with God.
This is a prayer from the Transforming Culture symposium. On Monday, I’ll continue my interactions with it, namely with our allies in the artistic journey. In the meantime, let this prayer bathe you in the clear, baptismal waters, and get down with your creative self. (Did I really just say that?)
Lord, remember your artists.
Have mercy upon them and remember with
compassion all those that reflect the good, the ill, the strengths and
the weaknesses of the human spirit.
Remember those who raise their voices in unending song,
those who pour their souls into music loud and soft.
Remember those who put pigment to surface,
carve wood and stone and marble,
who work base metals into beauty,
those building upwards from the earth toward heaven.
Remember those who put thought to paper by computer and by pen;
the poets who delve,
the playwrights who analyze and proclaim,
the dreamers-up of narrative,
all those who work with the light and shadows of film.
Remember the actors moved by Spirit and dancers moving through space.
Remember all these artists whom you have placed among us, for are they not, O Lord, the fellows of your inspiration?
Do they not, Lord God, bring to your people great proof of your divinity and our part in it?
Remember your artists and show them mercy and compassion that they may do the same and so uplift all your people.
That they may cry forth your praises, as we do here.
Amen! Amen! Amen!
Matthew 11 has always been a difficult passage for me. John the
Baptist, a faithful preacher for the Lord, is in jail for his work for
Christ. In his cell, he begins to wonder, perhaps even have a shade of
doubt. He sends his disciples to ask Jesus, "You are Christ, right? I
mean, this isn’t for nothing?"
Stop. This isn’t the difficult
part. In fact, this part comforts me. Even John the Baptist had his
doubts. Maybe we should call them semi-doubts. He’s not renouncing
Christ. He’s not taking back his message. But he needs some reassurance.
Jesus
answers his question. "Yes, John. You can trust me. You will be blessed
because of me." Which is a serious thing because imagine facing God and
being wrong about a thing like that.
But then here’s the
disturbing part. Jesus waits until John’s disciples leave before
bragging about him. Jesus tells the people around him, "You see this
John? He’s one of the greats! Heck, his mom should be downright proud.
She raised the best around! He fulfills prophecy. Pretty cool, huh?"
Why did Jesus wait for John’s disciples to leave before saying this? Who more than John needs a pick-me-up right about now?
Jesus
answered the question about who Jesus is–the Christ. But no more. No
pats on the back. At least, not right then. Hold fast, John, Jesus
said, but then he reserved his greatest words for after the time when
John would hear them.
WHY!?
You see, I’m an affirmation
person. I need–no, I should say desire–those words of affirmation.
"Good job" goes a long way in my world. It’s much easier to serve when
you hear that. I hate cleaning house, but if my husband notices the
spic and span, it’s worth it.
SO WHY COULDN’T CHRIST GIVE JOHN THIS ONE THING?
Which brings me to my hardest prayer.
Lord, make me insignificant.
Did I just pray that? Yikes!
Just
the facts: the pride in my life, well it’s big and dark and ugly.
Sometimes I think it looks beautiful. I like to fool myself. Sometimes
I think it’s light, that it carries me like Rudolph carries Santa.
But that’s not true. It’s gnarly and cumbersome and heavy.
And it has to be dealt with.
So, Lord, make me insignificant.
I
hate praying this prayer. It scares me. I always hoped I’d be
significant. I grew up with Bach and Mozart and Beethoven, and I hoped
I’d be one of them.
Sidebar: this past year, I turned thirty. It
wasn’t pretty. From the day I turned twenty-nine, I dreaded the next
birthday. Something loomed about it: at that day, I would officially be
insignificant. What could I point to in my life and say, "I did that!"?
Turns out, I’m not great. But we’ve covered this before. And then again.
Today
is January first, and our heads turn to New Year’s Resolutions (or
Revolutions, as they say in the Blue Lagoon). This isn’t exactly a
resolution. How does one resolve to be insignificant? It doesn’t mean
to stop everything I’m doing. At least, I don’t feel like God’s telling
me to stop what I’m doing. So I’m starting with a prayer. It sounds
simple. "I pray I’ll be insignificant." But it’s the most difficult
prayer I could pray.
I tell tales--tall ones, short ones, fat ones, skinny ones. Some call it compulsive lying. I call it writing.
