Learning to be Still

A month into the quarantine, the hard days are fewer and further between. I'm one who finds ways to keep busy most days, so that I don't fall into the depths of despair on the hard days. In this season of solitude, of downtime, of quiet, though, I am learning to be still. I am learning to be present to the thoughts and feelings of the moment, without letting them carry me away downstream. Today I sat outside with my thoughts, and was blessed, not with sudden happiness or the weight lifted, but with the company of birds and sunshine on my face. It is not that we don't walk through hard things; it is that we don't walk through them alone. And so I sat, reminded that hard is not the same as bad. There ARE bad things, but not all hard things are bad. And so, I tried to make something beautiful with what I have to offer today. The video above is the result. I wish you grace and peace as you learn to be present, and still. 

The mystery of Christ... in cookies (Maundy Thursday)

Can the mystery of Christ show up in cookies?

He certainly showed up in their delivery on this Maundy Thursday, just as we were partaking of the elements during the online service that has become "normal" in this time of Covid 19.

When we celebrated communion on Sunday, I had saved the very last of the grape juice from our grapes, thinking it would be fitting to have the last bit for a seder on Thursday, here in our home. But the week got away from me and I did not muster the energy to put together a seder; instead we had alfredo and bread, a warm and cozy meal shared together as a family. Had I realized that we would have communion during the service (which I should have, given that it is Maundy Thursday), I would have saved a bit of the sourdough bread we had with dinner. But I didn't, so Eliana quick grabbed a slice of sandwich bread from the pantry. I silently lamented the insufficiency of a slice of purchased bread to accompany the very last of our grape juice for communion. One seemed fitting for the altar; the other did not.

I served the elements to Eliana, and before she could return the blessing, the Dunhams showed up on my doorstep with Easter cookies, the hands and feet of Christ, in the flesh, to bless me with His presence and love in my isolation. Oh, what joy to be remembered!

Immediately behind the Dunhams, Maggie rode up on her bike to visit across the yard with Eliana. And God's grace dawned on me in a new and profound way:

It is not in the sufficiency of the bread that He comforts us, but with His body, His communion, His fellowship, His love - so often shown not in mysterious ways, but in the mundane. And yet, His presence makes all things sacred, even cookies with pastel M&Ms. A bite of cookie, a sip of juice, and I am blessed by the miracle of His provision for me, once again.