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Fred Rogers: There’s no normal life that is free from pain.
Lloyd Vogel: How do you deal with it?
Fred Rogers:  … play the lowest keys on a piano all at the same time.
Lloyd Vogel: Do you ever talk to anyone about the burden you carry?
Fred Rogers: Bong! [imitates hitting the piano keys again]

That is my one of my favorite scenes in the movie A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood. It is a reminder that there are ways to deal with pain and burden without hurting someone else or yourself … we just need to find what works best for each of us.

This movie tells of the research done by author Tom Junod for an article in Esquire magazine, which resulted in research and redemption in the author himself. Watching such a movie is a mood reset for me.

What do we do … how do we handle the deepest pains in our lives? Do we drain a bottle of alcohol? dive into the cupboards for carbs? pull a Mt. St. Helens on those around us? go for a run? kneel down low and lift our burdens high? or play the lowest keys of a piano all at once?

It is good to ask ourselves this question, searching for what our most natural response to pain, to burden, anxiety. Pain and burdens are real and we have to find ways to deal with the real.

I have had times when I felt like a pressure cooker, ready to explode in tears or anger or a disquiet that made me vibrate all over. I am, most naturally, one to seek our the carbs … as if a tummy full of yeast and sugar is gonna lighten my mood (or my weight).

When I am thinking clearly but the weight on my shoulders heavy, I sit down in the dark and turn on a story that explodes with positivity, redemption, light … it’s like playing the lowest keys on a piano all at the same time.

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Carlie Mackesy

It arrived!

I opened the door to see that familiar brown cardboard box, wrapped in black tape, at my doorstep.

Just two days earlier I had ordered a little gift … just for me. A simple hardcover book, filled with few words, simple sketches, yet the images and words had been boosting my mood all summer long on the Instagram account of the author.

The book title, sounding more like a children’s picture book … The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse, is like taking a meandering walk with a young child, still inquisitive about absolutely everything, still unguarded, willing to ask the tough questions … willing to share their deepest thoughts.

It is pure delight!

I think what drew my attention to the work of this man was that it’s message is simple, vulnerable, positive … real.

I think too that it was like a mirage in the desert … for this summer, this year has been dark, depressing filled with hate.

It is too easy to sit on the dung pile too long.

Eventually, we all need a ray of sunshine, a light at the end of the tunnel … a little positivity to shine a light in the news of a dark world.

Through the beautiful simplicity of real and vulnerable words, my heart was lightened, hope restored.

“My dear, In the midst of hate, I found there was, within me, an invincible love. In the midst of tears, I found there was, within me, an invincible smile. In the midst of chaos, I found there was, within me, an invincible calm. I realized, through it all, that…In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer. And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger – something better, pushing right back. Truly yours, Albert Camus”

“They dare to be vulnerable,
which makes them closer.”

Charlie Mackesy

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Don’t fight fire with fire

Live by the sword, die by the sword

or, my personal favorite,

Don’t feed the monster

These idioms are all variations of one of the easiest Proverbs (for me) to say, but doing it, living it’s wisdom is so … unnatural.

A gentle answer turns away rage,
but a harsh word stirs up anger.
Proverbs 15:1

Why is it so hard to just be quiet? To speak gently?

Why is it so easy to respond quickly and harshly?

Our tongue, it’s sharp! Sharp like a sword!

Proverbs 12:18 reminds us, “there is one whose rash words are like sword thrusts, but the tongue of the wise brings healing.”

Man, when you look at the power we have through our words as either wounding or healing … I kinda shake in my boots, because I don’t want to wound … I just … forget to pause before speaking, or I retaliate when another’s words have hurt me, or … I just don’t take my words captive and so they allow me to implicate myself.

There is such responsibility in our words!

Matthew 12:36-37 tells us, ” … on the day of judgment people will give account for every careless word they speak. For by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned.”

Though I have so not mastered this (ask my family, they will confirm the practise I still need to apply), I think it’s all about pausing before we speak. For, even when daggers are thrown our way, our responsibility is for how we respond, what we say … not what is said to us.

Respond gently … motto of the day (week, month … life).

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Do you bear the burdens of others? Do you hear the stories, the struggles and the heartaches of others and wear them like a heavy coat? When the conversation ends, do you walk to your car carrying the substance of the conversation with a friend or family member, like carrying the weight of a massive suitcase? Does your mind whisper groans to heaven … interceding for others? Do you awaken the next day exhausted, for wrestling with thoughts overburdened by another’s … burden?

Are you a burden-bearer?

That has been my week … or so. My heart so full of the stories of others that focus on my daily tasks resembles that of the animation of the speed of the Road Runner escaping Wile E. Coyote.

To process my heavy heart for one individual, I began to write them a letter. Then I realized that it could be written to all of them, for the hopes and prayers, the groans and the whispers are so similar, because when downcast hope is what we need most.

So, this is my burden bearer perspective, for those whose story is hard, from someone who is sharing your load.

I hope you know that I listened, to every single word, every pause, every tremor in your voice. I heard it all, felt it all. My heart has been living outside of my chest, beating in time to yours. When we parted I took your story home with me, carried it while I drove, while I cleaned my house, on my walk that evening, then I took it to bed … the only time I let it go was when I put it in the arms of Jesus … over, and over and over again. I want to do something to fix your story … to erase, re-write, to intervene … but I, in my human state can’t do that, I can only help you carry it … carry it to Him.

Here is what I know about Him …

He knows. He knows what is going on in your life. He knows the loss, the loneliness, the feeling of being lost. He knows your story and he knows how you got to this chapter … the mistakes made, the injuries inflicted, the dark valley you are walking through. He also knows how this story can end, how it will end.

He’s not going anywhere. He will never leave you (even though he will never force you to love him back). He is right beside you, ensuring that you are never alone. Yes, you might feel alone at times (right now), but he’s with you, closer than a a sister or brother.

He has a purpose for your life. It begins with each breath inhaled, exhaled … repeat. Some days just getting yourself out of bed is so hard, just breath through it. Some days it can seem that you are making one step forward, then two back … Put one foot in front of the other, inhale … exhale … repeat.

He loves. That is what he is, the personification of love … limitless, unconditional, always within reach. He loves you. Just as you are, in the middle of your story, as you sit on your dung heap … he loves you.

St. Augustine has said of the Psalms, “if the psalm prays, you pray; if it laments, you lament; if it exults, you rejoice; if it hopes, you hope; if it fears, you fear. Everything written here is a mirror for us.”

Weary, lonely, burdened one, with so much load to carry … know that you are not carrying it all alone. There are those who love you and who are bearing your burden with you and there is a God, the creator of heaven and earth and everything in them, who wants you to know how very loved you are … right this moment.

inhale. exhale. repeat.

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One of the things that drew me to the church we now call home is the time in the service when a person emerges before the congregation and offer up the prayers of the people.

Prayers are offered for our immediate church family as well as the church worldwide, the community in which we live as well as the global community. For ministries in our church, the people who perform the ministries as well as those who benefit from them. Thanks for who God is, for the life we have been given, for the opportunities to be his hands and feet are spoken. Acknowledgement of our need of him, his wisdom, his eyes, his grace.

I am so thankful for the importance placed on corporate prayer that covers people, places and happenings both near and far.

The other day I felt like I had lived a day of prayers of the people.

There was beauty and appreciation for the life I have been so fortunate to live. The people who have added to my life, the activities, the work, the world in which I live.

Then there were the joys of others, prayers answered in the most spectacular of ways. Events that enfolded in a such a way that one could not help but acknowledge that God had his hand in the the details.

There were tears too, for hurts and struggles and disappointments in the lives of others. People who were experiencing fear, loneliness, heartache … pain. People who I could only help by laying their burdens at the feet of the only wise God.

Lord, hear my prayer …

These words are often prayed in corporate prayer and I have begun to use them as I pray.

We see these words at the start of Psalm 143, one of the penitential psalms.

It is not a demand, but a question, a request.

These four words remind us that it is we who are the ones asking to be heard, asking for help, for mercy.

The Matthew Henry Commentary, for this verse says,

“We have no righteousness of our own to plead, therefore must plead God’s righteousness, and the word of promise which he has freely given us, and caused us to hope in.”

We are never enough on our own, but through the blood of Jesus we can speak to the God of the universe, making our supplications to Him. It is an act that is an honor and a responsibility.

When we lift up our prayers to God nothing is news to him, for he is all knowing. Yet we lift them up as an offering, as an act of complete trust … trust that he can and will oversee the cries of our heart, trust in the process that he chooses.

Lord, hear our prayer.

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Apparently, when one is applying to the Graduate School of Business at Stanford University, not only does one need to provide proof of academic success, references and an application fee, but also a couple of essays.

One of those essays is to answer the question, why Stanford? That is a pretty predictable essay subject, but the second is a bit more unique …

what matters most to you, and why?

Their website says they want applicants to “write from the heart”.

It got me to thinking, what does matter most … to me?

It would be easy to speak of my life because of my acceptance of God’s love in my life, for where would I be otherwise?

I could speak of my (just about) thirty one year marriage to my husband, his love and constant support of me and my crazy ideas.

My three adult kids … my greatest creations.

The love and continuity of my parents.

Or the entertainment value provided by my brothers.

My job is satisfying and challenging.

Friends are the sugar and spice of daily life.

But then there are the flowers that provide beauty, the sunrises that give hope of a new day, the sound of the waves crashing at the shore, the relaxation and comfort found in the wet nose of an animal companion, the joy of a good story (in written or video form), clean sheets, the sound of a soft summer rain, warmth of the sun on your skin, the smell of the first coffee of the day …

It is almost more satisfying to write the list that to come to a conclusion. To write such a list is to realize that it has no end … for to write what matters most reminds us that our lives are worth living, that we love and are thankful for so many gracious gifts in our lives.

Go ahead, try it … begin to consider what matters most.

I think you will see that we have been given much to be thankful for in our life … from the giver of good gifts.

“Every good and perfect gift is from above,
coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights,
who does not change like shifting shadows.”

James 1:17

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The sun shone, blue skies for miles, light breeze in the air … a smile crept across my face … contentment … not just contentment, for there was something else in the air.

Every year I feel it creep into my being. In the midst of the dog days of summer, in the midst of the season of rest and recreation, in the midst of everyday life slowing down, like a comma in a sentence …

the calendar turns to August
and I hold my breath

Like the grim reaper holding a sign declaring that “the end is nigh” the calendar reminds me that summer’s end is just around the corner.

Rest and frivolity, summer’s sun and warmth, watching the flowers grow and change each day, sunsets of bended and scattered light, coffee dates filled with laughter and evenings without a care for the morning alarm. These will largely come to their seasonal end, replaced with work and schedules and structure.

In recent years this turn of calendar page reminds me of change of season in broader sense. It reminds me that my life, in it’s natural ebb and flow, is migrating from summer to autumn. Perhaps, if I were honest with myself, I would acknowledge that it has already moved into that third season. That there is but one season left … not yet there, but I can see it …

and I hold my breath

But, for today I will stop and smell those summer roses, declaring boldly carpe diem, as I seize this day … after all, YOLO (you only live once).

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Years ago I read a story that has stayed with me ever since, re-surfacing whenever my subconscious decides that I need to be reminded of what it has to teach me … again.

It is the story of a man with two children on a train. On the voyage, the man sat in his seat, staring out the window, stone silent. His children, of primary school ages, were loud, disruptive to all around. Many people whispering, pointing, throwing stares and attitude. They were disgusted with the irresponsibility of this father. One woman, in particular, was quite put out by this man’s lack of care for his children and the effect their bad behavior was having on all around. She was heard by all (seemingly except for the father) making statements of disgust.

When the train reached it’s destination, all disembarked.

The woman, who had been particularly bothered by the children’s behaviors and the father’s lack of response to them, was greeted by her sister. Her sister was standing beside an older couple, who excused themselves when they saw who they were picking up.

The sister explained they were picking up their son-in-law and his two children. Their daughter had recently died and they were taking in the children for a time, while their father, distraught over his wife’s death, was struggling to care for them.

We do not always see the reality of circumstances from the place we are currently standing.

I have certainly been that woman, bothered by what I perceived to be lack of responsibility or bad behavior. I have rolled my eyes, made judgements, shook my head, made comments to others. In short, I have responded under the guidance of what I perceive.

But, I have also been distraught, heartbroken, felt that the ground beneath me has given away. In those times, no matter the mask I might have placed over my face, I have probably been irresponsible, ill behaved.

This is a lesson that I am thankful resurfaces in my mind, for it reminds me of my limited perspective, my inability to see the whole picture, my lack of scope.

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I have come to be a believer in the words of the most influential artistic voices in Britain during the Victorian period, William Morris :

“Have nothing
in your house
that you do not know
to be useful,
or believe
to be beautiful.”

With each passing year, the more I desire, no … need the presence of beautiful things things around me. Beauty reduces my stress, puts a smile on my face, reminds me that there is good in the world, inspires my creativity and whispers to me “I was thinking of you when I dreamed up these lilies.”

Just a couple of weeks ago I decided to cut a few lilies from my small garden, to place in a vase in my house. Before they even began to open their scent filled the room. Each day has been exciting to watch them slowly go from no hint of the color to full and opened beauty.

“Consider how the lilies grow. They do not labor or spin.
Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor
was dressed like one of these.” Luke 12:27

As I embrace my inner lover of beauty I find that there is more out there. The sunrise, or sunset. The seasonal rotations of plant and flower growth. The scent of those vintage roses. The reflection on a pond or lake. Birds singing out the dawn chorus. The coastal and sky horizon. The grandeur of the mountains. The sound of waves crashing on the beach. Fresh snow falling (you knew it was coming).

The more beauty we see … the more beauty we see.

“Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.” Philippians 4:8

whatever is lovely …

It’s an awaking of awareness of beauty. In a sense it is a change of thinking.

” … as a person thinks, so is he”

We are encouraged in Philippians that we are to direct our thoughts, our focus on the ‘good’ things … what is true, noble, pure, admirable, excellent, praiseworthy … lovely.

The practises of living prescribed in the Bible are ones that are truly best practise for us as God’s creation. In this scripture we are encouraged to focus on the true, the positives, the good, the lovely …

if we are practise life in this way, perhaps we will experience less stress, anxiety, weariness, sorrow and hatred.

“The longer I live the more beautiful life becomes. If you foolishly ignore beauty, you will soon find yourself without it. Your life will be impoverished. But if you invest in beauty, it will remain with you all the days of your life.” Frank Lloyd Wright

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It can seem that our world is a dire place, with so many evil acts, selfishness and hatred. It can seem hopeless … we can feel hopeless.

For Christ-followers, hope is the gift that we have accepted, that we are purposed to share, in acts and attitudes of love.

1967 might have felt similarly hopeless. It was during the time of the Vietnam War, Civil Rights Movement, Detroit riots, China tested it’s first hydrogen bomb, the Six-Day war (between Israel and neighboring Arab countries).

It was at this time that song writers Bob Thiele and George David Weiss wrote a song, that would be sung by Louis Armstrong … What a Wonderful World … in the midst of such a hopeless time in history.

Thiele stated, “We wanted this immortal musician and performer to say, as only he could, the world really is great: full of the love and sharing (that) people make possible for themselves and each other every day.”

Though this song was not written or sung as a song of praise, or from a Christian perspective, I find myself thinking of the words of writer and theologian, Fredrick Buechner:

“The place where God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.”

As a Christ-follower, I have been called to my family, my community around me physically, as well as this virtual one. My deep gladness is simple, it comes from the gift of love that God has offered and I have accepted … this is where I meet ‘my world’, who is hungry, ravenous for the life-giving hope of the love of Christ.

But I cannot meet my world’s hunger, I cannot offer nourishment from a place of hopelessness, from a place of fear. I need to first be fed the good fruits, be encouraged in hope which will allow the love to grow … hopefully spilling over to the world around me.

Garbage in = garbage out

Good people, we do life in the midst of such sorrow, for so many reasons these days … but we cannot allow it to dim the light that is in us.

“Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that.” MLK Jr.

LR Knost, author, feminist, social justice activist, said:

“Do not be dismayed by the brokenness of the world. All things break. And all things can be mended. Not with time, as they say, but with intention. So go. Love intentionally, extravagantly, unconditionally. The broken world waits in darkness for the light that is you.”

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