Showing posts with label others. Show all posts
Showing posts with label others. Show all posts

Friday, August 13, 2021

"above all things..."

 


"somebody with a hurt that I could have helped,
somebody with a hand that I could have held,
when I just can't see past myself,
Lord, help me be...
"a little more like mercy, a little more like grace
a little more like kindness, goodness, love, and faith
a little more like patience, a little more like peace
a little more like Jesus, 
"a little less like me..."
The above lyrics are from Zach Williams' song, "Less Like Me," and speak to the kind of hope I see as a natural part of the camp experience each summer.  Let me explain.
From January first, throughout the summer, and into the cooler days of autumn, I pray for camp(s).  Part of that prayer is looking for relevant spiritual insights and precedent-setting cases of divine law in the weekly Bible lessons that include passages from Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures by Mary Baker Eddy.
This morning's study of scripture included two prayers that were like bookends, holding the camp experience in the middle between them.  
The first is a passage from I Chronicles that has often been referred to as "the Prayer of Jabez:"
"And Jabez called on the God of Israel, saying, "Oh that Thou wouldest bless me indeed, and enlarge my border, and that thine hand might be with me, and that Thou wouldest keep me from evil, that it may not grieve me." 
This prayer has been lauded in song, sermon, and in a popular book by that title.  It's a prayer that has always puzzled me in its popularity.  Of course I can seen the attraction to a prayer that would bring fulfillment to the promises that Jabez is asking for.   
The other prayer is from III John in the New Testament: 
"Beloved, I wish above all things that thou mayest prosper and be in health."
This prayer, although familiar, has never reached the level of spiritual pop culture recognition that the "Prayer of Jabez" reached in the early days of the 21st century with the publication of its namesake book.
Seeing these two prayers together in this week's lesson, was eye opening for me.  And what I see at camp sits right in the middle of those two prayers.  
As campers our children arrive at camp as guests to be, as a favorite hymn promises, "cared for, watched over, beloved, and protected," -- by staff, counselors, nurses, practitioners, and camp/bunkhouse moms/parents. Their context is one of being the recipient of blessings. 
But exposure to the very nature of camp, starts to nurtures the seed of Christ-like selflessness in them.  They watch a counselor -- tired from a full day of mountaineering or sailing -- rise in the middle of the night to pray with a homesick camper.  The experience the power of selfless service, generosity of heart, extraordinary patience, and seamless grace.  
And their lives begin to take on the purity of John's prayer for others.  Their greatest desire becomes," I can't wait to be on staff."  I know with our daughters, even though they had the opportunity of staying campers for two more years - and being served.  They couldn't wait to be on staff - and serve.  
What happens in their lives -- and in Scripture -- between those two spiritual bookends?  For me, it is the presence of Jesus - and his followers today. It is his Christly example of unselfed love that shifts our prayers from "enlarge my borders," to enlarge my heart.  From bless me, to one of "that thou may prosper and be in health."   
It astounds me that of all the things that John could have wanted for himself, those closest to him, the church he has grown, the community he was in fellowship with -- he would pray for the health and prosperity of one of Paul's followers -- not even his own "tribe," -- as what he wished for above all things.
I will leave this here -- but not before giving thanks for every counselor, staff member, director, facilities technician, and camp mom/bunkhouse parent I witnessed living John's prayer every day this summer. 
thank you. 
offered with Love, 
Cate

Friday, October 16, 2009

"In your eyes, I am complete..."

"...Without a noise,
without my pride
I reach out from the inside...

...In your eyes
The light. the heat
In your eyes
I am complete,
In your eyes
The resolution of all
the fruitless searches..."

- Peter Gabriel

One of the most wonderful moments in my own journey towards a more authentic humility, and real confidence in Christ, came while driving home from church one early Spring day.  I'd  been spending most of my time quite alone that week.  My husband was on assignment in another city, and my children were on a trip with their dad and stepmom.  It was me and Mollie, our little Golden Retriever, and she wasn't talking much.  I was looking at myself and my world, through the silent lens of living, moving, and breathing, as Peter Gabriel suggests, "In Your Eye".

I'd made a commitment, earlier that year, to spend as much time in silence as was humanly possible.  In order to strengthen my practice of "deep listening" I was carving out spaces in my day for silence...blocks of time where I would open my heart to hearing only the voice of my divine parent.  No television or music at home, not even our lovely classical station or my beloved NPR (National Public Radio) in the car...and by the way, it was this giving up of "All Things Considered", "The Diane Rehm Show", "Talk of the Nation" with Neal Conan, "Fresh Air", and "Morning Edition" that gave me the shakes.  But I'd made a commitment and there was no going back during that 100 days.  I'd decided that cold turkey was the only way to go, and soon wished I'd found an AA-like sponsor to help me through the first few road trips.

On this particular Sunday I was missing the distraction of listening to someone else's talking, an inspired guest on "Speaking of Faith", or the witty brothers, Tom and Ray, on "CarTalk" to fill the silence, and to save me from my own thoughts.  They'd be funny. Whereas, my thoughts were dark, and I felt small and insignificant.

I decided to stay the course, "step away from the radio", and instead, launch into a dialogue with God. I began by asking the question, "What is it that most often leaves me feeling this way...scared and small?"  I just sat with that question until the answer became perfectly clear.  And I knew the answer was accurate, because I accepted it without another thought.  It said, "When I compare myself to others."  Hmmm.  I didn't question it for a second.  I knew it was true. 

I'd spent most of my life alternately being obsessed with, or haunted by, comparing myself with others.  Comparing my body, parenting skills, possessions, work, inspiration...to those of the people around me.  How did I measure up? Was I better than...or did I fall short of?  But the person I could most often be found comparing myself to was, well...myself.  My past self.  My imagined self.  My self that made mistakes, my self that had, in the past, reached beyond her goals, or wondered if she would ever really be inspired (or inspiring) quite the way she'd always hoped.  The self that was never good enough...the self that perceived she was separated from God, good. 

"But how do I stop?" I wondered from behind the steering wheel, in the drumming silence of a rainy Sunday afternoon.  Then I remembered I was supposed to be listening to God, not my own musings.  So I asked, "Father, why do I compare myself to others?"  God's response was quick and as clear and penetrating as glass slicing through the years of guilt, self-doubt, and regret.

"What others?" my Father's voice asked.

I got it.  In the sacred sanctuary of our relationship, there was no one else "in the room"...in God's heart...but me.

But could this really be possible?  Then I thought about my relationship with my own daughters.  I do not compare my love for Emma with my love for Clara.  I never compare one's gifts with the other's.  Each is completely wonderful, completely beautiful, completely complete in my heart.  There is no measure of love...a certain portion with one, and a different amount with the other...only All-for-each.   I fully love them, each of my children, completely, but individually...without comparison. It made me laugh to think of all the times I have heard the phrase "compared favorably"...what an oxymoron!!

I can't tell you how many times this divine question, "What others?" has stopped me in my mental tracks when the comparison snake starts to slither and hiss its sneaky self around my heart. 

"What others?"

In my relationship with my Father-Mother God, there is no one else in the room.  I have His/Her entire attention and love.  But then, so do you...

Kate
Kate Robertson, CS

[photo credit:  Carol Nicoli-Matthews on an Italian beach as taken by, and through the eyes of her mother, my friend, Laura Matthews 2009]