"a hush of expectation..."

"It's the dawn,
it's the morning,
it's the end of the night,
and the hearts of men
are stirring
to know they're not alone;

there's a hush of expectation,
and a quiet in the air,
and the breath of God is moving
in the fervent breath of prayer..."

Finding a new song by Sara Groves is like turning the corner and seeing the face of a friend. Her  "To the Dawn,"  caught me that way this morning.

Every morning I show up at the feet of Christ in prayer -- listening, listening, listening for our Father's message of purpose, comfort, direction to guide my day.

But I have to admit, I also show up with a sense of hope. Hope for a moment's burst of light. To hear a voice not my own in the silence. To feel the wash of grace. To read a Scripture, and have it come alive with fresh meaning.

When this happens -- whatever time of day it is -- it is morning again. The dawn is breaking and I am fully awake in a new way.

This happened yesterday with such sweet suddenness and clarity that it took my breath away. A familiar Scripture opened up like a time-lapse video of a blossoming rose. One moment it was "oh yes..." -- the next it was, "oh, yes!"

Here is the Scripture from Phillipians:

"My God shall supply
all your need..."

Bur this is how it rose from the page:

"My God shall supply
all your need..."

Ah, the selfless compassion of it all. The inclusiveness of this prayer - so full of brotherhood and care. The God that I love and worship, is supplying all your need. There is no personal quid pro quo with God. We do not simply pray for our own needs to be met. Nor are our prayers ever completely satisfied by the fullness of our own cupboards, or the "demonstration" of our own health and harmony.

There is no personal evidence of God's love. My God shall supply all your need.  This is a promise.  This is the heart of Christianity -- whether that Christianity is being practiced by Muslim, Jew, Buddhist, agnostic, philosopher or child. This is the gift of agape love. My God shall supply all your need, according to His riches... Not according to prayerful endeavors. Not according to our unique approach to Him -- a rosary, prayer beads, a call from a minaret, or saffron robes.

This is the prayer of a child who loves his/her parent and sees that parent as universally generous. No favoritism. None of us are "only children."  

When my sister and I were little girls, and our family's coffers were less than modest, my love for her was greater than my own hunger. My parents would feed her. They would clothe her. They would make sure she was safe. That was the promise I clung to.

It is the prayer I am filled with today. "My God shall supply all your need." Someone once said to me, "nobody wins, until everybody wins." Isn't this the most beautiful sense of spiritual family. We are not alone.

Have a blessed day -- brother, sister...

offered with Love,

Cate 

"You are not alone, I am here with you..."

"Someone whispers
in my ear and says,

you are not alone,
I am here with you...”

Jason Chen's cover of Michael Jackson's,  "You Are Not Alone"  is such a gentle version of this song. A song whose melody seems to be how I hear that phrase "you are not alone," whenever it comes to mind.

I have spent most of my lifetime comforting children who feel alone. As a big sister, teacher in a state institution for children who have been made "wards of the state," school administrator, hospital chaplain, and serving at summer camps - assuring children that they are not alone.

Each child navigates that feeling of alone-ness in a different way. Some become dismissive, some distract themselves with constant movement, and others cry as if their every breath is a labor of love.

But here is what I have learned. This is not home-sickness. This is home wellness. These children have such a full and healthy sense of home and family -- even those who have never known a parent's love -- that it fills their being. I have worked with sister children who have never felt deeply settled and still there is a love for the concept of home and family that fills their being. I have taught in a state-run facility with children who had been institutionalized by their families, and still there is a hope of family and a natural inclination towards warmth, affection, and connection.

It is not something that can be taken from them. It is a deep home-wellness that crosses all socio-economic boundaries. From the autistic 4-year old in a state institution, to the privileged child of loving parents at a sleep-over summer camp, this love for home, family, and being parented by love -- is universal. And it never goes away.

This morning, as I was reading the Bible lesson, I was so moved to realize that the Scriptural precedence for addressing this claim of children feeling alone is right there in I Samuel.

Hannah, after years of barrenness is blessed with a son, whom she names Samuel. And even though she loves him with all her heart, she knows that he is destined for service to God and as a boy sends him to live with Eli the priest from whom he would learn how to love and trust the Lord.

This is where the part of the story - that is in our Bible Lesson - begin:


"And the child Samuel ministered unto the Lord before Eli.

And it came to pass at that time, when Eli was laid down in his place, [that] the lamp of God went out in the temple of the Lord, where the ark of God was, and Samuel was laid down to sleep;

That the Lord called Samuel: and he answered, Here am I. And he ran unto Eli, and said, Here am I; for thou calledst me. And he said, I called not; lie down again.

And he went and lay down. And the Lord called yet again, Samuel. And Samuel arose and went to Eli, and said, Here am I; for thou didst call me. And he answered, I called not, my son; lie down again.

Now Samuel did not yet know the Lord, neither was the word of the Lord yet revealed unto him.

And the Lord called Samuel again the third time. And he arose and went to Eli, and said, Here am I; for thou didst call me.

And Eli perceived that the Lord had called the child. Therefore Eli said unto Samuel, Go, lie down: and it shall be, if he call thee, that thou shalt say, Speak, Lord; for thy servant heareth.

So Samuel went and lay down in his place. And the Lord came, and stood, and called as at other times, Samuel, Samuel. Then Samuel answered, Speak; for thy servant heareth."

Today, this story has come alive for me in a new way. Samuel was just a boy. Just a child. He was alone in the dark. The person who was his care-giver -- not his parent -- had put him to bed and he kept getting up and asking if Eli wanted him.

Eli said, no, I didn't call you, go back to bed. Sweet persistent Samuel. He returns again and again to Eli's bedchamber. Until Eli finally realizes that God was speaking directly to Samuel in the dark. Comforting, assuring, inspiring him directly, tenderly -- by name.

My heart burst. Each and every child in the world -- whether at sleep-over camps with well-appointed cabins, or in refugee camps on hostile borders, can hear their name being called, can feel the calm comfort of that loving Voice speaking directly to them -- assuring them that they are not alone. This Voice is the voice of God, divine Love. This voice not only speaks to them of their Father-Mother God's presence, but of their own spiritual maturity and purpose.

Hannah, Samuel's mother -- who had yearned for this little boy with all her being -- must have known this presence herself. She must have known that God would reach out to her son and call him by his name -- just as he had heard her weeping, seen her own tears, and sent her a son. For she was His child too.

I will be holding this story close. It touches me deeply. For all children -- and their parents.

offered with Love,

Cate