Daily Devotional 4.29.20 Marilyn Carpenter

Marilyn and art Carpenter

Marilyn and art Carpenter

“Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth; Break forth into joyous song and sing praises! Sing praises to the Lord” Psalms 98:4-5

I love to sing!  I sing when I clean house; I sing when I hike in bear country; I sing when doing a jigsaw puzzle.  I sang to my children and I sing to my grandchildren. I do not sing around other people; I am not a good singer.  My family is polite. They know my songs are saying, “I love you!”  I may not get the tune right and I may be off-key, but they feel my caring for them in every verse.  

I have often wished that I had a lovely singing voice, that someone would hear me sing and say, “You should be in choir!” or “We could use you in our musical!”  Alas, what I have heard is more along the lines of, “Not everyone can be in the choir.  I’m sure you have some other talent.”  As I mature, this doesn’t bother me as much as it used to.  Didn’t John Wesley say something about singing “lustily and with a good courage”?  Yes, and he added, “Be no more afraid of your voice now, nor more ashamed of its being heard.”

I like to think that when I sing to God, that God also doesn’t mind if my notes may not match the ones in the hymnal.  I’m pretty sure that God cares more about the feeling in my heart than the purity of my voice.  Some songs touch my heart so much that tears spring to my eyes when I just see them printed in the bulletin and know we’ll be singing them soon.  The “Hymn of Promise” and “Here I Am, Lord” take my breath away.  My singing may not be exact, but it is “joyous!”

Nature is filled with joyous songs of the Lord:  honking geese, babbling brooks, softly falling rain, calls of birds, even snorts of moose!  (A strange question pops into my mind:  do birds ever sing “off-key”?)  There are an infinite number of joyful noises in the world.  God’s creation is a symphony of life and love and joy.  This symphony is for everyone.  Some may hear it with their ears, some with their eyes, some with their hearts.  If it fills you with joy, then it brings you closer to God.

In this challenging time of social distancing, how lucky are those of us who can step outside, who can   access the joy of nature.  Yet, we can sing inside or out.  We can feel God’s love in the house or in the woods.  We can find our own way to sing God’s praises.  

What makes you feel joyous?  What ways do you sing God’s praises?  Do you use your voice?  Do you use your hands?  Do you use your mind?  Do you use your heart?  When you feel your heart fill with the love of God, then you can sing praises!  When you share that love with others, then you are making a joyful noise to the Lord!

This week, listen for the music of God.  Look for ways you can be joyful.  Share God’s love and joy with others.  Sing with whatever tune and key you want.  You are part of God’s symphony.

Thank you, God, for creating such a marvelous symphony of life and love and joy.  Thank you for helping us be a part of that symphony.  Let us be your instruments.  In Christ’s name, we pray.

Marilyn Carpenter has three wonderful grandchildren, who all live here in Anchorage, which is why she and her husband Art live in Alaska.  They moved here 12 years ago from San Diego when their first grandson was born.  A retired family therapist, Marilyn can recite the lines from “When Harry Met Sally,” as well as sing all the songs from “Sound of Music.”  (Of course, she will not sing them in public.) 

Daily Devotional 4.23.20

sadness.jpeg

There's a season for everything, and a time for every matter under the heavens ... a time for crying and a time for laughing, a time for mourning and a time for dancing." - Ecclesiastes 3:1,4

"But it could be so much worse."

I can't count the number of times I have found myself saying that to my therapist. "This is bad/painful/uncomfortable/awful ... BUT it could be so much worse." She always patiently responds with "Yes, we can always compare ourselves to someone experiencing something worse. But pain is pain." Sometimes I think that's what therapy, friendships, mentorships, etc. can be, for a lot of us - Listening to someone respond in patience and kindness enough, so when we are going through our daily lives, we can hear their voices and offer ourselves that same compassion.

I have found myself thinking, and saying, that unhelpful thing to myself a lot lately: "But it could be worse." I am so grateful for so many things - extra time with my kids (most days), a job that allows me to work from home, health, technology that connects us. It's easy for me to remember these things when quarantine life gets hard. And like our scripture says, there is a time for everything under the heavens - there is a time for these gratitude practices.

But there's also a time for mourning, and for sadness, and for grief. And friends ... this quarantine life is hard. Some days, it's only a matter of minor inconveniences, and some days - it's really, really hard. And we know, it could always be worse. But playing that pain comparison game and calling it a gratitude practice, well, it doesn't help. In fact, I'd go as far as saying ignoring or distracting ourselves from the pain of isolation and separation by guilting and forcing ourselves to hold a near constant positive outlook, is more harmful than it is helpful.

I want you to know, it is ok to not be ok right now. It is ok to grieve for life as it once was, to name that you were not meant to be a homeschool teacher, to cry every time you put on your mask to leave the house, to have a love/hate relationship with Zoom, and to ache to reach out and hold your neighbor's hand and sing "On Eagle's Wings." Yes, there is a time for joy and for laughing, and there is a time for weeping and for mourning. There is a time to dance, and a time to ache. Maybe, this time is all of those times. Maybe, we dance in the morning and we cry over lunch. Maybe, we laugh on our evening walk and we cry over having to cook dinner. Again. Maybe, we were created to feel not just positivity and gratitude, but sadness and frustration as well. Miraculously, we get to hold space for the complexity of joy and gratitude, and hurt and pain, all of it together. Because God is right there with us, through it all, and I'm pretty sure the God who created us to feel all the feels, can handle all of our feels, too. 

- Erynne DeVore, Director of Children’s Ministry

 

Daily Devotional 4.22.20

“Encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing. And we urge you, brothers and sisters, warn those who are idle and disruptive, encourage the disheartened, help the weak, be patient with everyone. Make sure that nobody pays back wrong for wrong, but always strive to do what is good for each other and for everyone else.”  1 Thessalonians 5:11,14-15 

The Meidel family

The Meidel family

As I was preparing for one of my last business trips at the beginning of March, my wife, Natalie, gave me a travel pack of Lysol wipes (back when such was available!) and instructed me to wipe down my tray table, arm rests and light switch after boarding the airplane. I dutifully did as I was instructed but, honestly, I felt a little silly. But during the flight, I watched as a parent put their baby on their tray table and changed its diaper. ‘Wow’, I thought. ‘I think I’ll perform this little ritual whether there are COVID-19 concerns or not’! I guess I’m more aware now. A new normal perhaps.

During the ceremonial start to the Iditarod in Anchorage, I was hanging out at a private function and I saw an old friend unexpectedly. Excited to see him, I held out my hand. He reached out his elbow. It was awkward. He apologized. I apologized. I knew better; I was just glad to see him and had acted instinctively. We exchanged some pleasantries, but the conversation was definitely impacted. Another new normal perhaps.

And just last week, I made my weekly trip to the store. I’m the only one allowed to shop in my family since my work requires me to be away from the house on most days. From a bit of a distance, I saw an older woman, crouched over her cart as she made her way through the store. She stopped to cough. It was innocent enough, allergies perhaps, but people around her scattered like cockroaches when the light is turned on! I felt a tear. I wanted to reach out to her, put my arm around her and comfort her. But I didn’t. Like others, I went in a different direction. Will being afraid of everyone be a new normal too?

I’ve been thinking a lot about what will be ‘the new normal’. I have been consumed with thoughts of how this will end. Will we ever go back to how things were? After this period of ‘social distancing’ – perhaps a long period – when will it be OK to shake a hand? Who will tell us when it’s OK to hug someone in need without fear of putting our own selves at risk? I miss being in church, though the online services have been superb (thank you to all who make this possible). I miss holding hands, singing On Eagles Wings, and then wishing everyone a good week. Will we feel comfortable in that space anytime soon? Touching elbows, at least for me, was awkward at best. Now we can’t get within six feet of each other! What will ‘a new normal’ look like? What will ‘a new normal’ feel like?

As I write this, here in Anchorage, there are about 140 COVID-19 cases – about 1 case for every 2,000 people. There has been a COVID-19 related hospital stay that equates to 1 for every 16,000 people. And there’s been a COVID-19 related death equating to 1 for every 68,000 people. I grew up in a town of just 3,000 people. Such equivalents are meaningful to me and help me keep things in perspective! Please, don’t stop reading! I am not suggesting we are overreacting as we ‘hunker down’ and help to ‘flatten the curve’. To the contrary, within the realities of my work, my family is doing all that the governor and mayor have asked us to do. What I do worry about is the fear that’s been created about the virus; a fear that’s far more intense than the statistics justify. It is this overwhelming fear that causes me concern about how different ‘the new normal’ might be from what we viewed as ‘normal’ just a few short months ago.

Without ignoring risk, without setting risk aside, in what ways might we exit our rigid confines (figuratively if not physically) to make a difference on our street, in our neighborhood, and in our community? Perhaps that is as simple as a phone call, rather than an impersonal email or text, using our voice to bring someone joy and comfort. Maybe it’s reaching out to an elderly or vulnerable neighbor with an offer to do some of their shopping. Maybe it’s cooking a meal for someone who is alone. Maybe it’s sewing masks. And maybe it’s verbally reaching out to thank store clerks, restaurant workers and health care professionals for coming to work each day, while remembering that many of them have no choice.

There was a news story recently about a young woman heading into the grocery store who heard a woman yelling for help from her car at those passing nearby. The young woman went over to the car and the elderly woman said she and her husband were in their 80’s and were afraid to go into the grocery store. She handed the young woman $100 and a grocery list consisting of a few needed items. The young woman obliged and, when finished, put the groceries in the couple’s trunk. Her effort involved minimal physical interaction with the couple, but that effort had maximum touch. What would Jesus do? Jesus would do that!

Our lives should reflect the light of Jesus which, in turn, will cause people around us to glorify God. We must allow our lives to exude encouragement and hope. Let us step forward – while most are stepping back - to involve ourselves in the lives of others. Let us allow the compassion of Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit to lead us. May you stay safe. May you help others stay safe as well – physically, emotionally and spiritually.
 
“In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.”  Matthew 5:16

Rick Meidel, his wife Natalie and daughter Sarah moved to Alaska and began attending St. John in 2018. Rick is Vice-President & General Manager for Crowley Fuels, managing their fuel sales & distribution business across Alaska. Rick can be reached at meidy@me.com or 832-418-9200.