ONE MORE WALK "There's No Place Like Home"

HOME.....a lovely physical dwelling that holds memory, safety and well-being for all who cross its threshold. It's the place we most want to be after a significant time away, a long hard day, or are needing some shelter from a world bent on sin. But HOME is also... and sometimes more so...a lovely dwelling of peace, and well being that is not defined by anything physical at all.

Like the HOME we know when we're with someone who loves us, not for anything we can do or give, but for who we are, or the HOME we come to when we've struggled to find that place where who we are and what we love to do, finally lines up with some joyful sharing, meaning, and purpose. It's the HOME we run to when we've failed miserably and need somebody, somewhere to hold us and tell us it will be alright, and then there they are. Or.... it's the HOME of peace we feel while listening to Gary McSpadden sing, "In this Very Room" or "Start Me Up" by The Rolling Stones, depending upon your particular persuasion of "peace."

And it's the HOME that comes over you when you're stroking the ears of a beloved pet, listening to your daughter go on and on about how she's loving her first job, drinking a cup of hot tea with your best friend, lingering over a delicious meal with companions you'd die for, reading a good book, stumbling upon a piece of comforting scripture that has your name all over it, working hard with others toward a common good and life-giving purpose, welcoming the embrace of someone who is holding your sorrow, sitting contentedly with someone you love, and having someone you love sit contentedly with you.

Which is why sitting with Jesus can be the best possible HOME there is. There's so much love there. So very much. So much so, that it can withstand anything. It can withstand all the ways we choose to resist, refuse, fight and challenge Jesus' presence; which is why it feels like HOME. This HOME, like Jesus, remains steady and secure even when we cannot. I think it's like Robert Frost said... “Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.”

But with Jesus, I don't think there's any "have to" about it. It's "want to... chooses to.... deeply longs to.... take us in." And the thing is if we decide Jesus is a good HOME for us to live with and be, there's no "have to go there" for us. We want to... choose to... deeply long to... have Jesus take us right on in. And oh what a lovely dwelling, safety, peace and well-being for all who cross His threshold. There's so much love there. So very much. So much so, it can withstand anything; which is why "there is no place like HOME," especially if our HOME is with Jesus.

May Jesus be a apart of every HOME you know and love today. 

Blessings.  Leslee 

ONE MORE WALK "Do Nothing But Be Still"

If you head East, from Mount Gilead, NC for about five hours on Hwy 64, it won't be long before you find your way to The Pocosin Wildlife Refuge. It's a beautiful preserved sanctuary, which isn't too far from Plymouth, NC if you're somebody who likes to look at maps. This Plymouth, however is not to be confused with the Plymouth in Massachusetts where the Pilgrims landed in 1620, which you probably know. Others of us need to go back to our fifth grade history class. I really wish it was against the law for there to be two places with the same name.

Fortunately, if you happen to have a dear spouse who is patient about such things, and can drive you to a lake located in the Pocosin Wild Refuge where hundreds of Tundra Swan are happily soaking their feet before sunrise, every miscalculation you ever had about where the Pilgrims landed, falls away. For from the moment you see and hear these gorgeous creatures, you're transported from 2024, and everything that comes with it, to the place of "Do Nothing But Be Still." You know that only a little while ago, you were making plans, reading a book, paying bills, sending emails, putting things in place, creating something new, solving a problem, holding who knows how many worries and had so many things you were wanting to do. But now, you can't hold anything but the beauty and noise all around you.

In fact, the noise alone, from so many birds chatting away, stops and startles you. I guess if I had just flown 4000 miles from the Arctic tundra and knew I had to make that same trip back on nothing but my own wings, I'd have something to say about it as well. But such a sight and sound stops you just the same. It all causes you to put down whatever has your heart and mind tied up in a frenetic, worrisome mess and do nothing but be still. Or at least it did me.

I'm not sure why it takes such a glorious gift to remind us of what we already know. We're not meant to live life as if there's no stop. The stops are what make the go keep going. We know this. We know this. And yet, the pull to do otherwise seems oh so strong. I love how Jesus even rebuked the wind and the sea to "be still" as if they too, needed to stop from their many watery, windy labors. ("And Jesus awoke and rebuked the wind and said to the sea, 'Peace! Be still!' And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm.'" Mark 4:39) I realize Jesus' action brought great comfort to the disciples who were fearing a horrendous storm, but maybe His action was for the wind and sea as well. Maybe these gifts of nature were needing a nudge toward calm as we all do from time to time.

This is what I know and I bet you do too. When I do let the calm have its way, when I do either intentionally or unintentionally stop, and do nothing but be still, all that is awaiting my attention and care is so much better served and cared for. And the thing is, the stop and still don't have to be long. Ten minutes on your porch with a cup of coffee, a quiet walk around your yard to enjoy the flowers, some quiet minutes in your car before going inside, sitting outside drinking in the night sky, a stroll in the park, a bike ride, letting scripture offer you God's comfort and care, resting in a favorite chair, a nap, or allowing the wonder of tundra swans and anything else in creation to catch you by surprise... they can all offer us the chance to do nothing but be still and well... know that God is perhaps a little closer than we realized and much nearer than we often imagine or believe.

It's believed that Lewis and Clark provided us with the first description of tundra swans or "whistling swans" as they came to call them. During their expedition to the West they described seeing and hearing birds with a whistle-like call when they flapped their wings.

I share this because I want you to know that History and me are finding ways to make up and that I like the idea of these two adventurers being stopped and startled by the same birds I was. I like learning again that God is always trying to catch our attention, every minute of every day. I like learning that God has been stopping and startling people with wonder and beauty for a very long time and will not stop doing so ever. I like that God invites, nudges, compels, pleas and begs us, from time to time, to do nothing but be still. We only have to have the ears and eyes to hear and see. And on those days when we cannot either hear or see, let us pray for the wonder and beauty of God's creation to show up and stop us in our place. For it will surely be a stop and calm that will replenish our go to keep going. It will help us to do nothing but be still so that we may know God is right here, and has been for a very long time.

May God's gracious wonder and beauty stop and startle you today in life-giving ways.

Restful Blessings Friends,

Leslee

ONE MORE WALK Oh How You Matter

The other day my friend John called. He calls about two to three times a year to check in and...well see if I want to buy any furniture. "Hi Leslee. This is John. We have a great sale going on this weekend. Everything in the store is 30% off and I thought I'd let you know."

John is the manager at Badcock Furniture in Troy, NC. We have become friends because my family has bought a LOT of furniture over the past twenty years...in particular, beds... from these nice folks. I'm not sure why we became so enamored with beds other than we kept trying to figure out how to help two little girls, then two elementary age girls, then two middle school girls, and then two high school girls have the right beds for the small room they shared. Should you need or want a bed for your kids, from Badcock Furniture, we can recommend quite a few. However, if it's not beds you're looking for but instead someone who will take an interest in you, check-in, and not forget about you when there's a good sale going on, these kind folks in Troy will more than do.

I realize John's calls to me could be chalked up to nothing more than a good marketing technique but they never feel that way. It feels more like someone who knows something of my dis-functional history with beds and space and wants to see how I'm coping now. It always feels like a call of care. I imagine it sounds crazy to think this way about a sales call. But the way I see it, you can't have folks come into your home 7-8 times, assemble beds, and take the old beds away without them becoming friends or at the very least have them become folks you're more than happy to support for all the good they've shared your way. So, I'm always happy to hear from John even if he's hoping to sell me one more bed.

Yet more than this, John's call has me thinking about how I connect and disconnect from the people around me, those I care for, and the ones I once did. I've found myself thinking who are the people I've lost touch with, let slip away or completely lost for disinterest, lack of intention, and care. I've thought too how we can do this with church people. One day we're together, sharing in the blessings of Church, then something happens, and nothing is the same. The next thing we know those we've knelt with at the altar, served with at the nearby shelter, laughed with while washing dishes in the church kitchen, prayed with for healing and peace, worked hard with for fruitful ministry, and cried with over the death of loved ones are no longer there. They're gone. And while we may initially be concerned and reach out, as time goes by we let them slip from our care, lose our intention and forget what we once shared. That is, until we perhaps need something from them; their vote on an important matter, money to fund a new building or renovation, or their expertise and skill with a special project. I'm not sure we spend a lot time reflecting upon the harm we cause by reaching out to people only because we want something from them, in place of offering some care for them.

I realize John's call may seem just like this, manipulative and insincere, as only wanting something from me. And maybe it is but with this exception. He continues to call, ever hopeful, yes, that my family might buy yet one more piece of furniture but also with the acknowledgment of a shared history and story that he doesn't want to dismiss. I welcome his call because it means we've not been forgotten and that regardless if we ever buy another piece of furniture from him, we matter. I find myself wondering if I could somehow harness John's intention into those relationships I've lost or allowed to slip away. Could his consistent reaching out be something the church might embrace? What if in place of asking for something we needed from those we haven't seen at church in a while, we called them up and asked, "Is there anything you need?" "Is there anything I or the church can do that might encourage you to come back?" "Would you let me take you to lunch or could we have coffee?" "I would love to hear how you are and the story for why you left."

I realize that such questions may not have any impact on restoring a lost relationship or encourage someone to come back to church who has left. But what I do believe such questions can do is show someone they are not forgotten, they matter, and are genuinely cared for. And that in itself is transforming. Having someone see us, genuinely care for us, and sincerely desire our well-being can heal what is hurting, restore what has been lost, and lift us up from the bent over, broken places where we sometimes find ourselves. It helps us know we're not forgotten and that our lives matter. And if it makes us feel this way, it must surely make others feel this way too. All that's needed is some faithful intention to reach out and care and... maybe a really nice bed for a good night's sleep... or at the very least a thoughtful sales manager who won't forget you matter. For all the ways each of you so dearly matter, I give God thanks.

Blessings, Leslee