A Pastor in The Northwest

This past week we witnessed Jesus grieving for His friend, relative, and mentor John the Baptist in Matthew’s 14th chapter. Jesus modeled a pathway of moving forward through grief that can help us. Reflecting on that yesterday I watched a few TED talks on grief and discover some additional insights: Grieving is learning It was really good then and it can one day be really good again We can hold two streams of thinking simultaneously both grief and hope Also this: Some things can't be fixed and not all wounds can heal Grief is not a moment in time You can't move on but you can move forward To comfort those who’ve lost much, they can move forward but be clear - they haven't moved on (forgotten) As followers of Jesus - His new kingdom disciples, we have a hope greater than now, and even in grief, we don’t do so without hope! “Now we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, about those who are asleep, so that you will not grieve like the rest who have no hope. Fo

This past Sunday we talked about the parable of the soils found in Matthew 13 where Jesus speaks of the kind of soil that produces fruit. The big question from the message: Of the 4 soils discussed (hard path, rocky, thorny, and good soil) which describes you? If you are thinking of any but the last one - the good, fruit-producing soil, what can you do? I think Jesus might counsel you to 'do the work of God' which is to believe & trust in Him (John 6:29) and obey what He commands (Acts 5:32) and the Holy Spirit produces that great and beautiful fruit of justice and mercy and care for those who have no one and the 9 listed in Galatians 5:22-24. I'm believing that God has much fruit for us to produce - pray with me this week, "Lord, bring on the harvest of great good!" Here are a few resources I appreciated in preparing for the message on Matthew 13: My Strange Bible (covering the Weeds & Wheat parable) - https://bibleproject.com/podcast/matthew-p21-weeds-an

Last weekend at the church I lead, the spouse of our Associate Pastor Jo Bullock taught us about our identity as humans and how both men and women bear the image and stamp of God reflecting His characteristics. I loved how she spoke about being people who both shelter AND protect people God puts in our lives - family, friends, and even strangers in some cases. In fact, I've read Psalm 91 many times and totally missed this dual role that God plays for us and that we can be for others. Here's the passage: 1 He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty. 2 I will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.” 3 For he will deliver you from the snare of the fowler and from the deadly pestilence. 4 He will cover you with his pinions, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness is a shield and buckler. 5 You will not fear the terror of the night, nor the arrow that flies by day, 6

Photo from inside the cathedral in Norwich. This past Monday was a day set aside in the Anglican liturgical calendar to honor the life of Julian of Norwich. Julian, also known as Mother Julian, lived during the Middle Ages in Norwich, England. She is credited for writing the earliest surviving English language works by a woman. Though she suffered illness in her life, she wrote some beautiful and deep thoughts on the great goodness and love of God. She wrote often of joy and is credited with this phrase, "All shall be well and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well." I prayed this prayer of hers this week - maybe it can be an encouragement to you as well: God of your goodness, give me yourself; for you are sufficient for me. I cannot properly ask anything less, to be worthy of you. If I were to ask less, I should always be in want. In you alone do I have all. We tell and sing and proclaim the profound goodness of God each Sunday and this Sunday, on a day to

Recently I remembered a passage from a book I read last year that I thought I'd share: "We are all helpless when we sleep. No matter how important our job is, no matter how impressive we may be, in order to live we all have to turn off and be unconscious for about 1/3 of our lives. Everyday whether we like it our not, we must enter into vulnerability in order to sleep." (from Prayer in the Night by Tish Harrison Warren page 88) Then, the other morning I discovered this old 8th-century prayer from the liturgy of the hours that somehow found its way into a 13th-century Irish Dominican hymn: Sleep then our eyes, but never sleep The watchful heaven-directed heart, And may thy hand in safety keep The servants whose desire thou art. Reminds me of that old prayer my mother taught me that included the line "...pray the Lord my soul to keep..." Or, maybe the words at the beginning of Psalm 91 (from The Message version): You who sit down in the High God’s presence,