Postscript, an additional thought after the end of a letter. In this case, my personal script after the end of the previous blog, Covid-19  (scroll down).

We received a letter earlier this week referencing that popular phrase  from a few years ago, What would Jesus do? The writer suggested changing it to What is Jesus doing (in the midst of the Coronavirus pandemic)?

There is a lot of good happening. God is at work. Listening to the news we hear about ventilators being made available for our hospitals. We hear about companies offering to retrofit their plants to manufacture these items. We hear how our governors are making decisions to protect the citizens of their states.

We know how our local areas are responding. Sewing machines are humming and masks are being made, both for the medical community, but also for friends and family. People are offering to buy groceries and run errands for their at-risk neighbors.

Caring and kindnesses are happening.

But what about in my backyard, in my home, on my street?

I’ve mutated the question again, What should I be doing? How can I help? I’ve come up with five personal solutions, five practical resolves to help me experience and share our “far more abundant God” (Ephesians 3:20). Or as Henry Blackaby was known to say, to join God in what He is doing.

1. Keep my mind and my heart riveted on the truth of scripture. God is present. God is able. God loves. God is at work. I see all these qualities lived out in the narrative of Jesus walking on the water to get to the disciples in the midst of the storm. As he drew near, he called out to those in the boat, “It is I; do not be afraid.” John 6:20. Sometimes I need to remind myself several times a day; my forgetter is in good shape.

2. Stay informed, but not over-informed. John 7:26 (NIV) asks, “Have the authorities really concluded that he is the Christ?” Like in the days of Jesus, the authorities in my life are making decisions based on their knowledge and wisdom. I’m thankful. I also realize that the abundance of news available can lead down a path of depression and fear. I ask Bill about once a day, is there anything new I need to know?

3. Both limit and use technology. Communicating is greatly dependent on my cell phone and my computer these days. Friends who never used Zoom before are signing up for accounts to stay in contact with friends, family, business associates. I am so thankful we have this technology. I also realize if I take advantage of every invitation, screen time will dominate and I will squander away the opportunities and purposes of God for that day.

4. Take my cues from the opportunities at hand. We live in the country on a dead-end street with eleven residences each surrounded with five acres of Ponderosa Pines. We don’t naturally run into our neighbors. But we are all willing to help, to be there for the others. That starts with communication; technology makes that easy. But even better, how can I go beyond technology and relate in person. Two different friends … who live 1000 miles apart … told me they are walking their neighborhood, ringing doorbells, and asking is there anything you need? One is also asking how can I pray for you and praying on the spot (of course being mindful of social-distancing). When I took a walk this morning, three neighbors were out doing the same. We stopped and chatted from six feet away. What things are you doing to connect?

Easter is coming and we won’t be going to church. I’m pondering, how we can convey the Easter message on our street. Perhaps an Easter coffee on our deck for one other couple. I’m praying for good weather and that sheltering-in-place won’t be issues. Again, what ideas do you have?

5. Offer help and be humble enough to receive help.  Others want to help, to be involved. When I first sent out a neighborhood email with just one idea of how we might support each other, almost every neighbor responded with yes, count me in. I will help too. Community is a two-way street. We have different ideas. We have different gifts. We have each other to lean on.

What is your PS, your personal resolve? Please share your ideas. We need each other!

copyright, Sue Tell, March 2020

 

 

 

The Coronavirus is meddling. Not only is my grocery store not providing what I have come to rely on, the Y is closed, the library is closed, our church is meeting online, doctor appointments are canceled.

And the mission organization we serve with has prohibited all domestic and international travel, as well as group meetings. And encouraged all personal travel to follow the same protocol.

Meddling!

The new normal for now.

I’m left with a choice.

Just like the people of Israel on their way to the Red Sea, I can grumble. Six times in Exodus 15 and 16, a form of the word grumble appears. Six times!

As this new reality is unfolding, I found myself grumbling (maybe more than six times). I didn’t like this new normal.

Grumbling is manifested in questions. Grumbling is manifested in demanding prayers. Grumbling is manifested in impatience.

Then I was caught up short by the words of an online friend, Ruth Chou Simons. She reminded me that God has not deserted us. His Words are still truth!

“My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.”
Exodus 3:14

These words are God’s response to Moses who asked, “Now therefore, if I have found favor in your sight, please show me now your ways,” Exodus 33:13. (Bolding mine)

I was challenged; my grumbling began to dissipate as I practiced her suggestion filling in this blank:

I need God’s presence more than I need ______________________.

How would you fill it in?
More than I need control.
More than I need the fulfillment of my plans.
More than I need to feel settled.
More than I need to meet my new grand-baby.
More than I need _____________________.

I also hunger for God’s peace. John 14:27 declares, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you.” I am offered the gift of peace even in the midst. Am I grumbling or accepting?

In many various ways, I need God’s provision. Beyond my need for physical provision, I need the provision of community, of friends who are walking the same path. “In your goodness, O God, you provided for the needy.” Psalm 68:10. Although there are different communities swirling around me, the community that is most present is our neighbors. We’ve declared, we’re in this together.

God’s offerings are not changed because of the Coronavirus. His presence, his peace, and his provisions are all available.

I’m left with a choice.

And it leads me to this question, what can I give back to God?

My remembering:
He loves, “His banner over me is love” Song of Solomon 2:4
He controls, “he awoke and rebuked the wind … ‘Peace! Be still!’ … there was great calm”
Mark 4:39
He knows, “For I know the plans I have … plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.” Jeremiah 29:11
He shepherds, “The LORD is my shepherd, I have everything I need.” Psalm 23:1

My trust: Each day I’m asking, God, what would it look like to trust your Word today? I’m finding him faithful to answer.

“For if you believed Moses, you would believe me;
for he wrote of me.”
John 5:46

“Jesus answered answered them,
‘This is the work of God;
that you believe in him whom he has sent.'”
John 5:29

Copyright, March 2020, Susan Tell

 

 

 

 

“And from his fullness we have all received,
grace upon grace.”
John 1:16

I’ve been on the receiving end of God’s grace upon grace since Barbara’s memorial service held in the beautiful Tuckahoe Presbyterian Church in Richmond, VA. In the midst of hard grief, I’m experiencing a banquet of grace.

“He brought me to the banqueting house,
and his banner over me was love.”
Song of Solomon 2:4

Barbara’s service was a banquet of family, of memories, of beauty, of love — given and received, of Truth spoken boldly.

And the banquet of grace is continuing its journey to my heart.

Grief is brutal. It drained my energy. It eclipsed my normals.  I didn’t recognize me.

Grace is strong. It is a life-giving balm. It invites me to exhale. It calls me to notice God’s provisions. It is a light in the darkness.

Grace is arriving in many forms: being attentive to what is restorative, like sitting on our deck in the warm Colorado sun (surrounded by snow) while enjoying my morning coffee; or watching a comedy on Netflix; or laughing at the birds fluttering outside my window; or allowing myself to just be.

Grace is the words of truth from friends arriving on beautiful cards or in text messages and emails. Your rejoicing will be indescribable when you two meet again! Yes, Jo! Tears of joy. And this card reiterated Psalm 23:1 this way and awakened again the longing to experience God as my shepherd; When you opened your eyes this morning, the Lord had already gone before you, anticipating just what your heart will need as He walks with you through this time of loss.

Grace is arriving straight from God, from the Word of Truth.

[Jesus is] “a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief;”
Isaiah 53:3
“Surely he [Jesus] has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows;”
Isaiah 53:4

Jesus is well-acquainted with sorrow and grief and he knows how to comfort me in my sorrow and grief. “For the word of God is living and active,” Hebrews 4:12. I’m learning to pay attention.

John 14:27 is coming alive in new ways … maybe for the first time? “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you.” Jesus is offering me the gift of peace. It has its very own platter on the banquet table. I’m taking day-sized bites and it’s a balm to my soul.

Several cards have reminded, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” Matthew 5:4. Yes, it’s true; I am being comforted in so many ways.

Grace is arriving in the form of original art on this hand-made card. This lovely rose started as a small seed tucked in the earth. God took that seed and created this beauty to bring smiles of joy. Thank you Mary. Your art is exquisite!

It reminds me of the tiny mustard seed that has been ministering to me since November.

 

Aware of my need. Awake to his grace. This is my mantra in these days.

“But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you,””
II Corinthians 12:9

 

Copyright March, 2020 – Susan Tell

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Grief influencing my expected rhythm.
Unwanted, disruptive, very sad.

I woke to the news of her death early on February 6.

Anticipated.
“Short leash”, “weeks”, “days”, “minutes”.
The minutes, the days long and so slow.

Plans were made; plans were changed.

Emotions came, emotions went.
Sadness, anger, confusion, frustration — all real.
God saw. God knew. God wept.
I’m known.

Love was whispered; love was heard.
Forgiveness offered; forgiveness received.

Laughter mingled with tears.

The gift of words, of hands, of hugs.

Sleep was difficult; sleep was deep.

Food prepared; meals eaten; laundry continued.
The calendar says Valentine’s Day.
Life.

Condolences arrive — more tears.

Wisdom, gentleness, kindnesses abounded.

Prayers were whispered. Prayers were answered.

Peace is real and not real.
The hope of heaven sustains.

Trampoline reality.

May God be lifted up and glorified; as He was in life, may we experience it in death.
Or, is it not death, but new life, eternal life.

There is lightness in the writing.
A piece of joy is breaking through.
Peace that passes understanding.
Our far more abundant God.

Light in darkness.

A quiet rhythm.
A confident rhythm.
The rhythm of the path of life.

“You made known to me the path of life;
in your presence is fullness of joy;
at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.”
Psalm 16:11

 

The backstory, click here and here and here.
Rhythm, click here.

 

copyright Susan Tell, February 2020

 

 

 

 

 

“You uncovered her faith.” These words from a text share well the truth of scripture. I’d not thought of describing faith with the concept of uncovering before, but yes, that is exactly what happened.

“Long before he laid down the earth’s foundations,
he had us in mind, had settled on us as the focus of his love,
to be made whole and holy by his love.”
Ephesians 1:4, The Message Translation

“What marvelous love the Father has extended to us!
Just look at it – we’re called children of God!
That’s who we really are.”
I John 3:1, The Message Translation

A child of God – who we really are, our true identity.

Yet, our identity and God’s heart of love for us needed to be uncovered, to be revealed.

For me, God uncovered and revealed my true identity during my college years through the ministry of a Christian worship team.

For her, God allowed me the privilege of being the carrier of his message, a message that he wrote long before he laid down the earth’s foundations. I’m overwhelmed and thankful.

Last weekend, I returned from visiting her in the ICU in a Richmond, VA hospital. We whispered scripture to each other reminding us of God’s love, of God’s presence, and of God’s peace. We held hands. We prayed together. These nine days will be forever imprinted in my memory and on my heart.

As we kissed each other good-by, emotions were all over the place. Our hearts were at peace and our tears were flowing.

Our uncovered faith forged a bond we’ll enjoy forever.

“But to all who received him,
who believed in his name,
he gave power to come children of God”
John 1:12, RSV

If you are curious about more of this story, click here and here.

Thank you to Eric for taking this selfie and sacrificing himself. This was snapped after their family hike at the Grand Canyon over Christmas.
Impressive!

Tom and Susan own and operate a dairy farm in southern Minnesota. Susan is my niece.

Last month we enjoyed a delightful dinner with Tom and Susan. Both boys, now college graduates, work in other cities.

I asked, how do you like the empty nest? Tom responded first. He is struggling. I love being a parent. And now that parenting days are over I’m struggling with purpose. Anyone can milk cows;  Susan and I were chosen to be Mike and Eric’s parents.

I identified; I was right there with Tom. I’ve been pondering my purpose in this stage of my life. Like Tom and Susan, the melody my life sings is changing.

Change is hard!
Learning new rhythms requires change.
Sometimes I just don’t want to leave the familiar. And I need to; the rhythm is shifting.

God’s path, His purposes for me are NOT shifting.
The rhythm of living out that purpose is.

My word for 2020 is rhythm.

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.” Ecclesiastes 3:1. The notes in my ESV Bible referencing this verse say, “There is an appropriate occasion for every human event or activity; life is endlessly complex.”

There is indeed a rhythm to our complex lives.

There is a rhythm and God’s unchanging purposes bow to new rhythms.
And so the questions … what does stewarding the new rhythm look like now? What is the new rhythm I need to embrace?

As I’ve prayed over those questions, I’ve made the hard decision affecting Echoes of Grace.
Yes, Echoes will continue, but possibly not every Thursday.

A new melody is controlling my rhythm. I’m wanting to bring together the many things I’ve been learning about rest. The things I’ve been pondering, speaking on, and in many cases writing about.

Like Dr. Luke in his opening words of his gospel, ” … it seemed good to me also, having followed all things closely for some time past, to write an orderly account …” Luke 1:3.

I want to write a manuscript, an orderly account, on the topic of rest. This is my melody for 2020 defining my rhythm.

Echoes of Grace will continue to pop up on Thursdays, just not every Thursday. It will have a sporadic rhythm. To make sure you know when a new post is live, if you have not already done so, click the link, Follow Echoes of Grace. That way I’ll keep you in the loop and you’ll know when a new post appears.

Tom and Susan will continue to milk cows.
I’ll continue to write.
God’s purposes for us have not changed. The living out of those purposes, the rhythm, and how to steward them is changing.

“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you,
and before you were born I consecrated [gave you an unchanging purpose];”
Jeremiah 1:5 [brackets mine]

 

 

 

 

 

Reflecting as the fire glows orange

The present now past …
Remembered,
Recorded,
Rehearsed.
It was good.

The present now present …
Quiet, yet new voices,
Still, but actively restoring,
Needed, yes very needed.
It is good.

I’m excited to tell you about this wonderful volume, a Christmas gift.

This beautiful book is a collection of liturgies to use in the midst of your everyday moments.

As I have sat in front of our fire each morning, my cup of coffee at hand, I’ve turned to page 135, A Liturgy for the Ritual of Morning Coffee . As I read the words, my heart turns to prayer and each phrase reminds me of my every moment and my desire to know God in them, to recognize the holy.

Perhaps you too would like to use this liturgy for your morning.

Shared with permission:

Meet me, O Christ,
in this stillness of morning.
Move me, O Spirit,
to quiet my heart.
Mend me, O Father,
from yesterday’s harms.

From the discords of yesterday,
resurrect my peace.
From the discouragements of yesterday,
resurrect my hope.
From the weariness of yesterday,
resurrect my strength.
From the doubts of yesterday,
resurrect my faith.
From the wounds of yesterday,
resurrect my love.

Let me enter this new day,
aware of my need,
and awake

to your grace,
o Lord.

Amen.

With the beginning of the new year, perhaps it is appropriate to change yesterday to this past year. And in the next stanza, change new day to new year.

I wonder what you’ll hear from God?

“Be still … know”, from Psalm 46:10

Did you recognize the words at the beginning??? I originally shared them a year ago. In my reviewing how God has been speaking, I realized how perfect it was for this year as well. And the morning liturgy matched so well.

God’s richest far more abundant blessings to you in this new year, this new decade!

Next week (and back to Thursday posts, so January 9) a brand spanking-new post on Echoes of Grace. I’ll be sharing my word for 2020 and some of the applications I’m thinking it will require.

If you haven’t signed up to follow Echoes of Grace and receive the short devotional note I send out to those who have, please join in. Click follow Echoes of Grace and you’re included. Perhaps a good habit for the new year.

 

“The people who walked in darkness
have seen a great light;
those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness,
on them has light shined.
For to us a child in born,
to us a son is given;”
Isaiah 9:2 and 6

“The light shines in the darkness,
and the darkness has not overcome it.”
John 1:5

“Again Jesus spoke to them, saying,
“I am the light of the world.
Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness,
but will have the light of life.””
John 8:12

Rise, happy morn, rise, holy morn,
Draw forth the cheerful day from night;
O Father, touch the East, and light
The light that shone when Hope was born.
Alfred Lord Tennyson

 

Overwhelmingly thankful for the light of the world!
Merry, merry Christmas!

Listening to God through the life of Mary

Mary was personally promised the gift of advent. With that promised gift, she also received the gift of waiting.

Waiting was familiar to this young Jewish girl. For many years the Messiah had been promised. For years the people of God waited, and waited, and waited.

Then the message of the angel Gabriel came to Mary …

“Don’t be afraid, Mary … you have found favor with God!
You will conceive and give birth to a son,
and you will name him Jesus.
He will be very great … the Son of the Most High.”
excerpts from Luke 1:30-32, NLT

The waiting moved to the next chapter. Nine months of fear-filled waiting. Gabriel was wise to say, don’t be afraid. How would she tell her mother? Her mother who was busy helping her be ready for the consummation of her marriage to Joseph. How would she tell Joseph? Would he divorce her? And oh the anticipated shame the community would heap on her.

I imagine that Mary’s response to Gabriel, “I am the Lord’s servant. May everything you have said about me come true” didn’t cancel her fears. Luke 1:38. Even her song of praise recorded a few verses later didn’t negate fear as she waited. Mary was human.

The climax of the waiting, Jesus is born.

The shepherds leave their sheep and run to Bethlehem to meet the promised Messiah.

Eight days later the baby was circumcised and publicly named Jesus. Simeon, a devout older man who had been eagerly waiting for the Messiah  came to the Temple and took Jesus in his arms and proclaimed, “I have seen your salvation,” Luke 2:30.

Anna was there also. “and she began praising God. She talked about the child to everyone who had been waiting expectantly for God to rescue Jerusalem.” Luke 2:38.

Wise men came to pay homage to the newborn king. Matthew 2:1 and 2.

And Mary pondered, wondered about, and treasured all these things in her heart.  And waited.

In the waiting there was confusion and scary hard times. Twelve years later at the Passover festival in Jerusalem, unbeknownst to his parents, Jesus didn’t immediately return to Nazareth with them. He stayed behind in the temple to listen to the rabbis, to ask questions. His parents didn’t know what to think. “Son, why have you done this to us? Your father and I have been frantic searching for you everywhere.” Luke 2:48.

The waiting continued. It was a full 30 years before Jesus performed his first miracle.

Mary was familiar with waiting. Did her faith falter in those years? How did she pray? Did she doubt? She knew the holy scriptures. God’s love is everlasting (Jeremiah 31:3); God does not withhold good (Psalm 84:11); God’s presence is promised (Isaiah 41:10); God’s peace is available (Isaiah 26:3). And Mary was human. Waiting is hard!

I too am waiting; praying; wondering; living with confusion and hard things. I too know the promises of the scriptures, not just the old testament, but the new testament as well. Yet still, waiting is hard, very hard.

The words of Peter Salmon, pastor of Trinity Church in Cedar Falls, Iowa put waiting in perspective for me earlier this month. In his sermon, Waiting for Christmas, he said,

“God will make our waiting worth it:
By overshadowing our waiting with His glory.
By using it to bring hope to others.
By accomplishing the impossible in us and through us.”

Also he noted, “What we are waiting for changes our willingness to wait.” Thank you Peter for your hope filled waiting words.

Merry Christmas!

Echoes of Grace will return January 2, 2020.

 

 

 

 

 

Melissa’s Story of Listening to God through the life of Mary.

My friend Melissa graciously offered to share her story of experiencing the power of God in her own life.  The narrative of Mary and Elizabeth and Sarah was not just ancient history for Melissa. It was the piece of God’s story that Melissa needed, which brought hope to her heart. And  eventually God filled Melissa’s womb too as He did for Mary, Elizabeth, and Sarah.

In her words …

“Mary is my people. Mary, Elizabeth, Sarah …

God has long chosen the abnormal for His ongoing story of redemption and hope and powerful glory. More often than not scriptures tell of the barren and broken and small being used in mighty ways by God. And their pain is part of the glory. Without Elizabeth being old and barren, John’s story is normal, everyday. Without Mary being a virgin Jesus’s conception would not have been the holy one described to us.

As I read of these stories, these women, I am suddenly struck by the fact that these are my women, my people. I can relate to them. To their waiting, their confusion, their pain. Their stories are ugly, frustrating, hopeless at times. I feel comfortable around them.

This feeling of comfort as I sit and imagine their realities is new, but so is a sense of my story being bigger than I usually accept. If their smallness has been celebrated for centuries, if their pain was made beautiful by God, if their stories are remembered because of God’s power, than maybe me story is significant too. It is the same God that was near them that is near me. It is the same Father who called them as the One who has called me. The unchanging nature of God’s purposes are as true for me as it was for them. So my story is their story. Their story mine. We are small and weak. Yet our story is painted with tender brush strokes from a tender Lord. His power is made perfect in our weakness and He is kind enough to take us along for the adventure of seeing His power at work in us.

So I am thankful for the realization that my story is good, significant, chosen, and I can relate to my sisters of scripture more than I could have imagined.”

“Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God …
And behold, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived …
her who was called barren.
For nothing will be impossible with God.”
Luke 1

Thank you Melissa for recognizing that the stories God has allowed to be preserved for us, are the very stories that God wants to encourage us with today.

“… if their stories are remembered because of God’s power, then maybe my story is significant too.”

Yes, Melissa, your story IS significant! And the powerful God that Mary knew, that Elizabeth knew, is the same powerful God who is at work in your life … in our lives.