A story from my anti-plastic crusade

For Lent this year, my congregations are focusing on living more simply, in terms of our space, purchasing decisions, time management, awareness of environmental impact, disposal habits, diet, etc. I'm super excited about it, because this is something near and dear to my heart, and I have thoroughly enjoyed an excuse to finally read all the books on the topic that I have wanted to read but haven't had time - but now I can call it work and Lent preparation. (Below I will include the list of resources I am providing for my congregation, so Kids - you can try this at home!)

One of the books I decided to read was Plastic-Free: How I Kicked the Plastic Habit and How You Can Too. I am three chapters in and already I am finding it at once shocking, exciting, distressing, and empowering. The first chapter outlines where this woman's journey started, and some of the things she has learned about the dangers of plastic to our health and the health of creation. Truly horrifying stuff, but presented in a way both appropriately serious and light-hearted enough to prevent me from feeling guilty and giving up. Each chapter thereafter focuses on the impact of specific categories of plastic (bags, bottles, etc.), what some people are already doing to eliminate

their use and offer reasonable replacements, activist organizations and movements around the nation you can get involved in, etc.

Now, plastic bags have long been something about which I quickly get on my high horse. I try not to be too judgmental about people's life choices, but I just don't see any benefit to anyone for using as many single-use plastic bags as we do. Did you know the average American family takes home 1500 bags in a year? Or that 12 million barrels of oils are used to produce the 100 billion plastic shopping bags we use a year? Or that the world uses about one million bags per minute?? (More shocking stats here.) And each one of these simply goes into a landfill, into the environment to litter it, or into

Albatross eats plastic; bird dies but plastic remains.

innocent and unsuspecting sea animals who mistake them for food. It is just so senseless. Using them to pick up dog poo? They make specific bags for that, and they are not that expensive and they are biodegradable. Using them to line your bathroom trash can? You don't actually have to do that at all, or if you must, you can use one bag to do that and instead of taking the whole bag out each time, just dump the can directly into the main garbage vessel. There is just no reason to use plastic bags.

Okay, sorry for that little diversion into High Horse City. Back to my point: By extension, I also just hate the amount of plastic that comes with our dry cleaning, and I feel much more powerless about this. We use 1-800-dryclean, which is an awesome service that is reasonably priced and comes to pick up and deliver clothes directly to your door. Yes, I know dry cleaning isn't good for the environment, either, but Michael wears suits and dress shirts for work, he uses the service to keep his expensive work clothes looking nice. Even though they usually put several items in each plastic sleeve, we still end up with so much blue plastic with each returned order. ICK. We had been wondering aloud together if there was anything we could do about that.

Well, as it turns out, my book had a suggestion. Here is a cotton bag that you can use to deliver your dry cleaning, and then it serves as an organic cover for their return in lieu of plastic. Huzzah! I was so excited, I sent the link to Michael, who forwarded it to Pete the dry cleaning guy to see if it was possible.

Pete wrote right back: "Funny you should mention it," he said. "Your timing is impeccable. Just this week, I was looking into an option like this. We would like to find a way to use less plastic, too." He asked if he could give us a call. Michael gave the phone to me and I chatted with Pete about where I found the link and why I was interested. He said he had been looking at another option, too, but this was a really good one as well. I said, "As a conscientious customer and citizen, I would find this option very appealing, and if you went this way, I would recommend you to all my friends." He said, "Well, we're not really in it for the money. I mean, of course there is a marketing and competition aspect to it, but we mostly are just interested in wasting less."

Then he said, "Can I ask you something? I'm not gonna try to sell you one, but can I just do some market research on you? How much would you be willing to pay for something like this?" I said,

"The Clothesnik, a 100% cotton garment bag made specifically
for those who love to dry clean but hate to pollute."

"My parents' grocery store in California has a program where you can buy a canvas bag for say, $2. Then every time you use one of their bags (not per trip, but per bag you use), you get 5¢ off. So in maybe a month's time, you've paid for your bag, and after that, you are saving money. I would be willing to do something like that here - pay an upfront cost, knowing that I would make that money back and then some the more I use it." He responded to that very enthusiastically. "What a great idea! You must work in marketing!" Nope, I said, laughing. I'm a pastor. I just want to give people an incentive to use less plastic. He said, "You must have gotten an entrepreneurial spirit from your parents, then." Nope, dad's a pastor too, and mom's a teacher! Well, whatever the case, he thought it was a great idea. And even with the small discount, they wouldn't lose anything because they would be saving the cost of the plastic. Everyone wins. He thanked me very much for my ideas and my time, I thanked him for caring and looking into it, and we said goodbye.

Honestly, I couldn't believe this conversation was even happening. Michael and I had just been talking about how as small as one person may seem, he or she can make a difference. I always joke at the store (not just the grocery store, but every store) when I pull out my own bags, "Saving the earth, one bag at a time." But just think - my one little idea in what Michael is calling my "anti-plastic crusade" inspired a guy at a huge dry-cleaning company in something he was already thinking about, and now my little idea (which I got from my parents' small town grocery store) could be implemented in such a way as to save hundreds and thousands of pounds of single-use plastic!

I am so buzzed about this. I don't know that I have ever felt quite so empowered as a citizen before. Things are so cool sometimes.

Resources to Help You Live More Simply:

WEBSITES:

Nourishing Minimalism (http://nourishingminimalism.com/)  - The goal of this Christian blog is to “help people clear the clutter, invite calmness into their homes and enjoy the time they spend together.”

The Story of Stuff Project (www.storyofstuff.org) - learn where your stuff comes from and where it goes in this series of clever, easy-to watch videos, and learn how to take action.

Project 333 (theproject333.com/about) - Could you live happily with only 33 items of clothing per season? Project 333 says yes, and you will feel freer than ever before. Tips on how to pare down your closet and live with fewer clothes.

Becoming Minimalist (www.becomingminimalist.com) - A family of four decided to live with fewer possessions and as a result found a better way to live a life centered on more important pursuits.

Giving it Away for Lent (https://www.facebook.com/groups/234176396671993/) - A Facebook group that offers resources and community in your effort to get rid of stuff you don’t need.

My Plastic-Free Life (myplasticfreelife.com) - One plastic addict’s effort to eliminate single-use plastic from her life. (See also Plastic-Free book below.)

BOOKS:

Sustaining Simplicity: A Journal by Anne Basye → Down-to-earth journal entries from someone trying to live more simply.

The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up: The Japanese Art of Decluttering and Organizing by Marie Kondo → A categorical method of decluttering – keep only what “sparks joy” in your life.

7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess by Jen Hatmaker  → What’s the payoff from living a deeply reduced like? It’s the discovery of a greatly increased God - a call toward Christ-like simplicity and generosity that transcends social experiment to become a radically better existence.

Enough: Discovering Joy Through Simplicity and Generosity by Pastor Adam Hamilton → Includes keys to experiencing contentment, overcoming fear, and discovering joy through simplicity and generosity. This book could change your life, by changing your relationship with money.

Plastic-Free: How I Kicked the Plastic Habit and How You Can Too by Beth Terry → A guide to giving up plastic, and why you should do it.

Simple Abundance: A Daybook of Comfort and Joy by Sarah Ban Breathnach → Daily essays on embodying an attitude of simplicity and abundance.

Satisfied: Discovering Contentment in a World of Consumption by Jeff Manion → A Christian look at seeking satisfaction.

Sabbath as Resistance: Saying NO to the Culture of NOW by Walter Brueggemann → Sabbath isn’t about keeping rules; it is about becoming a whole person.

Sabbath: Finding Rest, Renewal, and Delight in our Busy Lives by Wayne Muller → We need not schedule an entire day each week. Sabbath time can be a Sabbath afternoon, a Sabbath hour, a Sabbath walk. (Poems, stories, and suggestions for practice)

Just a Little Bit More: The Culture of Excess and the Fate of the Common Good by (Lutheran pastor) T. Carlos Anderson → Is America’s religion Christianity, or consumerism?

Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life by Barbara Kingsolver → A family of four vows for a year to eat only food they grow themselves or can buy from their neighbors. Complete with expository essays and recipes. You are what you eat.

Sermon: I'm listening. (Or am I?) (Jan. 18, 2015)

Epiphany 2B

January 18, 2015

1 Samuel 3:1-10

            This week in confirmation class, we started learning about prayer – what it is, how we do it, what we expect to get from it, what it is like when we don’t get from it what we had hoped. We had a brief debate as to whether prayer is a one-way conversation with God, or two-way, or something else altogether that can’t be defined in our human words.

            Well, what would you say? I think most of us believe intellectually that prayer ought to be at least a two-way conversation – that is, not only do we ask God for things and then hope to see them come to fruition in a way we can recognize, but also sometimes God answers us in a way we can perceive. I suspect the reason the debate arose, however, is that this is not always how we experience

prayer. I suspect most of us have had the experience that we pray and pray for something to happen, but it doesn’t. Or we pray and pray for answers from God, but don’t get them. Or we pray and pray for guidance, but don’t receive it. For some of us, it may feel like prayer is often a one-way conversation, where we plead and plead, and God ignores and ignores.

            But I’m not so sure it is a matter of God ignoring our prayers so much as it is a matter of us not listening for the response. Perhaps that is why one of the lines that has grabbed hold of my heart this week is Samuel’s eventual response to the voice he keeps hearing: “Speak, for your servant is listening.” Three times he has heard this voice calling him in the quiet of the night. The author of Samuel tells us that Samuel “did not yet know the Lord,” and that in fact “the word of the Lord was rare in those days,” so naturally he did not suspect that this voice could belong to God. But the wise

old priest Eli perceives that it might be the Lord, and tells Samuel to respond accordingly. And so he does.

            I asked our Bible study this past week if Samuel’s response was ever their prayer – simply to say, “Okay, God, I’m listening. What have you got for me today?” I admit it is not often mine. I usually have a laundry list of things I need to ask God about, things I want or need, asking for guidance, or even offering thanksgiving or praise, but my prayers are so often a whole lot of me talking. It’s sort of like had a sweatshirt I had when I was young that said in bright colored letters, “I’m talking and I can’t shut up!” And while that is still pretty true about the way I interact with people, it is especially true about my prayer life: “I’m praying and I can’t shut up.” Perhaps the same is true for you. For me, I think one of the primary reasons I “pray and can’t shut up” is that if I stop and listen, I might actually hear God’s response – and sometimes God’s response is not something that I want to hear. Sometimes it calls me to something I don’t want to do, or suggests I accept something I don’t want to be true. But as I long as I “pray and can’t shut up” I never have to hear an undesirable response.

            But this innocent response from the young boy Samuel, this boy who did not yet know the Lord but had dedicated his life to serving God, shows that “shutting up” is one of the most important things we can do in prayer. “Speak, for your servant is listening.” My teachers in school always said, “You can’t listen if you’re talking!” and this is true in prayer, too. Listening is so hard to do, but it is an essential element of that two-way conversation that prayer should be. How can you really get to know someone, after all, if you do all the talking?

            In a novel by Czech author Milan Kundera, he tells a story about a woman who works in a restaurant, and although the restaurant wasn't very popular, people always came so they could talk to this woman.  She always listened and said, "Uh-huh," in the right places.  What I love about the way Kundera writes it is he says usually when people talk to other people, they wait for a chance to jump in and say, "Yeah, for me too, except for me..." and then talk about themselves.  But this woman wasn't like that.  She never said, "Yeah that's like me." She always just listened.

            What would prayer be like if we did as much listening as we did talking? If we just allowed space for God to speak to us, and said, “Uh-huh” in all the right places, and didn’t just come with a list of things we need to get off our chest, and did all the talking? What might we learn? How might it

shape us and form us? How might it affect our lives?

            Tomorrow is the day the nation celebrates the life and work of Martin Luther King, Jr. When we think of King, we imagine this giant – a man of faith, a skilled orator, a charismatic leader who made a huge difference in the character and direction of our country, and someone who continues to inspire today. What we don’t imagine is a man who would ever doubt. We hear, “I have a dream!” but we don’t hear, “God, I quit.” But he was that man, too. In one powerful sermon, he told the story of a night in January, 1956, during the Montgomery bus boycott, when he received a death threat on the telephone. He tried to let it go (he had received many others like it), but he thought about his wife, and his new sleeping baby, and he couldn’t get back to sleep. He went to the kitchen, and as he tells it, he “took his problem to God.” He was exhausted and about to give up. He asked God for help, and in return, he says, he “could hear the quiet assurance of an inner voice, saying, ‘Stand up for righteousness,

stand up for truth. God will be at your side forever.’” The inner calm that came from this small voice gave him the courage to keep going in his work. And aren’t we glad that he did!

            Could King have heard that voice if he was doing all the talking? Could he have been given that gift if he hadn’t first listened to God in his moment of need? For Martin Luther King, Jr., prayer was an essential piece of the fight for civil rights – both the speaking and the listening. God’s voice guided him and strengthened him. Somehow in the midst of violence and intolerance, King was able to find a way to listen for God’s voice, to say, even in his exhaustion, “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.”

            It’s not easy, though, is it? The inner dialogue that constantly goes on in our heads poses a challenge – how do we quiet it? In addition, discerning God’s voice from all the other voices that seem to be pulling for our attention and telling us how to live our lives isn’t always easy. And then of course there is the problem that when we do finally discern God’s voice speaking to us, we don’t like what it is saying, and want to answer, “Return to sender. Try again.” I talked last week about my star gift of acceptance, and how hard it can be to accept what comes our way, and God’s call to us can be terribly hard to accept. Look at the call of Martin Luther King Jr. Sure it was a call to pursue righteousness and truth, but it also led to a lot of pain for him and his family, and of course eventually his tragic death. The call that Jesus issues to the disciples today in the gospel lesson – this, too, was a call into the unknown, and who would go that way without some trepidation?

            Yes, listening to God can have some terrifying consequences. But just like Martin Luther King trusted that even if he was too tired to go on, God would stand by his side and never leave him, we, too, must trust in that voice that comes to us. It comes in the quiet, when life calms down for a moment. It comes in the dark of night, when we are overcome with sadness. It comes persistently, tugging at us until we listen.

And listen we do: by the grace of God, who patiently whispers to us in the night, who holds our hand, who calls us to do God’s scary but fulfilling work. May the God who speaks to us also give us the courage to listen.

Let us pray… Speak, Lord, for your servants are listening… speak to us in the night… speak to us when we are tired… speak to us in sorrow, and in joy… Speak, Lord, for your servants are listening… In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sermon: On being accepted (Baptism of our Lord, Jan. 11, 2015)

Baptism of our Lord (B)

January 11, 2014

Mark 1:4-11

            If you were here last week, you received a new “Star Gift.” We did the same thing last year. This is an Epiphany exercise meant to carry you through the year, an opportunity to notice and focus on the gifts that God has already given to you. So each person pulled a colored star from the offering plate that had one of God’s gift written on it: gifts like assurance, hope, peace, listening, singing, laughter, and so on. I suggested you put that star someplace where you will see it every day, so that you will be reminded every day to look for that gift, and see how God is making God’s self known to you through that gift. (If you weren’t here and want to participate in this year-long exercise, there are more stars, so feel free to grab one this week!)

            Some people, I know, really liked the gift they got. But I also got some complaints from people about wanting to trade in their star for a different one. I admit to you that I was one who

I include this with much sarcasm.

wanted to trade mine in. The gift I drew was acceptance. The first emotion I felt about it was fear. When I thought of acceptance, I thought about how often we have to accept things we don’t want to be true. You accept a diagnosis, a death, a break-up, an undesired outcome. You move through the various stages of grief and finally, hopefully, land on acceptance of your new reality – and while the final product is somewhat freeing, the way there is extremely painful. And it scared me to think of going through that this year because you know what? There are a lot of things I want right now, like, really, really want – I’m not talking about physical things that I could buy, but outcomes, dreams, life goals. And when I saw that so-called gift of acceptance staring back at me from the star, I did not want to face the possibility that I may have to accept not getting those things that I want so deeply, and somehow seeing God in that.

            I know I’m not alone in this. Who would want to accept anything less than their heart’s desire? I think this is why so many of us make New Years resolutions. We know that our lives are not entirely as they should be, and that there is room in us for growth. We know that our relationship with God could be better, that we often overlook the gifts we have in our lives, that we can be lazy, or that we can be workaholics, or that we can participate in activities that do not build up others or ourselves. There is a gap between who we are, and who we think we should be, and we fear that if someone else perceives that gap, we might not be accepted. Or maybe worse, we might not be able to accept ourselves. Negative self-talk is some of the most destructive stuff we can engage in. So we try to take matters into our own hands and “fix” ourselves, engaging in New Years resolutions and goal-setting in an effort to become better so that we can more easily accept ourselves as worthwhile people, and hope that others will be able to do the same. It is certainly a noble effort, and often the resolutions we make are important and healthy ones.

            The problem, of course, with seeking acceptance from others and ourselves by taking on our shortcomings ourselves and hoping that, “This year, I will have the willpower to stick to that diet, to exercise regularly, to floss daily, to read more books,” is that more often than not, we fail. We fall further down than we were in the first place, because not only do we have bad habits, but also when we tried to save ourselves, we failed, so we must be even worse than we thought. Acceptance becomes even harder.

            You can see why I was so adverse to my star gift of acceptance this year. All this and much more ran through my head as I stared down at it. The thought that I had the rest of the day was, “Acceptance seems less like a gift and more like a struggle.”

            But then Monday morning rolled around and I started to study the familiar text of Jesus’

By He Qi

baptism. I love this Sunday when we hear about Jesus’ baptism because it helps us think more deeply about our own baptism. I think that many of us don’t think much or very regularly about our baptism, am I right? I mean, that happened for most of us when we were only babies, so we don’t remember the event itself. It may be significant to us that it happened, but we see it as a once and done event, something that got taken care of when we were young and now we’re good to go. We have the same thing done for our kids – it’s tradition, after all – and that may have been very meaningful, but is it something you think about daily? I doubt it.

            But as we read about Jesus’ baptism, we see that, remember it or not, there is no more important and life-giving event in our whole lives than our baptism. Let me explain. I talked earlier about my fear of my star gift, acceptance. I had pictured it as my ability to accept things that come my way, but of course acceptance goes the other way: we also long to be accepted. I’m sure you can all think of a time in your life when you did not feel accepted – by your peers, by your work place, by your in-laws. For me, it was middle school, when one day I was apparently no longer cool enough to hang with the “in crowd.” I felt it also when I met a former boyfriend’s family who was from the South, and this California girl with a big mouth didn’t quite fit in with the southern politeness of that family, and I didn’t feel accepted.  

Not being accepted can be devastating. I remember well the anguish of 8^th grade, when I longed to know why no one seemed to understand me and why my peers couldn’t just accept me as I

was. Our lives are full of surface affirmation – “likes” on Facebook, certificates and trophies just for participating – but what we really long for is not a huge social network, but a sense of true belonging, the promise of acceptance.

            And that, my friends, is precisely what we receive in our baptism. We see it right here in Jesus’ baptism. Notice two things about what happens here. First of all, God’s words to Jesus as the Holy Spirit descends like a dove onto Jesus are personal and direct: “You are my Son, my beloved, with whom I am well-pleased.” You are. They are the same words God will say to Gracie and Sofie when they are baptized in a moment: “You are God’s beloved. God is well pleased with you.” That is what happens in baptism, you see. We are claimed as God’s beloved, just as we are, accepted and promised that God will never ever let us go.

            The second thing to note is that immediately after this moment of loving acceptance, Jesus is sent out into the desert to be tempted by the devil. That is, he is sent out into the world, where struggle and temptation and pain and suffering are real. But he goes out still wet with the promise of baptism: “You are my beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” Jesus’ baptism begins his ministry, but it also carries him through it. The promise of God’s love, God’s care, God’s delight, follows him on his journey through life.

            And we were given the assurance of this promise in our own baptism, as well. It is a promise that God will never abandon us; through trials and dangers, through temptation, loneliness, and fear, God continues to promise us eternal love and acceptance, even when we struggle to love and accept ourselves. Wherever we may go, and whatever we may do or have done, God does and will continue to love us, hold onto us, and accept us. That is a gift worth remembering every single day of our lives.

            Let us pray… God of love and acceptance, we know that we often fall short, and try as we might to fix things, we still struggle sometimes to love and accept ourselves. Help us to remember that in our baptism, you promised to love and accept us on that day and everyday thereafter, and help us live into that promise with joy. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen. 

The gift of acceptance

This past Sunday, my congregations once again did "Star Gifts" - an exercise in noticing what gifts God has already given us. Each person was given a paper star with one of God's gifts on it, and charged with the task of noticing how, through that gift, God is made manifest in their lives.

Last year, I was given the gift of time. It was a great gift for me to notice, and noticing it in fact helped me to make positive changes in my life, changes which still benefit me. It was a nice, concrete gift to focus on, very accessible. I enjoyed it.

This year, I got the gift of acceptance. And the first emotion I felt about it was fear. "Huh," I said, then quickly hid it so no one else could see.

Why did I feel fear? Because my first thought about acceptance is that it is required when you are faced with something you don't want to happen, and you have to accept it. As in, it is the final stage of grief (not that I have ever experienced grief as linear, but you understand what I mean). And you know, there are a lot of things I want right now, like really, really want, more deeply than I have ever wanted before, and I do not want to accept that I will for some reason not get them. The possibility of having to experience acceptance in anything more than a trivial way this year frankly terrifies me.

But today, I started thinking about acceptance a little more broadly. First, I thought of acceptance in terms of call. I accepted a call to ministry about nine years ago. Three and a half years ago I accepted a call to serve Bethlehem and St. Martin Lutheran Churches. These were big decisions, but they weren't all that hard for me, and they were far more life-giving than scary. I felt a healthy amount of anxiety, yes, but not fear. In these cases, acceptance was a good thing.

Then I started thinking about it in terms of generosity. The year I spent as a volunteer in Slovakia (a Young Adult in Global Mission), I thought I was there to serve, but instead I found that I relied heavily on the generosity of others. As it turned out, some of the best "giving" I did was instead graciously receiving - receiving meals, receiving care, receiving a free room to live in. Being willing to receive, or to accept, a gift from someone else is sometimes the most generous thing you can do. Being willing to accept requires a level of vulnerability, an ability to admit I can't do this alone, and I depend on the love and care of others. Acceptance.

Then I started thinking about it in terms of being accepted. There was a time in my early teens when I suddenly no longer felt accepted by my peers, and it was some of my most difficult years. Though I floated between social groups and people didn't mind my being around (and maybe even liked it - I may have a negatively skewed perception of this time), I didn't feel particularly accepted into any one friend group. I didn't feel I truly belonged anywhere.

Except in my church youth group. What a gift it was to be a part of that group, to be with them and be able to be fully myself, and to be loved and accepted for that. They loved me and held me through my cancer treatments. When we went to the western states youth gathering in the midst of my chemo treatments, and I had to wear hats and bandanas to hide my bald head, they all brought hats and bandanas to hide their own hair under, so I wouldn't be alone. In that group, I truly felt the gift of acceptance.

I guess it isn't such a terrifying gift after all.

Star gifts 2.0 (Epiphany reflections)

Epiphany A

January 4, 2013

(Please note: for further background on this activity, read this.) 

  

            If you were here at church last year on January 5, you will remember that it was the day we passed out “star gifts.” This was an exercise in living out the promise of Epiphany – a day on which

we celebrate the manifestation of God in our lives. Epiphany falls on January 6, and in the Christmas story, it is the day the magi arrived to greet Jesus, bearing gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. But before they gave those gifts, of course, the magi had first received – received the gift of God through Christ; their giving was in gratitude and praise of that gift. Still today, we receive all kinds of gifts from God – our family, friends, homes, etc., but even more abundantly, more abstract gifts like love, forgiveness, mercy, prayer, peace, truth…

            But we don’t always notice these gifts, do we? They are ignored, or taken for granted, or misunderstood. And that is why last year we handed out “star gifts.” Each person received a paper star with one of these gifts written on it, and then the charge to consider for the upcoming year how God has been and is being made manifest in this gift. It was not a charge to use that gift, necessarily, though you certainly may have. Rather, you were asked to notice how you have already received it, how God has already been made known through it, and how God continues to be made known through it in our daily lives. And, last year I warned you that I would ask you to share some of your reflections today with the congregation. So, the day has come for you to share with one another your star gift experience.

            I’ll go first. The gift I drew last year was TIME. This could not have been more perfect for me, as I am always running around like a crazy person and frequently hear myself saying, “I’m too busy,” or, “I don’t have enough time.” That is often what we do with God’s gifts – we view them not as abundance, but as scarcity. We skip right over gratitude for what we have, and focus instead on how there is never enough of it. So this year, to help myself get over viewing the gift of time as scarce instead of abundant, I made a conscious effort to avoid saying, “I’m busy,” and whenever I was in a hurry to get somewhere, I said to myself, “Johanna, you have time.” I wasn’t perfect in this

effort. But whenever I did remember to do it, I could almost feel myself relax, as I accepted that God gave me just as much time as anyone else, and I was the one responsible for stewarding it and using it to God’s glory. That sometimes meant I was late to a meeting, because I had spent a little extra time in prayer that morning. It sometimes meant I didn’t get everything done that I intended because instead I took seriously God’s command to take a Sabbath – time for rest. An evaluation of how I was spending my time also helped me see that I wasn’t always using it wisely, in ways that would please God. So last year I reconsidered my schedule, allowing more time in my day for exercise, prayer, and quality time with my husband. In these small efforts, I could feel God’s pleasure, even as I could feel my heart and body growing stronger instead of more weary.

            That’s my experience. How about you? Who would like to share about their star gift?

[Leave time for sharing. Close with this:]

            Thank you, everyone, for sharing. I hope that even if you didn’t share today, that you will share with someone privately, and that you found this exercise fruitful… because we’re going to do it again! I’d like to invite the ushers to bring forward the offering plates. Usually we put something into the offering plate (and we still will do that later!), but today, we are first going to take something from the plate, to receive God’s gifts for us. Don’t look first – just draw! If someone isn’t here and you think they’d benefit from this, draw one for them, too, if you like.

            As humans, we yearn for tangible, clear signs of God’s presence. But so often we are so overwhelmed by life that we fail to see those signs even when they are right in front of us. My hope is that this will help to focus your awareness of God’s gifts in your life.

            Anyone want to share what gift they drew this year?

Epiphany is a time to celebrate God’s presence breaking into the darkness and chaos of life and shining as a light in the darkness. My prayer for us this year is that we would be reminded at every turn of our generous, giving God.

            Let us pray… Gracious God, we give you thanks for your many gifts. Help us to notice and not to ignore, to embrace and not to disregard, and in this effort, to become ever closer to you. In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.