And this is the real gift of Reading Between the Lines – the deep sharing, the sense of trust and respect for one another, the willingness to be vulnerable, the lived wisdom, the openness to be changed. The welcome to newcomers and the sense of connection that is palpable even on Zoom.

Although many things have changed , the focus remains the same, the care of the altar as that remains the center of our services.

“The Christian religion asks us to put our trust not in ideas, and certainly not in ideologies, but in a God Who was vulnerable enough to become human and die, and Who desires to be present to us in our ordinary circumstances.”

So may we, in this life
trust

to those elements
we have yet to see

or imagine,
and look for the true

shape of our own self,
by forming it well

to the great
intangibles about us.

My path to God through my child within is uncomplicated and sweet, a lovely time of innocence with moments of complete TRUST.

Trust is the foundation of any relationship.

Somewhere between the pandemic and politics, I lost trust. Somewhere between the gun and racial violence, I lost trust. And somewhere between the remarkable difference the lockdowns have made on the natural world and so very, very much more, I will share that I have lost trust. Ugh.

How was I to get through these times, what was I to learn or what could I practice? I wanted to listen to God.

But the good news is that then there is new life. Wildflowers bloom again… They’re both such surprises. Wildflowers stop you in your hiking tracks. You want to savor the colors and scents, let them breathe you in, let yourself be amazed. And bulbs that grow in the cold rocky dirt remind us that no one is lost.

Remember him who himself remembers us as he promised to remember the thief who died beside him. To have faith is to remember and wait, and to wait in hope is to have what we hope for already begin to come true in us through our hoping. Praise him.

“Hope has an astonishing resilience and strength. Its very persistence in our hearts indicates that it is not a tonic for wishful thinkers but the ground on which realists stand.”

Hope seems to me to be the basis of most spiritual life. I remember my grandmother kneeling with me at my bedside when I was 3 or 4, and teaching me that I could talk to God.

Teach us God, to turn our panic into patience,
And our fear into acts of kindness and support.
Open the eyes of those who are ignoring warnings that can and will save lives.
Help each one of us to do our part to end this virus

Desmond Tutu once said “ Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness.”

We need contemplative practices to loosen our egoic attachment to certainty and retrain our minds to understand the wisdom of paradox.

Was I resting and waiting patiently for the Lord? Did I forsake wrath? Exhilarating questions for which I still seek answers. I do know that I continued my prayers for dedication and my recovery was swifter than expected.

Now, more than ever, we need to trust and accept that everything will unfold exactly as it is supposed to, when it is supposed to.

But wait – the topic is patience? So perfect for me! I have struggled with patience, or the lack thereof, for years. What a blessing to be prompted to ponder it further in order to share my personal experience and thoughts.

At the very first Sunday, I felt at home, a slightly different home than I had had before, but one where God’s patience welcomed me.

The world didn’t take notice. Only those whom he called by name, with whom he broke bread, and to whom he spoke words of peace were aware of what happened. Still, it was this hidden event that freed humanity from the shackles of death.