Speak Softly

Remember when you were in school and the teacher wanted to get you to pay attention?  She didn't shout over the classroom noise.  Instead, she spoke in a quiet voice causing the room to settle down and listen.  Our world continues to be so noisy.  Where is that quiet voice speaking to us?

In an earlier reflection, I talked about listening to that quiet voice that calls and our resistance to the message.  Again, I want to reflect on one lesson that was revealed to me recently.

A couple weekends ago, we waited in line to get into the Bayfront Blues Fest on a beautiful Saturday morning.  The line was cordoned off by some temporary barriers on either side.  On the outside stood a man shouting about the way to eternal life through Jesus,  and how Jesus died for our sins and that the only way to heaven was through Jesus Christ.  All perfectly good information in my book, but the way it was being delivered was all wrong.  The people in line stood watching this spectacle and shaking their heads and missing the message completely.

What was wrong wasn't the message, but how it was being communicated.  First, the man had placed himself outside the barrier and was shouting at the people on the inside waiting in line.  Wasn't Jesus about getting rid of the barriers that separate us?  Next, he was shouting his message at people.  I never read in the Gospel where Christ shouted at his followers.  Wouldn't it have made more sense to show compassion and love for those waiting in line?  Maybe by offering a cold drink of water or offering to carry their bags. Maybe even a hug or sign that he really cared about those that were waiting.   Finally, the message is one that needs to be spoken softly so that people will want to pay attention to what is being said.

How often do we act in this same manner, trying to shout our message at people from across a barrier (be it physical or emotional).  Life experiences like this can serve to remind us to speak softly!

Walking Home

Footsteps echoing across time, one after another.  Dust rising gently from each footfall.  How wonderful it feels when we know that we are on that last part of the journey and home awaits.  Good and comforting.   A place of refuge.  A place of rest.  Weary bones sag into a comfortable chair while hot sweaty feet cool in the breeze from the lake.  It is good coming home!

Not every walk or hike is like this, but that last part of the journey, knowing that you are past the halfway mark and are on the back half of the walk is always the best part.  Is life like that as well?  I am finding that this part of the journey is becoming more sweet in knowing that the mid-point in life has been reached and now I am walking home.  Is it the destination that I long for, or is it that I am just becoming more comfortable with the road that I am on?

The bible teaches us to set our minds on things of heaven, not things of earth.  I find that hard when I am still earthbound and still human.  Just this week I heard a comment that one can be so heavenly minded that he is of no earthly use.  That is not where I want to be, nor how I want to be remembered.  I want to be the one who washes the dusty feet of the weary traveler and one who provides refuge and rest.  Is that a heavenly goal or one that is grounded in an earthly existence.

What I have found on this journey is that it is hard enough without carrying a bag full of rocks of resentment, bricks of anger and shouldering the burden of excessive fears.  Somewhere along the first part of the journey I started picking them up and putting them in my backpack.  I wanted to keep them hidden so that others couldn't see the load I was carrying.  Once revealed, they could then be discarded and the burden lightened.  Now I have to be ever vigilant not to pick them up again.

I am certainly not ready for the journey to end as I know that there is much more wonder and splendor to behold, but it is still good to know that I am walking home!

Travel well!