My Quilt

One of my students passed this story on to me. The original author is unknown. (Thanks Becca.)

As I faced my Maker at the last judgement, I knelt before the Lord along with all the other souls. Before each of us laid our lives like the squares of a quilt in many piles. An angel sat before each of us sewing our quilt squares together into a tapestry that was our life.

As my angel took each piece of cloth off the pile, I noticed how ragged and empty each of my squares were. They were filled with giant holes. Each square was labeled with a part of my life that had been difficult. Many were the challenges and temptations I was faced with in everyday life. The hardships that I had endured were the largest holes of all.

I glanced around me. Nobody else had such squares. Other than a tiny hole here and there, the other tapestries were filled with rich color and the bright hues of worldly fortune. I gazed upon my own life and was disheartened. My angel continued sewing the ragged pieces of cloth together, threadbare and empty, like binding air.

Finally the time came when each life was to be displayed, held up to the light, the scrutiny of truth. The others rose, each in turn, holding up their tapestries. So filled their lives had been. My angel looked upon me, and nodded for me to rise.

My gaze dropped to the ground in shame. I had not had all the earthy fortunes. I had love in my life, and laughter. But there had also been trials of illness, and death, and false accusations that took from me my world as I knew it. I had to start over many times. I often struggled with the temptation to quit, only to somehow muster the strength to pick up and begin again. I spent many nights on my knees in prayer, asking for help and guidance in my life. I had often been held up to ridicule, which I endured painfully, each time offering it up to the Father in hopes that I would not melt within my skin beneath the judgmental gaze of those who unfairly judged me.

And now, I had to face the truth. My life was what it was, and I had to accept it for what it was. I rose and slowly lifted the combined squares of my life to the light. An awe-filled gasp filled the air. I gazed around at the others who stared at me with wide eyes. Then, I looked upon the tapestry before me. Light flooded the many holes, creating an image, the face of Christ.

Then our Lord stood before me with warmth and love in His eyes. He said, “Every time you gave over your life to Me, it became My life, My hardships, and My struggles. Each point of light in your life is when you stepped aside and let Me shine through, until there was more of Me than there was of you.”

May all our quilts be threadbare and worn, allowing Christ to shine through.

New Archive Structure

I have reorganized my archive structure. This should be of little concern for most visitors. Through the miracle of Apache’s htaccess file and the redirect directive, all the old links prior to this date have been mapped to their new locations, i.e. old links should not break! Any entry posted after this date will not work under the old archive structure.

(more…)

Is It Really You?

Jonya had to go out of town. Her dad had died. She had to help her sister with the funeral arrangements and settle his estate. Her husband and three-year old son were going to stay behind at home. It would be the first time Jonya and her son would be separated since his birth.

After two weeks, she flew back home. Her husband and son were waiting at the airport when she disembarked from the plane. She was greeted with a bunch of hugs and kisses. The father and son were delighted to have Mommy back home.

As Jonya carried her son down the long corridor back to the main terminal building, her son placed both of his tiny little hands on her cheeks and turned her face to his. He looked straight into her eyes and asked, “Is it really you?”

A tear came to Jonya�s eye as she nodded her reply, “Yes it is.”

The above story was shared during a meditation at a recent retreat about the glances of Jesus. Jesus looked into the eyes of many people. He looked at the rich man who asked how to get into heaven. The rich man turned his eyes away from Jesus when he heard the answer. Jesus looked into the eyes of Judas, but Judas could not see himself. Judas thought that he was beyond help with his sins. Jesus looked into the eyes of Peter. Peter, well, we know Peter’s story. The final point of the meditation was one question—what are you going to do when Jesus looks at you?

An image came to me of Jesus holding my face in both of his hands, looking deeply into my eyes, and asking me, “Is it really you?”

I hope with all my heart and soul that I can reply, “Yes. It’s me Lord. Here I am.”

You Talk Too Much

I usually do not remember my dreams, but I had a very vivid dream about two weeks ago.

It was a bright, sunny day with deep azure skies sparsely dotted with small puffs of white cottony clouds. I was walking with a friend down a wide dirt path next to a grove of tall pine trees on one side and a field of green grass on the other. I do not remember who the friend was, but I do remember God was walking with us. God was not some dark, ominous shadow, or even a bright, luminous light. He was invisible. I could not see Him, but I knew He was there. I could feel His presence. He walked along right behind my friend and me.

Unlike my usual character, I was talking a mile a minute. Blah, blah, blah� I sounded like a chatty Kathy doll. After walking for awhile, God leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “You talk too much Mark.” I turned my head, looked at God, and nodded yes in agreement. I was quiet the rest of the walk, soaking in the scenery and the company of my friend and God.

I have heard many people say that God is in the silence. So, about last summer, I started to cut out some of the noise in my life. I usually turn off the radio in the car if I am by myself. I do not turn the TV on as soon as I get home or wake up in the morning. I do not dread waiting in line or the doctor’s office. At these times, and many others throughout the day, I usually pray. Actually, it might be better described as a conversation with God. In the course of all the thinking that I do within a day, on the side, I have developed this sense of awareness that God is always there, always listening in. It is one of my attempts to recognize that God is every where I go. It is part of my attempt to pray unceasingly.

This dream has made me take notice that I have learned to substitute external noise with internal noise, the noise of my own loud thinking. I know that am constantly thinking. My mind is always working on something. I have always been that way, but now it seems more prominent with the reduction of external noise.

This dream has also pointed out to me is that now I am ready to move to the next level of silence—internal silence. In some very small ways, I have started to cultivate this internal silence at certain moments of the day. I am not afraid of it. It feels inviting, warm, and comfortable. It is peaceful. God is there. Time to quit dabbling and get really serious about meditative prayer.

The Shepherd and the Wild Sheep

The Good Shepherd with a lamb on his shoulders

At a recent retreat, Fr. Scott talked about the traditions of the shepherds in old Israel at the time of Jesus.

It was dangerous for a sheep to wonder off from the flock. The sheep could easily get lost, fall off a cliff, or get eaten by a predator like a wolf. If a shepherd had a particular �wild� or �wondering� sheep, one that never stayed put with the flock, the shepherd would grab one of its hind legs in both hands, and snap the leg bone. The shepherd would then bandage and splint the leg for it to heal. Since the newly broken leg was very tender, the shepherd would hoist the sheep up onto his shoulders and carry the sheep around until the leg mended. After the leg healed, the once wild and wondering sheep would always stay close to the shepherd, and never stray again from the flock.

And so, it is in our woundedness, in our brokenness, that we are closest to God.