Paying Attention: Finding God in the Ordinary

By Rollie Johnson

Most of us race through our days at a hectic and frantic pace oblivious to the Godly and divine in our midst. We are tuned in to the latest electronic gizmos and out of tune with the holy and sacred that moves in and around us throughout our days. Journey with Author Rollie Johnson who has a most unique gift for observing and sensing, and recognizing Godly movements and spiritual truths in our ordinary day to day lives. His observations and unique insights from the natural world of creation and ordinary encounters will inspire you to new depths of trust and intimacy in your walk with God.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Jan 10, 2017
• ISBN: 9781512768985

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Copyright © 2017 Rollie Johnson.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This book is a work of non-fiction. Unless otherwise noted, the author and the publisher make no explicit guarantees as to the accuracy of the information contained in this book and in some cases, names of people and places have been altered to protect their privacy.

All Photos by Rollie Johnson

WestBow Press

A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

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Bloomington, IN 47403

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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ISBN: 978-1-5127-6899-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5127-6900-5 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5127-6898-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016921000

WestBow Press rev. date: 01/09/2017

Contents

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Eagles

Act In Spite of

Alex

All Your Questions Answered

Alone Together

Anastasio

Anxiety

Apple Pie

Aroma

Arrowheads

Awkward Day

Badlands

Bald Eagle Over the Bowler

A Baptism Sacred Moment

Beaver

Beyond The Veil

Big Dipper

Born Again

Both Of Us

Broken Guitar Strings

Bulldozers on My Brain

Buy Back

BWCA Compass

Calling Out

Camouflage Christians

Canoe Shack

Cat, Coyote, Hawk

Change

Chasing Rainbows

Chipmunk

Chosen

Chubby Squirrels

Close Encounters

Cold Run

Clunk, Clunk Badunk

Co-Creators

Compass Distraction

Conduits of Grace

Contrasts

Cooper’s Hawk

Craig’s Garden

The Crying Girl

Damaged Canoe

Death Row

Dentist

Devil’s Tower

Dis-Gratitude

Drum Beat

Dry Bones

Eagle Visit

Empty Nest

Encouragement Stranger on A Run

Encouragement

Enough

Fallow Times

The Fawn

FEAR

Ferns

Fire Heat Light

Follow the Leader

Food for the Deer

Franchise Player

Fred

Get Real

God Sandwich

God’s Timing

Goldilocks

Good, Bad and Ugly

Grace Interrupts

Grace Visit

Grizz Tracks

Ground Zero

Guilty

Hands

Harvey

Hermitage

Holy Water

Hungry For Real Food

I’m So Excited

Invisible Tracks

Itasca Hike

Jabez Blessings

Journey

Knife River Flint

Knuckleheads

Laughter

Leading From the Middle

Lessons From a Squirrel

Liberty Tax Guy

Look up and Left

Lone Ranger Turkey

Love Carrier

Magdalena

Marathon Reflections

Mature Forest

Meteor

Milkweed

Milkweed Seed

Milton

Montana Canoe

Moose

Morrie

Muddy Mess

My Anxious Imaginations

My Old Canoe

Mystery Awe And Wonder

Mystery

Nemadji River Wait

Nala

New Bow

New Neighbors

Noise and Commotion

One More Hunt

Ordinary Otters

Out of The Closet

Oxy Moron

Paddling in the Dark

Paying Attention

Pelican

Pharisee

Pine Box

Poison Ivy

Poplar Tree

Praise of Symphony

Prairie Storm II

Prairie Storm

Quilt & Woman

Raw Material

Red River

Red River of the North

Repairman

Rest

Ruminate

Sacred and Holy Places

Sacred Space

Sacred Storm

Saw Whet Owl

Saying Yes

Seeds of Hate

Sewing by Faith

Shane and Bike

Shane with a Bow

The Shop

Showing Up Owl

Silence and Solitude

Silence and Solitude Be still

Silence of the North

Simple Acts

Smiling Girl

Snake

Snow Cave

Snow Run

Son Dogs

Sounds Of Silence

Spider Web

Squirrel in the Attic

Stone Tool

Super Moon

Tarantula

Taught and Caught

Temporary and Permanent

The Buck

The Bumpy Woman

The Drone and the Din

The Killing Fields

The Owl

The Pygmy

The Sanctuary

The Shack

The Sky

The Tempest

The Veteran

The Wind

The Window and the Mirror

Thieves in the Night

Thin Places

Thistle Down

Thistle: The Gospel According to the Driveway

Three Squirrels

Student Again

Toenails

Tracks in the Snow

Treadmill

Trees in the Storm

Trumpeter Swans

Turbulence

Turkey Ruse

Turkeys

Unexpected Grace

Waiting

White Belt

Winter Retreat

Winters Morn on the Red

Winter’s Night Hike

Winters Wanderings

Wisdom

Whissshh

Wolves

Woodpecker

Wood Ticks

About the Author

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to my mother Beverly Johnson. Her bountiful energy, enthusiasm and zest for life were contagious to all who crossed her path. She had the incredible ability to see beneath the surface of people and draw out their hidden talents and abilities. She continued to encourage me to take risks and expand my horizons. Her endless belief in me, her enduring love and deep faith in God live on through these writings.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I wish to express my deepest gratitude to Mariana Malm who was my steadfast editor, encourager and cheerleader throughout this process of writing my first book. Her endless patience, persistence, and gentle way of correcting, critiquing and suggesting alternatives helped me grow as a writer. Thank you for believing in me and for all your subtle and persistent nudging to get published!

I could not have begun this process without the benevolent and generous support of Dorrie Liffrig and Mary Jean Dehne. You were the spark that gave ignition to this project. Your ongoing friendship, affirmation, and continued blessings have helped me see this through to its completion. Thank you for your thousand acts of gratitude, affirmation and friendship.

The many folks at First Lutheran Church in Fargo, North Dakota who continued to encourage me through words and actions of gratitude and appreciation.

It is difficult to express the depth of my gratitude to Brad Williams who has been a long-time friend, mentor and role model to me.

I thank God that He placed you in my life to help bring this project to full fruition. Thank you for your incredibly gracious and generous support, and belief in me and this ministry.

EAGLES

Steamy breaths rose quietly in the still Thanksgiving-morning air, backlit by brilliant sunshine being birthed on the eastern horizon. Bodies jumped up and down to create warmth. A festive atmosphere filled the street, and not even the twelve-below-zero temperature could lower the enthusiasm and eagerness of the four hundred plus runners of all shapes, sizes, and ages gathered for the start of the Huffing for Stuffin 5k. All of us were covered from head to toe with our warmest running-gear, gloves, mittens, and face masks. Laughter, high fives, and smiles permeated the crowd of fellow crazies who were here to celebrate life and pre-burn some turkey-day calories. Bouncing up and down at my side were my eldest daughter, Karina, and ten-year-old son, Shane. This would be Shane’s first crack at running a full three miles. His nervous anticipation was palpable.

The bull-horn sounded the start of the race, and the large, steaming amoeba began to move as one up the street. It felt good to be alive and moving on such a spectacularly beautiful morning. It felt good to choose health and wellness. It also felt good to choose to embrace and celebrate life by moving in and through the cold rather than cursing it from a sofa. Good and wonderful people of all makes huffed and puffed along the route giving Attaboys and "You can do its!" to friends and strangers alike. Karina and I urged, coaxed, and cajoled Shane throughout our run, and we employed a variety of distracting thoughts and encouragements to spur him on. It worked, for as we rounded the final bend of the river trail, and gained sight of the finish line several hundred yards ahead, he kicked in the afterburners and sprinted ahead of us to finish his first ever 5k. Hugs and high fives ensued as we celebrated his and others’ personal victories. What a fantastic beginning to a Thanksgiving morn.

Upon our arrival home Karina boldly declared that she and I needed more of a work-out, so off we went running to log in another four miles at a more adult pace. As we headed west on Wall Street, and neared the County 20 bridge, I mentioned to Karina that I’d bet we’d see a bald eagle perched to the north overlooking the river. We have frequently seen them perched there this time of year as the water is still normally open.

As our pounding feet rhythmically crunched the snow covering the bridge, we looked off to our right and-sure enough-there he was! Stoic and stolid, suspended high in a now naked oak tree, he stood sentinel over his river domain. I offered a salute as I always do, and for a few brief passing moments we enjoyed the grandeur of his majestic presence.

We continued on our way, looping south along our favorite bike path that snakes along the river. As we neared the southern-most bend of the river path, I again mentioned to Karina, Bet we see another eagle on the tip of this river bend! She nodded in agreement as we huffed and puffed our way down the path.

Sure enough, as the river bend came into view, there was another bald eagle suspended high in a tree on the opposite river bank! Wow, what an awesome blessing to have two up-close-and-personal encounters with eagles on one run. We enjoyed this encounter a bit longer as we ran the bend of the river around him. And then, just as we turned north, there before us were two more bald eagles poised side by side, balanced on a branch above the river! Four bald eagles on one run! Now that is an awesome beginning to a Thanksgiving morning!

When we stay locked inside our own little world, our little home, or our little comfort zone and never venture out, we’ll never experience a magnificent, crystal-clear winter’s morn,-or get-up-close-and-personal with four bald eagles. We’ll never meet some awesome and wonderful people, nor ever accomplish our first 5k which we’d previously thought was impossible. Too cold, too scary, too hard, too much work, too much hassle… the excuses and inner defenses are endless.

But we who are followers of Jesus ought to be the ones who boldly dare to step out bravely into the unknown and new. After all, we are a completely loved and forgiven people. Our past failures and mistakes are forgiven and our future secured,-so why not live in the here and now with courage, passion and enthusiasm for growth, learning, and adventure! Or as T.S. Elliot declares:

Only those that risk going too far, can ever fully understand how far they can go!

My challenge to you this advent: Get out, do something you’re afraid of or that makes you uncomfortable, or do something you’ve always dreamed of but never acted on. You’ll be surprised by what God has waiting for you- just beyond the circle of your little comfort zone!

Advent: L adventus

1. The coming of Christ at the Incarnation

Adventure: L adventus

1. A risky undertaking of unknown outcome.

2. An exciting or remarkable experience

I can do all things in Christ who gives me strength! Philippians 4:13

… and Peter out of the boat, and walked on the water and came towards Jesus. Matt. 14:29

So Peter… walked on water towards Jesus. But when he looked around at the high waves, he was terrified and began to sink… Matt. 14: 29-30

I tell you the truth, if your faith is as big as even a tiny mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there’ and it will move. All things will be possible for you! Matthew 17:20-21

For nothing is impossible with God.

Luke 1:37

Jesus replied, " what is impossible with men, is possible with God." Luke 18:27

ACT IN SPITE OF

We were walking the dirt trail from our campsite to the dining hall for breakfast. The mile-long hike each way was invigorating under clear blue skies and a clean, fresh breeze as we wandered through friendly pine, poplar, and birch. I was near the rear of the line as quiet banter and laughter chattered throughout our group. I paused mid-stride, as I’d thought I’d heard whimpering and sniffles. Sure enough, as I turned around, one of our young gals was welling up with tears, her eyes red as she marched onward with her face towards the ground. Our old friend fear had paid a visit and contorted her face. When I queried as to what was up, she replied through wet whimpers- "I’m totally freaked out about being alone on Solo."

Her tears and verbalizations spoke out loud what many others in the group were feeling. They were soon to be dropped off in the woods to spend thirty-six hours alone. Bears, bogeymen, Bigfoot, and bad-guys were burrowing their way into the thought processes of each person in anxious anticipation of what lay ahead. To her credit, she acted in spite of her fears and went on to successfully complete her solo where she hunkered down with her devotional journal to immerse herself in praying, Scripture reading, and guided journal writing. She later reported to me, "When I did all this, I settled down, got more peace and eventually realized the darkness and the woods were no big deal."

The young man, in his early thirties, stood at the base of the rock-climbing tower- hands trembling, awaiting his turn to attempt climbing to the top. The same face of fear showed up in his eyes. He’s a tough guy by trade- he carries a pistol for his daily work, yet here at the bottom of the thirty-foot tower, the fear of heights, falling, and failing made him anxious and afraid. When I had asked him why he came on this SOLO trip, he’d commented that his life had grown stale, he’d quit taking risks, and he needed to get out of his normal comfort zones to learn and grow in his life and faith. To his credit, he too acted in spite of his fears and anxieties and pushed through to climb and rappel down successfully several times. The sense of joy and pride for facing and overcoming his circumstances showed visibly in his demeanor.

A successful young college grad breezed through the initial yet difficult high ropes course. He had easily climbed the wobbling and wiggly steel ladder, walked across the log suspended thirty-five feet in the air, and balanced his way across a half-inch cable to the crow’s nest. He was then safely clipped in for the final obstacle- the zip-line. By far the easiest physical challenge, the zip-line required him to simply jump off the platform into space and take a free-ride five hundred feet down the cable. Exhilarating to be sure! Terrifying to be certain! So here he remained, seated with his legs dangling over the edge, clipped in, overlooking the deep valley below and frozen by the same ugly face of fear. He had become immobilized by fear and anxiety. Fear of falling, failing, dying, abandonment and maybe much more.

For twenty-five minutes, he sat as group members cheered, encouraged, prodded, praised, and prayed. To take this leap of faith was a terrifying decision and a gigantic act of trust. To his credit, he finally acted in spite of his fears and jumped off. His face revealed pure joy at overcoming and facing his fear as he sped down the zip line.

I am no stranger to fear and anxiety. They seem to have become life-long companions on my journey of life and faith. They have been at times both terrifying and powerful influences who have made my world shrink. But, I know of One who is more powerful than they. When fear and anxiety are revealed for whom they are by the light of Christ through prayer and Scripture, and then by acting in-spite of- they dissolve like the illusion and shadowy apparitions that they are

May we act in spite of, and move in faith towards power, love, and self-discipline!

Rollie J.

Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified, do not be discouraged. I the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go! Joshua 1:9

For God did not give us a spirit of fear or timidity, but instead He gave us a spirit of power, love and self-discipline. 2 Timothy 1:7

ALEX

From my seat in the front row, I glanced upward towards the front and noticed my adorable little six year old niece Alexa sobbing uncontrollably. Looking right, to the line-up of grey-suited men, I could see my nine year old son Shane. He, too, was wiping tears from his reddened eyes. He tried, but he could not quit crying. Little Alexa was a flower girl and Shane a groomsman in the now almost completed wedding of my eldest daughter, Karina.

It had been a rollercoaster ride of emotions this past half hour. Walking Karina down the aisle I held back my own tears. Feeling pure joy and celebration mixed with a strong dose of melancholy as we were closing a special twenty-three year chapter of our lives. Gladly, I released her into the arms of her awaiting husband-to-be, whom I had come love and respect. My prayers had been answered in this young man Taylor, a man of strong character, integrity, positivity, adventure and faith.

Having finished my duties of preaching and singing, I took my seat alongside my wife to enjoy the rest of the ceremony. As I pondered the source of the tears in Alexa’s and Shane’s eyes, I noticed others, too were crying. A touching moment as the bride took a Kleenex and gently wiped her sister and maid of honor, Marissa’s tears from her cheeks. Once again, I pondered, and then had an ah ha moment. All the tears now made sense. It was the soul-piercing, haunting and heart-penetrating music emanating from Alex’s violin. I’d witnessed this phenomenon dozens of times before.

Alex and I have a long history together. He grew up in my youth group, played in our worship band for years and we have participated in dozens of weddings and funerals together over the years. I have a deep love and affection for Alex having walked alongside him through many of the ups and downs, trials and tribulations, triumphs and successes, obstacles and celebrations that life has thrown at us. We appreciate and fully understand our own humanity and imperfections and frequently laugh at our own frailties. We’ve grown to be good friends over all these years, and I smile when he is present. I am grateful when he plays or sings alongside me as any feeble music I offer up will be strengthened, enriched, and enhanced by both his vocals, but more importantly his violin.

Alex rarely reads the music. He certainly can, as his virtuosity demonstrates. But rather, he hears or maybe even feels the music emanating from a much deeper source. Dozens of years of disciplined and diligent practice and performances have honed his skills. He clearly demonstrates what years of hard work, practice and dedication can do when combined with a God given talent and God given passion.

What I was witnessing this day (and have witnessed many times before) was coming from far beyond practice and dedication. His violin had become a channel or vehicle for the sacred and holy. His music was not just notes but rather a holy language of divine unspoken sent from above to pierce the veil and penetrate our souls releasing tears and emotions long locked up and hidden from the world. Truly, Alex’s music was a pure divine gift to all present.

Sometimes God speaks through words. Often times He uses an instrument of His own choosing: the song of a bird, a breath on the wind, a boisterous thunderstorm, a quietly painted sunset, the gentle swishing of waves meeting the shoreline, or the pleasing scent of a blooming flower or clover. Frequently I hear God’s voice in the beauty of music flowing from a source beyond, flowing through Alex’s violin.

May we have ears to listen and hear!

He’s Everything to Me by Ralph Carmicahel

In the stars His handiwork I see, On the wind He speaks with majesty,

Though He ruleth over land and sea,What is that to me?

ALL YOUR QUESTIONS ANSWERED

Spring is good! Even though much of this season has not felt like spring. Virtually every free waking moment, I have tried to spend outside. A little bit of chasing turkeys with my bow, lots of throwing baseballs and playing catch, soccer and basketball with the kids, but more than anything, I’ve been walking the dirt fields looking for Indian artifacts. Rain or shine, wind or cold, it hasn’t mattered. I just love being outdoors wandering and searching for whatever wonderful treasures the earth chooses to reveal. And it has revealed in abundance!

Last week my son Shane, daughter Karina, and her boyfriend Taylor and I threw on the rubber boots, and rain gear to head out into the mud. We were not disappointed. We soon found two separate Indian encampments and we hit the jack-pot. Within ten minutes Shane casually shouted "Got one!" as he wondered over to reveal a beautiful white quartz, inch-and-a-half long, perfectly shaped arrowhead. Minutes later Karina joyfully shouted that she too had struck gold by finding a five inch primitive knife blade made of a reddish rock. By days end I’d found eight of my best arrowheads, several more knife blades, broken arrow- heads, and thumb scrapers. I was higher than a kite with these new found treasures! As a bonus, the sun even came out and made a rare appearance! What a day.

My fascination and passion for Native American culture, history, and living skills runs deep. It’s interesting though, as I find more and more objects- more and more questions continue to surface. I love to gaze across the landscape and imagine what the terrain looked like in ages past. Who were these people? Did they have horses yet, or just dogs? Were they some band of the Sioux, the Objiwa/ Annishinabe, or possibly the Assiniboines from the north? Was this a semi-permanent camp or simply a seasonal buffalo hunting camp? How long had they used this location? And as I touch and feel a beautiful arrowhead in my fingers, I ponder- did this arrowhead ever pierce the heart of a buffalo, elk, or bear, or possibly the heart of an enemy? But these are simply the simple questions.

My bigger questions ask- How do these peoples fit into God’s plan, His bigger world view? After all, God is The Creator of all life. Not just some of it. Not just blond-haired, blue-eyed, Scandinavian Lutherans. If I believe, as I do, in John 1: In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through Him All things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. Then I have to believe that the God I believe in, is also the God who made these Native Americans. Modern theorists hypothesize that Native Americans have been populating this continent for over 12,000 years. While I’m certainly no paleontologist nor anthropologist, I’m guessing the artifacts we were finding were at least 500 to 1,500 years old. Certainly, these artifacts were pre-European contact for this neck of the woods.

Today in our staff meeting our Senior Pastor Corey led us in a lively and thoughtful discussion based on the bold and arrogant statement Jesus makes in John 14:6; " I am the way, the truth and the life, No One comes to the father except through me. Sometimes called the Scandal of Particularity" because Jesus declares there is only one way, one very narrow gate, one very narrow road to salvation-and that is, Jesus.

So today, I sit with my questions. I don’t have answers. I’m certain that I will not have answers to these questions until I pass on to the next life. I’m learning to know that sometimes it’s okay to live with the questions, and not have all the answers. I grow nervous and wary when a person, a denomination, an institution, or a religion has all the answers. I like the church sign board that reads: Come to _________ Church, where all your answers are questioned!

Today I will choose to continue to follow and have faith in God revealed in the person of Jesus Christ. I will find great joy in knowing this world of His is so much bigger, longer, deeper, wider, and more inter-connected than I will ever be able to know or fully comprehend. We all walk this planet for less than a blink of an eye. Thank God for the immense mystery, awe, wonder, and the unknown of this life.

Eph.3:9-11 NRSV

ALONE TOGETHER

In a couple weeks a small group of us head to the big woods of northern Minnesota for our SOLO camp. The evening before each person heads out for this 36 hour alone-time in the woods, we perform a Native American sweat-lodge where we integrate the physical methodologies and practices of the sweat-lodge with our own Christian tools of silence, confession, and multiple forms of prayer. Melon-sized boulders are heated for six hours in an intense oak fueled fire pit until they glow hot orange. Participants stand in silence while the glowing rocks are removed from the fire with a pitch fork and slid into a pit in the center of the sweat-lodge. We crawl into the low roofed lodge on the damp grass, in single file, in a circular manner until all have entered. The flaps are closed. Immediately, a profound, utter darkness and silence envelopes us all. Though you may be sitting with 40 others, you cannot see nor perceive that anyone else is in the lodge. Soon I splash clean fresh water on the glowing rocks and they instantly hiss back with a powerful and hot steam that fills the lodge with warmth and moisture. After a short wait, I sprinkle sage, sweet-grass, and cedar over the rocks which permeates the thick humid air with a pleasing sweat aroma that cleanses our insides with each thick breath. Quietly, I invite all to pray silently as I lead them through a variety of prayers- to confess our wrong doings and sins, to pray for our families and loved ones, to pray for our church and its leaders, to pray for courage to live a life of Godly purpose and action, to pray for the power to forgive those who have wronged us, to pray for friends and coworkers and teammates who may not know God, to pray for personal wisdom and direction for how to walk more closely in our relationship with Christ. We close our deeply spiritual time with the gentle reverberation of the Lord’s Prayer shared in unison. We leave the steamy warmth of the lodge into the clean cool air with our bodies, minds, and spirits almost vibrating, feeling refreshed, renewed, and fully cleansed.

The sweat lodge is beautiful analogy to our own Christian faith journey. We come to the lodge alone separately, yet together in community much as we do when we gather for worship. We remain alone in our own individual darkness. Just as we are, naked (swimsuit) before the Lord, yet we are not alone as others sit in very close proximity in their own dark silence before the Lord. In the darkened lodge the hot steam purges our physical bodies of dirt, grime, and impurities through the sweating process while our mind and spirit is purged by the prayers of confession and renewal. The parallels are remarkable and noteworthy.

Our Christian faith journey is one of both aloneness and community. In order to live a healthy and whole faith life there must be both: times of solitude, silence and quiet, balanced by times of community and togetherness. One without the other creates imbalance and ill health. For those who live only in the solitude of prayer and meditation, they become no earthly good, and serve only themselves in contemplative navel gazing. For those who live only in community, in movement, action, ministry, and activity they move towards burnout, fatigue, cynicism, and inner emptiness and another form of true loneliness. They try give from what they do not have.

When one spends good quality alone time with our Lord being fed, being renewed, being given Godly wisdom and discernment, with an understanding our own brokenness and giftedness, our sinner/saint qualities, then we then have something real, vital and Godly to give to those in community.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer in Life Together titled one of his chapters; The Day Together and the following chapter; The Day Alone. He writes, Let him who cannot be alone beware of community…. Let him who is not in community beware of being alone….Each by itself has profound pitfalls and perils. One who wants fellowship without solitude plunges into the void of words and feelings, and one who seeks solitude without fellowship perishes in the abyss of vanity, self-infatuation, and despair.

Each Sunday in our Celebration worship service, we pair Quiet time purposely and intentionally with the Lord’s Prayer. We pray silently alone with our Creator right in the midst of hundreds of others. We pray alone together. We then hold hands with those at our sides and we together pray together loud our Lord’s Prayer in community. It is beautiful balance and symmetry.

May you embrace your aloneness together with others.

Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place where he prayed. Mark 1:35

After he had fed the 5,000, Jesus said to his disciples; "Come away with me by yourselves to a quiet place, and get some rest. So they went by themselves in a boat to a solitary place. Mark 6:31-32

ANASTASIO

Sitting in a tiny children’s chair in the small, one-room, concrete school in the village of X-Pom, in the remote heart of Mexico’s Yucatan peninsula, I could hear the rumble of the generator’s motor outside. The generator provided light and electricity in this village that had none. As I was tuning my guitar in preparation for our evening’s group gathering for singing and devotions, a local villager came and sat down in the seat next to me. My initial reaction was mostly negative as he had completely invaded my space. He appeared to be middle aged, with deep dark skin, unkempt hair, disheveled shirt hanging out, with dirty old polyester pants. A pair of dusty plastic jelly sandals hung loosely over his feet. Within seconds I’d judged him as a drunk. What did he think he was doing? Who did he think he was coming in and sitting down in our little meeting space? My quick judgments were both harsh and completely inaccurate.

His name was Anastasio, and he was to become my fast friend and most cherished memory of our short time in that remote village. Anastasio had a wide and infectious smile that he flashed frequently throughout our days. He loved to join in the pick-up soccer games on the dirt and concrete field in the center of the village or the simple baseball games that started up with nothing more than a stick, a tennis ball, and bases etched in the dirt. He helped on our work site, came to our sing-alongs, and attended our devotional times. While I hadn’t even realized it, he was one of the hosts who was lodging four of our guys on the other side of the hill in his one-room blockhouse. He, his wife, and children had moved out into their thatched roof/stick hut to allow our men to stay in his house. At week’s end when we had a giant shaving cream fight, Anastasio was in the heart of the battle. I can still picture his big grin and wide face covered completely in white as he laughed with sheer delight at the joy of our playing.

One afternoon I purchased a beautiful five-inch knife blade made of some type of white flint from a nearby rancher, most likely made by an ancient Mayan hundreds of years ago. Upon seeing my delight, Anastasio commented that he had some of that same flint on a rock back in the woods. Off we went on a tour of his land. Narrow dirt trails snaked through the thick vegetation as he showed off his beehives, his gardens, his home, and a special cave.

image1Anastasio.JPG

We popped out on top of a hill where an old abandoned hut lay in ruins. Boulders were everywhere and Anastasio looked around insisting that this special rock was around somewhere. Within five minutes he’d found it and sure enough it held a beautiful band of cream colored flint. He hoisted the 80 pound boulder atop his head and trotted it back down to his home giggling the whole way. We spent the afternoon smashing and bashing this boulder, breaking off pieces of usable flint laughing all the while as chips and sparks flew in all directions. A most memorable day, I will never forget.

Coming home with several usable pieces of flint, I am now crafting this material into arrowheads and knife blades that I give away as mementos of our trip. Each time I hold a piece of flint in my hand, my heart warms and a gentle smile comes over me as I remember the humble, gentle, loving, and laughter-filled Mayan named Anastasio who in one week’s time bore a big hole of friendship into my often times judgmental heart. It is most likely that I will never see Anastasio again in this life. As it typical of most mission trips, I went to serve and to give, yet found the roles reversed as I was instead ministered to, and taught about the basics of life and faith by a simple and humble Mayan named Anastasio.

Isn’t if funny who God places in our life paths, to teach, to show, and to model true faith? Take a look around. You might be missing out on an excellent teacher!

We loved you so much that we were delighted to share with you not only the gospel of God, but our lives as well, because you had become so dear to us. 1 Thessalonians 2:8

Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business and to work with your hands, just as we told you. So that your daily life may win the respect of outsiders… 1 Thessalonians3:11-12

ANXIETY

A while a back, a young man in his mid-twenties sat in the chair opposite me in my office. He was sharing some of his life’s difficulties and struggles. Tears and a trembling body betrayed the pain and anguish of his internal struggles. I felt honored by his trust, but was also way too familiar with his turmoil and shame. It became painful for me as his stories took me back to my own life, when I sat in his chair and poured out my heart to a counselor. Surprised by the multitude of negative and powerful memories that came flooding back over me, I continued listening to this young man. Hearing all of his stuff, took me back to my own long and difficult struggles with a sinister and menacing nemesis: anxiety.

Anxiety is a strange and mysterious beast that devours you from the inside out. It erodes self-confidence and literally shrinks your world bit by bit. Fear begins to win over freedom, and worry or negative anticipation, becomes your constant companion. It is a dark, ugly, shame-filled, and lonely place to be. Sometimes you can name the source, and sometimes the root is elusive and you cannot even define it. Often it defies common sense and so to speak about it out loud, sounds ridiculous.

Leaving the office later that day, I was surprised by the impact my time with this young man had had on me, taking me back to all those dark and difficult times in my own life. But, later that day I was blessed by an amazing insight. I realized how far I’d come from those dark days! I realized that God had been faithful in huge ways. He had answered my bazillion prayers to be healed and to overcome my struggles with anxiety. There were certainly not any miraculous, instant cures as we read about in the bible, but over a long time, in His time, God has very faithfully brought growth and healing. I’ve come so very far in overcoming, living with, acknowledging, and growing with, in and through my struggles with anxiety.

Now, please know that I believe I did my part: i.e. had the courage to face myself, to seek out and do long-term counseling, to do my internal homework, to immerse myself in prayer and meditation, to stay physically healthy/fit, and to do the very things I was fearful of. In the end, it took long hindsight to realize that God has been quite faithful all along the way.

One of the first things my wise and thoughtful Christian therapist did was to have me open my bible to Psalm 139. It has become near and dear to me ever since.

May you find yourself and God working in and through your life in these verses.

O Lord you have searched my and you know me…. You are familiar with all my ways… You created me innermost being, you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Your works are wonderful… My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place… your eyes saw my unformed body… Search me Lord, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. Psalm 139

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and petition and giving thanks, present your request to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all human understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Phil 4:6-7

Be confident of this, that He who began a good work in you, will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ. Phil 1:6

APPLE PIE

Along old Broadway, north of town, on the Moorhead side they have removed most of the homes on the west side of the road due to the recent flooding. What remains is a wildlife paradise for turkeys and deer. It is awesome! Another bonus is that there are several apple trees that remain and mid-September is prime time apple harvest. So a couple days ago, my son, Shane, and I filled up a couple blue Rubbermaid tubs full of beautiful and tasty apples. How fun to be involved at ground zero of food production. Something about most kids these days have no clue. We chatted, tasted, laughed, and talked of life and deer and rabbits and airplanes and bows, and even climbed a couple trees. A great day to be sure.

That evening we once again carried on a long tradition of making apple pies that I’ve done with my daughters as well. You see, my mom, Beverly, made the very best apple pies in the world! To be certain, her pies were always there at Thanksgiving and Christmas, but it came to mean even more to me, because mom knew that I loved her apple pies more than anyone. So it became a sign of her love and caring, and any time I came home from a trip, or to visit, she’d have one of her tasty warm apple pies waiting for me.

She died several years ago of a sudden heart attack leaving a giant void in so many lives, including my own. So now, Shane’s tiny five year-old hands learn how to peel an apple, which is a bit boring and tedious, but a necessary act of love to a greater end, and he carefully slices the apple pieces with his little knife. We add sugar, and cinnamon, and then comes the fun part of finger pressing the top and bottom crust together like Playdough into a fun creative pattern. He finishes it all, with several pats of butter and then playfully pokes vent holes in the crust with a fork.

Shane never got to meet mom, but in the making of this pie…his hands touch hers as traditions pass on from generation to generation. And I… well, I smile and think back fondly of mom every time I peel an apple, pinch the crust, or savor the cinnamon scent that fills the kitchen, or bite into it’s tasty, warm, gooey, middle. I was blessed beyond belief by those apple pies, and even more by the hands and the woman who made them.

God often moves in the small, simple, every day, ordinary acts around us. May you become aware of, embrace, and acknowledge the many Godly blessings that happen in and around your everyday life through ordinary people.

Honor your father and mother, so that you may live long in the land the Lord your God is giving you. Exodus 20:12

Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it. Proverbs 22:6

AROMA

This morning, I took a paper-number to wait my turn in line at the always fun DMV. As I leaned against the wall, my nose crinkled as I noticed a very unpleasant odor. At first, I look a few whiffs of myself fearing I had missed a spot, or somehow had carried in some extra freeloaders on the soles of my shoes. Confirming it was neither, my eyes fanned the area and realized it must be the larger woman next to me. She walked with twin canes and it appeared by her appearance and demeanor, that life had been tough on her. I tried not to be judgmental, but I have to admit, I did just that, and was grateful and relieved when her number was called. Funny how a nasty aroma can be such a strong turn off to our senses.

On the flip side, I went for a long run yesterday. It was an absolutely gorgeous day for running; light breeze, warm air, and blue skies. The slight breeze brought continual waves of agreeable perfumed scent from the flowers from a variety of budding trees. These smells were so pleasing and soothing, almost begging me to stop and savor each unique fragrance. Every whiff brought a smile to my face and uplifted my spirit.

As I ran past Sanford Hospital the strong and welcome aroma of cedar chips, under the nearby spruce trees, instantly transported me to wild places and memories of the Boundary Waters and Wyoming’s mountain pines, or the rust colored, carpeted ponderosa forest floors of the Black Hills. That strong piney, effervescent aroma is sacred to me as I love wild and natural places amongst creation.

In my office I most often have sprig of sage, or sweet grass, or bear root. Native Americans used these as spiritual purifiers, and physical cleansers much like the pleasing incense of the old testament. The smoke and aroma they create were holy and sacred to these people. We use them as well when we recreate the sweat lodge for the very same reasons. I find their aroma sweet, and pleasing, and calming. My office mates may not agree! I simply smile.

Funny how simple scents can move you emotionally in one direction or another. They can add to the beauty and peace of the day, or they can turn you off and push you away.

"…In Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of Him. For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing. To the one we are the smell of death; to the other, the fragrance of life."

This message is not a call to check your deodorant