I'm in my 60s and I still have a lot of old ideas of myself. And no matter how many times I've been beaten down by the tyranny of a drive for perfection, I still try to please that thug.
But I trust that I'm becoming new, little by little.
Amen. I'm so grateful that when booze and drugs finally left me for dead in my own proverbial ditch a whole fellowship of people with whom I normally would not mix was there to pick me up and show me how to unconditionally care for the person in the next ditch. (And for the million and a half other times I've experiencing the good news of this banger of a parable to be true.)
Brilliant! All these years thinking I had plumbed the depths of that often repeated story! But, right in front of my eyes you flipped the parable like a pancake. I've prayed often for God to send me the people I think I need to connect with. Of course, I'm often convinced that the beautiful woman, or the powerful politician, or the business executive with the next great deal, are exactly those subjects. Especially if their needs are something I can help with quickly and affordably. Mercifully, God's plan is different. It's most likely the helpless raggedy old drunk, or a barely intelligible, mentally ill person fresh out of a treatment program who glom onto me. Souls who cling to me like a piece of tape stuck to the sole of my shoe. I can't shake them off. And to make matters more exhausting, they have an uncanny knack for inconvenience, often arriving when I can't seem to let go of my plans -- like when I'm right in the middle of composing my next great story, or cooking a masterpiece, or drifting off into a delicious afternoon nap. Thank you Lord, they persist. Over time I've come to understand them not as "inconvenient distractions", grist for some sort of magical prayer mill where I can deposit them and their baggage then move on to the next subject. Instead, God has rooted them beside me as He implants in me a new heart. Like a backlit statue in a dark gallery, they illuminate the paucity of meaning in my life, but in time become the surgical light illuminating the Holy Spirit's heart transplant surgery. Thank you for your writings. Thank you for shaking my foundations. Love you folks! Steven
Oof - way to kick off a Sunday morning with "And sometimes we are the ones who get to show kindness to those who think we are trash." Yassssssssss we do, don't we?
As always, thank you for your words. Always grateful for the things that I can hold on to like the quote above and this one - "Maybe you are sitting here today with some pretty worn out old ideas about yourself. And if so, I hope you get knocked over by the holy spirit." Here's praying that I get knocked over into believing that I am enough.
I appreciate your interpretation of the stories I grew up with but no one ever explained. Brings a whole new meaning to them. Here's to all things new.
A few years ago I was thinking through my plans for a sermon on the Good Samaritan while out walking my dogs. Close to home I took a turning and slipped, and ended up in a narrow ditch. I was ok but immediately felt foolish. Suddenly my perspective had changed and I was looking up at the sky from the ground, flat on my back, thankful that I wasn't seriously hurt. It was everything I needed to help me understand what Jesus was trying to say!
I awoke this morning from a bad dream about losing my sixty nine year old wife at a Bruce Springsteen concert in a huge enclosed auditorium the size of a football stadium when she went to the bathroom and I went to exchange our tickets for some better seats before the lights went out and the crowd stood and cheered and the loud rock music would soon drown out our very thoughts and she wasn’t where we’d been before we’d gone our separate ways when I returned with tickets for seats with a better view and I couldn’t find her and I couldn’t get my goddamned phone to work to try to call her before the bedlam began and I heard my thoughts saying as I awoke, “I hate myself. I HATE MYSELF. PLEASE JESUS HELP ME NOT TO HATE MYSELF!”
And then I read this instead of reading my Bible first like maybe I should do . . . and well . . . it helped me NOT to hate myself.
Thank you for being my “Good Samaritan” this morning. 🙏🏻✝️❤️
That is some piece of writing, Nadia. Thanks for the food for thought. Really. It puts life-altering beatdowns, the grace of being rescued and evolving into a more compassionate person to “the other”, into a new light. Ha! And the meaning of that word, “light”.
Becoming new is not something we can do on our own for sure. The blockade I put in front of me is judgement. And it is mostly aimed at those in power politically. I can visualize myself helping those who appear unloveable, and have helped those who are marginalized, or imprisoned, or turned away by society. But I pray that one day the Good Lord helps me to see at least a glimpse of how I might care for someone like [ fill in the blank].
I am seventy years old. Retired from hospital chaplaincy and pastoral counseling. Spent a good bit of that time trying to be a "better person." Grateful for the times and ways God confronted me with the need to be made "new." The most recent time was reading this piece by Nadia. Thanks, as always, Nadia--for your wit, wisdom, and insight!
Wowza! "Who do you say that I am" is something I always heard in my head as God asking me about his place in my life. Reading your comment, I can see that it's an entirely different question if I ask it of God. Like, if I ask God to define me, then I'm solidly working Step 3 (willing to turn my will and my life over to the care of my Higher Power). Knocked me out!
Until we understand the depth of our own brokenness and self destructive ways we will never understand the magnitude of God’s grace and mercy that seeks to pick us up out of the ditch and helps us to be people of grace, mercy and tangible ways of compassion to other people. He picked me up out of my 24 year old ditch of shit in 1974 and has been cleaning me up for the past 51 years. Nadia that was a truly insightful applicational sermon. I appreciate you. ( Sorry after 40 years of being a pastor and preacher I just can’t help myself.)😬
I had become (maybe) the worst version of myself a few years ago. I slithered into a room full of people who had experienced the same bottom of the ditch feeling.
I found out that there was a lot of opportunity to serve in that room and that others could benefit from my experience strength and hope.
My gratitude to the people who seek me out and share their pain is (nearly) boundless.
I'm in my 60s and I still have a lot of old ideas of myself. And no matter how many times I've been beaten down by the tyranny of a drive for perfection, I still try to please that thug.
But I trust that I'm becoming new, little by little.
Thank you. This was good.
Amen. I'm so grateful that when booze and drugs finally left me for dead in my own proverbial ditch a whole fellowship of people with whom I normally would not mix was there to pick me up and show me how to unconditionally care for the person in the next ditch. (And for the million and a half other times I've experiencing the good news of this banger of a parable to be true.)
Same here.
Yes! I didn't truly understand the fullness of grace and mercy until I began recovery from alcohol addiction - made it so real.
Brilliant! All these years thinking I had plumbed the depths of that often repeated story! But, right in front of my eyes you flipped the parable like a pancake. I've prayed often for God to send me the people I think I need to connect with. Of course, I'm often convinced that the beautiful woman, or the powerful politician, or the business executive with the next great deal, are exactly those subjects. Especially if their needs are something I can help with quickly and affordably. Mercifully, God's plan is different. It's most likely the helpless raggedy old drunk, or a barely intelligible, mentally ill person fresh out of a treatment program who glom onto me. Souls who cling to me like a piece of tape stuck to the sole of my shoe. I can't shake them off. And to make matters more exhausting, they have an uncanny knack for inconvenience, often arriving when I can't seem to let go of my plans -- like when I'm right in the middle of composing my next great story, or cooking a masterpiece, or drifting off into a delicious afternoon nap. Thank you Lord, they persist. Over time I've come to understand them not as "inconvenient distractions", grist for some sort of magical prayer mill where I can deposit them and their baggage then move on to the next subject. Instead, God has rooted them beside me as He implants in me a new heart. Like a backlit statue in a dark gallery, they illuminate the paucity of meaning in my life, but in time become the surgical light illuminating the Holy Spirit's heart transplant surgery. Thank you for your writings. Thank you for shaking my foundations. Love you folks! Steven
love this reflection, Steve. Thank you.
Oof - way to kick off a Sunday morning with "And sometimes we are the ones who get to show kindness to those who think we are trash." Yassssssssss we do, don't we?
As always, thank you for your words. Always grateful for the things that I can hold on to like the quote above and this one - "Maybe you are sitting here today with some pretty worn out old ideas about yourself. And if so, I hope you get knocked over by the holy spirit." Here's praying that I get knocked over into believing that I am enough.
I appreciate your interpretation of the stories I grew up with but no one ever explained. Brings a whole new meaning to them. Here's to all things new.
Happy New Year Nadia.
A few years ago I was thinking through my plans for a sermon on the Good Samaritan while out walking my dogs. Close to home I took a turning and slipped, and ended up in a narrow ditch. I was ok but immediately felt foolish. Suddenly my perspective had changed and I was looking up at the sky from the ground, flat on my back, thankful that I wasn't seriously hurt. It was everything I needed to help me understand what Jesus was trying to say!
Pastor Nadia,
I awoke this morning from a bad dream about losing my sixty nine year old wife at a Bruce Springsteen concert in a huge enclosed auditorium the size of a football stadium when she went to the bathroom and I went to exchange our tickets for some better seats before the lights went out and the crowd stood and cheered and the loud rock music would soon drown out our very thoughts and she wasn’t where we’d been before we’d gone our separate ways when I returned with tickets for seats with a better view and I couldn’t find her and I couldn’t get my goddamned phone to work to try to call her before the bedlam began and I heard my thoughts saying as I awoke, “I hate myself. I HATE MYSELF. PLEASE JESUS HELP ME NOT TO HATE MYSELF!”
And then I read this instead of reading my Bible first like maybe I should do . . . and well . . . it helped me NOT to hate myself.
Thank you for being my “Good Samaritan” this morning. 🙏🏻✝️❤️
Ahh, perhaps you were the one lost in and bound to your hatred of yourself. Perfect timing for this reflection. Ain't God surprising.
Always IS, huh!
Dear Nadia,
Thank you for this eye opener to mercy. 🥹 His Grace and Mercy makes us a new person. Nothing else. 💙
Therefore I am in the „League of the Guilty“.
There is no other best place to be.
Romans 5:
„But where sin increased, [God’s remarkable, gracious gift of] grace [His unmerited favor] has surpassed it and increased all the more..“
Help us God to see that even our worst enemy can be our neighbor.
New year‘s hug from Germany to you ☺️✨
Ree
That is some piece of writing, Nadia. Thanks for the food for thought. Really. It puts life-altering beatdowns, the grace of being rescued and evolving into a more compassionate person to “the other”, into a new light. Ha! And the meaning of that word, “light”.
Excellent! You have such a way of bringing new wisdom and wonderful hopefulness in your sermons. Thanks for sharing.
Becoming new is not something we can do on our own for sure. The blockade I put in front of me is judgement. And it is mostly aimed at those in power politically. I can visualize myself helping those who appear unloveable, and have helped those who are marginalized, or imprisoned, or turned away by society. But I pray that one day the Good Lord helps me to see at least a glimpse of how I might care for someone like [ fill in the blank].
I am seventy years old. Retired from hospital chaplaincy and pastoral counseling. Spent a good bit of that time trying to be a "better person." Grateful for the times and ways God confronted me with the need to be made "new." The most recent time was reading this piece by Nadia. Thanks, as always, Nadia--for your wit, wisdom, and insight!
Nadia, thank you. I love how your storytelling helps me see fresh truth in familiar verses. Blessings to you and Eric today!
I love this post. I wish the whole world would read it!
Thank you for this new perspective on a familiar story.
I wrote this on a blank page in my journal this morning:
Am I looking for the One Answer rather than the One Question?
Who do you say that I am?
I am sensing this question works both ways…
Wowza! "Who do you say that I am" is something I always heard in my head as God asking me about his place in my life. Reading your comment, I can see that it's an entirely different question if I ask it of God. Like, if I ask God to define me, then I'm solidly working Step 3 (willing to turn my will and my life over to the care of my Higher Power). Knocked me out!
Until we understand the depth of our own brokenness and self destructive ways we will never understand the magnitude of God’s grace and mercy that seeks to pick us up out of the ditch and helps us to be people of grace, mercy and tangible ways of compassion to other people. He picked me up out of my 24 year old ditch of shit in 1974 and has been cleaning me up for the past 51 years. Nadia that was a truly insightful applicational sermon. I appreciate you. ( Sorry after 40 years of being a pastor and preacher I just can’t help myself.)😬
So true, Steve.
I had become (maybe) the worst version of myself a few years ago. I slithered into a room full of people who had experienced the same bottom of the ditch feeling.
I found out that there was a lot of opportunity to serve in that room and that others could benefit from my experience strength and hope.
My gratitude to the people who seek me out and share their pain is (nearly) boundless.
Bless you, Pastor Nadia.
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