Wednesday, December 7, 2022
Memorial of Saint Ambrose, Bishop and Doctor of the Church
(click here to listen to or read today’s scriptures)
Skipping at seventy
Lift up your eyes on high and see!
Skipping down the sidewalk? On Buddy’s date with Jovie in Elf, Buddy can hardly believe it himself. “I’m skipping! I’m skipping!”
Was Ambrose a “skipper?” The Franciscans say he was a “passionate little man with a high forehead, a long melancholy face, and great eyes, a frail figure clasping sacred Scripture” in his hands. So, maybe he didn’t skip down the street, not even at Christmas.
But he was a man of action, and his teaching turned St. Augustine toward Jesus and resulted in baptism. Consequently, Augustine’s mom Monica “loved Ambrose as an angel of God.”
Do you not know, have you not heard? The Lord is the eternal God, creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint nor grow weary, and his knowledge goes beyond scrutiny. Bless the Lord, O my soul, bless his holy name.
Yesterday at ADRN (Austin Disaster Relief Network)’s thrift store, my son-in-law Aki, George and I mostly put together a Bowflex someone donated. Aki is like the doctor, and George and I hand him tools. Aki puts together thousand piece jigsaw puzzles in just a few hours. But even Aki couldn’t put together parts that were missing. At least he figured out what those parts were, and if they are available somewhere, maybe next week we can finish the job.
The Bowflex is over six feet tall and weighs more than a hundred pounds. Probably a lot more than a hundred pounds. At one point I sat down on the floor in the middle of it all to insert and tighten four bolts. No problem. Except the bolt threads didn’t quite fit the holes cut into the metal. It wasn’t long before my right leg started to cramp. My 73 years caught up with me in that moment.
He gives strength to the weary and the weak. He heals all your ills and redeems your life from destruction.
Sometimes I pretend I’m younger than I am. I push my body further in public than when I’m alone. I can remember leaping and jumping and praising God, even skipping, yes, with my girlfriend, down the street. Those were the days. I do not want them to pass me by.
They that wait upon the Lord will renew their strength, they will mount up on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not faint.
Teach me, Lord, to wait. I won’t be running on my legs like that again. Skipping along the streets of Manhattan isn’t in my future. But still, writing this, imagining this, my heart speeds up, my breathing too, and I notice how happy I am. This is the nature, I think, of what people sometimes call “awe and wonder.”
Tonight, instead of skipping, I’ll turn out the lights, sit in front of the Christmas tree, watch the animals and people in our nativity scene and join them, singing some simple songs to Jesus. Just a word or two directed toward the Lord. Do you hear what I hear?
Come unto me, all ye who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart, and you will find rest for your soul.
(Isaiah 40, Psalm 103, Matthew 11)
(posted at www.davesandel.net)
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