Saturday, March 19, 2022                                          (today’s lectionary)
Solemnity of Saint Joseph, husband of the Blessed Virgin Mary
Angels in the rafters
Why do I do this? Watching the Illini can be like watching a dentist pull my tooth. It was that way yesterday, when the Fighting Illini led for 25 seconds of their entire NCAA tournament basketball game against Chattanooga. Luckily, it was the right twenty-five seconds, and they won by a point.
I shrank into my chair as the game went on. We were with friends, and we were all shrinking into our chairs. “Margaret said you scream and holler during these games,” Laura said. Well, not today.
Getting back to peace and quiet matters more to me than most anything. There will be another game on Sunday, and I’ll go through yesterday’s blood, sweat and tears again. And hope for another chance to sweat next weekend. At least I’m learning about breathing under pressure. Deep calls to deep – breathe, David, breathe!
I do love watching basketball players throw caution to the winds. What caution? They throw themselves on the floor, they pass the ball between their legs and behind their backs, they run as fast as they can for forty minutes. They take shots they should never take and sometimes make them. There rarely seems to be any doubt that their team is going to win the game. This is just as true for fourth grade girls (like Aly) as those college players we are watching this weekend.
The promises of the Lord I will sing forever; through all generations my mouth shall proclaim your faithfulness. You are my father, my God, the rock, my Savior.
Trusting God is easier for me by far than trusting the Illini to win. But when they play with abandon and trust themselves, then the winning isn’t so important. They will win often, and when they lose, no matter. I am sure God wants me to live the same way, to live with abandon and trust God absolutely. Trust God within me and without me.
I’m leaving for Rte 66 and the west tomorrow, to the desert and the mountains, to the world of native America, to the blue cloudless skies. I trust our Prius to get me there. I trust my peripheral vision to avoid accidents. I trust God for all of this, and far beyond. Because anything that happens is covered by heavenly love and affection that transcends even my life and death.
Abraham believed, hoping against hope. He is our father in the sight of God, in whom we believe, who gives life to the dead and calls into being what does not exist.
All seems often lost. Anxiety, fear, and grief sing their laments over and over inside my soul. Sometimes I play my harmonica, and weep. Sometimes nothing goes right. When those around me seem broken, I feel broken too.
In the quiet of a shadow, in the corner of a room
Darkness moves upon you like a cloud across the moon
You’re aware in all the silence of a constant that will turn
Like the windmill left deserted or the sun forever burned
So
Don’t forget to breathe, don’t forget to breathe
Your whole life is here, no eleventh hour reprieve
So
Don’t forget to breathe
Keep your head above water, but don’t forget to breathe. – Alexi Murdoch
Miserable, betrayed and alone Joseph falls asleep. Mary “had been found with child through the Holy Spirit.” Oh sure, no one believes that. Joseph decided to divorce Mary quietly. Hopes dashed, love in tatters, the future dark. And he knew Mary was as sad as he was.
Then behold, the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph! Do not be afraid to take Mary your wife into your home. This child in her came through the Holy Spirit. When she delivers the baby, you are to name him Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.
And Joseph awoke, shook the sleep out of his eyes, and did as the Lord commanded. The angels looked on, smiled at one another, and they were pleased.
(2 Samuel 7, Psalm 89, Romans 4, Psalm 84, Matthew 1)
(posted at www.davesandel.net)
#
