Baskets of Promise

During the season of Lent, CtK is collecting items for Personal Care Kits, to be distributed by Lutheran World Relief. Each week, we add to our "Baskets of Promise" by collecting one of the items for the kits. This week (March 30th) we are collecting combs; next week (April 6th) we are collecting metal nail clippers. On April 13th we'll collect individually wrapped bars of soap (again), since every kit contains two bars of soap.
The response to this effort has been overwhelming. THANK YOU to all who have so generously donated items for care kits. While our original goal was to assemble 50 kits, it looks like we may be able to send even more than that.
I don't know about you, but I take a lot of things for granted - my toothbrush (given to me by my dentist), soap in the shower and near every sink (which are all indoors, with hot and cold running water safe to drink and bathe in), clean towels, my favorite hairbrush... Should I forget something while I'm traveling, I might be inconvenienced, but that's about the worst of it. Hotels often offer spares, and it's easy enough to go out and purchase a replacement whatever if I need it.
But for those recovering from natural disasters, or living in severely impoverished or refugee communities, the gift of a personal care kit means a lot. Personal care kits are a tangible expression of God's love and care for those in need.

Students open Personal Care Kits in their class.

If you'd like to learn more, check out the interactive map which shows distribution of Lutheran World Relief quilts and kits. (Personal care kits were shipped in late January to Syrian refugees in camps in Northern Iraq, and the timeline on the link will show when they arrive).

Be still and know that I am God.

My life is not very quiet these days.

This is why I need the quiet atmosphere of midweek Lenten worship to calm my mind, body, and spirit.

I have always enjoyed evening worship. There is something about darkness, candlelight, quiet music, and gentle voices that calm me and help me be still.

My eldest daughter Marit won’t take an afternoon nap unless she is still and quiet.

I have a hard time sensing the presence of the Holy Spirit unless I am still and quiet.

Evening worship provides an opportunity to be still and quiet.

A musical prelude and postlude draws me into the worship space, and keeps me there when I think I need to leave to tend to my duties as a pastor, husband, and father.

The contrast between darkness and light during evening worship holds my attention, unlike some other lighting arrangements.

Quiet voices reading scripture, uttering prayers, and singing hymns calm me down much like when I speak to my boisterous children with a still, small voice.

I will continue to participate in evening worship because I need the quiet, I need the calm, and I need the stillness to help me sense the presence of God’s Holy Spirit.

Perhaps that is God’s gift to us during this season leading up to Holy Week and Easter.

We need the quiet. We need the calm. We need the stillness to help us sense the presence of God’s Holy Spirit.

It's Lent

It's Lent. We're three days in already, having observed Ash Wednesday two days ago, with the solemn reminders that we are all, indeed, going to die; that sin is real; and that neither of those two realities is the last word on us. Thanks be to God.

 

While Lent may not be the happiest of seasons, I need it. I need the raw honesty, the reminder that I do indeed need saving from "weak resignation to the evils we deplore" as the old hymn puts it, and that I frequently need saving from myself. I need a fresh start. Again.

One of the downsides of Lent is how "do-able" it can seem - the invitation to embrace a discipline, or to undertake a "40 ___ for the 40 Days of Lent" challenge can make someone like me feel like maybe if I just try hard enough, and buckle down, and build up that will-power, I could keep a "Holy Lent." While I tend not to enjoy failure, I need that, too, especially during Lent, otherwise I'm tempted to make a god of my own good intentions and small successes.

 

It's a paradoxical season: Struggle with sin, and don't resign yourself to it; "return to God," to paraphrase the reading from the prophet Joel on Ash Wednesday. At the same time, recognize that you have, and always will, fail in that struggle. And that's precisely why returning to God (who never left us, by the way) is such good news. In Lent we are invited again to acknowledge that God always comes down to us, to our world, to the messiness of our hearts. And loves us. And takes up residence right in the middle of the broken, and weary, and otherwise hopeless.

So - pick a discipline (prayer, fasting, almsgiving, 40 ___ for 40 days) and embrace it with all you've got. When you follow through, give thanks. And when you falter, give thanks. You are human. You will die. And you are held, and loved, by a God who raises the dead to life.