Walking With God

Posted on July 19, 2014 by Suzanne Montgomery

I love to hike. It’s definitely one of my passions. I’ve hiked many Indiana State Park trails. Some of my favorites, I’ve walked several times such as Trail 3 at Turkey Run. Parts of this trail take you through a creek bed that has carved out a narrow ravine. Hemlocks lean over the edge of the ravine and often a mist hangs in the air. I feel as if I have been transported back into pre-historic time when I take this trail. There is such a peace and tranquility gained from walking trails in deep woodlands where in the spring brilliant wildflowers blanket the forest floor. On winter hikes at Clifty Falls, I am amazed at the sight of waterfalls partially frozen as they tumble into the canyon below. The sunlight is almost too bright as it reflects off the snow and ice. Away from everyday noise and stress, these are God’s meeting places.

It’s not difficult to feel like I am walking with God in these locations. I have no agenda or distractions to pull me away. Nature is God’s tabernacle. But what about the other 95% of my time spent in the “real” world? How do I walk with God then?

The Bible is replete with references to people who walked with God: Adam and Eve in the garden, Noah, Abraham, and Moses, to name a few. They had close, intimate communion with God. Is this type of relationship with God only a thing of the past? I don’t think so. I believe that this is the role of the Holy Spirit: to walk with each one of us in our daily lives. But we have to choose to let the Spirit be our companion. Our hearts need to be open and we must leave space in our busy schedules to listen as well as tell the Spirit what’s on our mind, just as we would a friend. If we didn’t take the time to relate to our friends, would they really be friends? Probably not. To explain this relationship with the Spirit to someone who has never experienced it, is difficult. It’s generally not dramatic as it was when the disciples received the Spirit on Pentecost with a strong wind and fire. It is a subtle voice that gives you words to say in a difficult situation. It is the nudge to give a hug to your neighbor who unbeknownst to you, really needs it at that moment. It is the unseen hands on your shoulders and the thought that suddenly pops into your brain saying, “I want you to do this; you can help.” I’ve experienced all these things and more throughout my life. Deep in my being, I know these experiences are not just in my imagination but are from God. They are real.

Walking with God is a choice to walk beside Him, not in front of Him or behind Him. It’s a partnership. If a person walks behind Him, they can see what He is doing through other people but they are not a part of it. They know He exists but they keep their distance and don’t get involved in His work. If a person walks in front of God, they may be doing great work helping others but they may not be where God wants them to be or where they fit best. They are leading the way, not permitting God to be in charge. Then there are others who just wander away aimlessly. They are like sheep who keep their heads down while eating. When they finally look up, the Good Shepherd is nowhere in sight. Luckily, He is always searching for them to bring them back to Him so they don’t continue to be lost. The best position is to be right beside God as a friend. Every day He is there to give you advice and show you the right path uniquely suited just for you. He cheers you on in the good times and is right there beside you to carry you through the bad times. The joy of this kind of relationship is unlimited.

Often, I think we look only to the future and think Heaven is the place we will be with God. But this kind of thinking forgets that Jesus said the Kingdom of God is here now, not just sometime in the future. Eternity begins for each one of us at our birth, not at our death. Now we walk with God through the Spirit, but in the future we will see Him face to face. It’s only a matter of opening your heart and taking that first step…

Sanctuary

Posted on July 16, 2014 by Suzanne Montgomery

The wildflowers I picked for our Open House this week-end are wilted this morning. They were so beautiful when I placed them in the vase on our dining room table. They are bold and colorful yet delicate. Here today, gone tomorrow, fleeting beauty…

It was my son Garrett who convinced me to plant large patches of wildflowers in our yard to attract the bees and butterflies. I now have a small patch of milkweed to offer food for the Monarchs but I haven’t seen any for years. They have all but been driven away by the overuse of herbicides and pesticides on our farm fields. I understand why the farmers have used these chemicals to increase crop yields but if we destroy our pollinators, there will be no crops. We must find ways to use less harmful chemicals and provide places of respite for the bees and butterflies.

Lady Bird Johnson understood the importance of the wildflower when she and actress, Helen Hayes founded the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center in Austin Texas in 1982. It is a veritable sanctuary of native plants and natural landscapes, a place of respite for the pollinators and other wildlife. We had the opportunity to visit there when my daughter, Rozie lived in Austin. I would highly recommend a visit there to any lover of nature. It is a paradise indeed.

Isn’t it interesting that the word “sanctuary” is used both as a name for a place of refuge for wildlife and also the name for a holy place of worship? Shouldn’t our churches be a place of refuge and respite, a safe place for seekers? Yet in many instances, this is not the case. We pick and choose who can enter our “sanctuary” as if it is reserved for a few select people. Jesus said, “Come all you who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” The emphasis on all is mine but I think you get the picture.

We offer sanctuary to those we believe to be worthy. If a person’s lifestyle doesn’t fit our definition, then they are excluded. I am divorced and it has not been that long ago that I would have been excluded because of this. Even today in many Catholic congregations, those who are divorced are excluded from taking Holy Communion. Who are we to withhold the Body and Blood of Christ to those who seek to embrace Him? Would my divorce be the path that God would choose for me to take? No. It has brought much pain and suffering to all those involved. However, through it there has been forgiveness and change of hearts that probably wouldn’t have happened otherwise.

As a divorcee, I am now accepted in the church but I see my friends who are gay being excluded from many congregations. Why am I accepted and they are not? Can we not see them for the beautiful children of God that they are? Not one of us stands before God pure and holy. Then how can we judge the behavior of one and not another? It is hypocritical.

Our churches should be sanctuaries dedicated to be places of refuge and respite for everyone. Many of our churches are but it’s difficult to see them. We must purposefully plant patches of wildflowers, so to speak, to attract seekers from every walk of life to join us. Otherwise we will find ourselves alone, inwardly focused only. Jesus, who we claim to be our refuge and savior, was never meant to be withheld for a select few, but offered to everyone.

Becoming Real

Posted on July 2, 2014 by Suzanne Montgomery

When I was just a young girl, I remember going to visit my great, great grandmother, Anna Peterson. She had just turned 103 years old and many family members gathered to celebrate at my great Aunt Mena and Uncle Augie’s home in Marion, Indiana. She was very frail. As she sat in her wheel chair, she reached out to touch my face. Her vision and hearing were both very poor. She recognized me by touch, not sight and she called me by name. Her senses were impaired but her mind was still sharp. I’ve often pondered after seeing Grandma Peterson through my child’s eyes, whether I would want to live to be 103 as she had. But the impression she left on me was great. She knew who I was without the benefit of her senses. I was her oldest great, great grandchild and she valued me. I could feel it in her touch, gentle and kind.

When we are valued and we know it, we are changed forever. The late writer, Maya Angelou once said, “I have learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” Oh, how true! What a difference it makes when a person makes you feel valued. It’s not what the other person said or did but the way in which they did it. It’s the warm smile, the attentive look, the light touch of their hand that convey that they care deeply. Their authenticity is not contrived but real. Unfortunately in the world we live in, this type of authentic caring is a rare commodity. In a self-oriented culture, it actually is surprising to see selfless acts any more. How have we wandered so far from real, genuine caring for each other?

One of my absolute favorite children’s books is, “The Velveteen Rabbit.” I don’t think I have ever finished reading that book aloud without getting teary eyed. The little stuffed rabbit loved the boy so much that his fur was rubbed off and the shine of his eyes was dulled. When the boy recovered from his illness, the dear rabbit was thrown in the fire with other items from his room. As all appeared lost, suddenly the toy rabbit was turned into a living rabbit with soft fur and a wiggly nose. His deep love, though it made him ragged, also made him “real”.

I believe the Velveteen Rabbit was real long before he became a living rabbit. We become real when we allow ourselves to be vulnerable. Authenticity forces us to let down our facade and stop worrying about our rights. “We” becomes more important than “me”. Time is spent connecting with others and in relationship. We put down our smart phones and really communicate with each other. Success is not measured by power, prestige or possessions but by the depth of our commitment and faithfulness to others.

The greatest example of what it means to be “real” was Jesus. He valued people over everything else and those he touched knew it. He had no power, prestige or possessions that would give Him worldly success. The devil tempted Him with these earthly valuables in the wilderness but He turned him away. Jesus’ eyes saw true value in people, not things. He had compassion for the widows. He loved on babies. He touched people that everyone else shunned. These were His treasures.

After Jesus’ death, Mary Magdalene and some other women came to the tomb the day after Passover to anoint His body. The stone was rolled away and His body was not there. Jesus appeared to Mary by the tomb but through her tears, she did not recognize Him but thought He was the gardener. Only when He spoke her name, did she recognize Him. I can only imagine the loving way Jesus spoke her name. The gentleness of His voice was music to her ears. Her Lord and Master had returned!

We become real by imitating Christ. As we value people as He valued them, little by little, we come to resemble Him. It can be a long process and sometimes painful. The skin horse explains how it happens to the Velveteen Rabbit.

“What is REAL?” asked the Rabbit one day. “Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?”

“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Sometimes.” For he was always truthful. “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.:

“Does it happen all at once, like being wound up, or bit by bit?”

“It doesn’t happen all at once. You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t often happen to people who break easily, or who have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby.”

“But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

“The Velveteen Rabbit” by Margery Williams (1880-1944)