Darkness and Opportunity

I did something last night I haven't taken the time to do in quite a while.  I sat out on the deck and read.  Now, reading on the deck isn't a remarkable achievement, but since I met with my doctor this week, seems that I will be spending more time on that deck reading.  An MRI has conclusively determined that I have a tendon tear in my ankle and my doctor has advised that my only hope of avoiding surgery is to rest and immobilize the ankle.  I will preach on Sundays, but be limited in my movements for the next several weeks. I am going to try my best to behave, though I haven't done a very good job with this ankle leading up to now.  So, reading and writing on the deck will become a part of my new routine for the time being.

 

I have been reading Barbara Brown Taylor's "Learning to Walk in the Dark," in preparation for our discussion of her book this coming Monday evening.  She writes about becoming more attune to the world about her after dark.  Her assessment is correct that we often consider the darkness as evil and the bright light of day our salvation, but she is also correct in reminding us that the darkness holds great wonder and possibility, from the quiet and solitude it offers, to the glory of the moon and stars, to the rustling of nature that is only experienced after dark.  I began to try and remember the last time I saw a sky full of stars or watched the moon rise over an unencumbered horizon.  As I was closing her book last night at dusk, I closed my eyes and listened to the sounds of the night. I heard a particular call of a bird I had not heard before, a call perhaps to a mate, or simply the marking of time to embrace the approaching darkness.  Too often, in the busyness of our lives, we fail to notice the wonders of God's world as we rush from place to place, crisis to crisis. For the next few weeks, my forced slowdown will hopefully give me the opportunity to listen and observe the world around me a bit more closely.  If it does, the time will have been well spent. 

 

Jim Abernathy

The Joy of Homecoming

Whether I have been gone five minutes or five hours, the response in always the same...unbridled, absolute enthusiasm.  No, I can't say that Cindy greets me this way when I come in, and no, my son, Clayton doesn't usually leave his chair when I walk in the door.  Max, our Miniature Schnauzer, however, never misses an opportunity to let me know that he is so glad I am home.  Now, lest you think this appreciation is singularly expressed, I would have to confess that Max greets everyone the same way.  I suppose he is convinced, in his very limited world, that everyone has come to see him.  But, after a hard day, or when coming into an empty house, his loud, boisterous welcome lets me know that there is joy in my homecoming.

 

This weekend we celebrate the joy of homecoming, whether literally as a father comes through the door, or in our remembrances as we reflect on those men whose presence once touched our lives.  Father's Day, at its best, is a recognition that many of us owe a great deal to our fathers whose sacrifice, commitment, and love have blessed our lives.  Though my father died nearly thirteen years ago, his influence is still quite welcome in my memories of him.  His persistent faith and unwavering love were gifts that continue to impact my life.  To remember and give thanks is a fitting tribute on this Father's Day weekend for those of us whose fathers are no longer with us. But for those who still are blessed to welcome a father home at the end of the day or perhaps connect across the miles by phone, Skype, or some other means, take time to share your appreciation and love, and maybe, like Max, your enthusiasm when you make that connection.  That will be a gift you both treasure.

 

Jim Abernathy

Lessons of D-Day

The further removed we are from significant events in history, the more we tend to forget or lose interest in their meaning. Today marks the seventieth anniversary of the allied invasion of France, known as D-Day.  With each passing year, the men and women who lived through those difficult days of world conflict, are fewer and fewer among us.  Their passing, and our own modern distractions, seem to muffle these voices whose stories should not be forgotten.  I say this not to glorify war or justify our continuing bent toward human violence and destruction, but in deference to the commitment so many made to give of themselves for a cause they deemed worthy. Newspapers, television, Internet sites are full of stories of such sacrifice on this June 6, 2014.  It is estimated that there were as many as twelve thousand allied casualties during the D-Day invasion, perhaps four to nine thousand casualties on the German side.  The costs of war should never be forgotten or ignored. 

 

Along those same beaches and the surrounding hills, observances are being held today to commemorate what happened on that day. (Our own Tom and Judi Kern are witnessing some of these events as the Fairfax Harmonizers are there to perform.)   It is good to remember the courage and faithful service of those who risked themselves on that terrible day, and good also to remember the terrible costs of war. 

 

History has a great deal to teach us, if we are willing to listen.  Take a moment to hear the voices of men and women whose bravery and commitment have much to say on this D-Day. The lessons of seven decades ago are still very relevant for today.

 

I look forward to seeing you Sunday.

 

Jim Abernathy