Perfect Love Casts Out Fear

Perfect Love Casts Out Fear

Guest Writer: Karen DuBert 

Love can sing a lullaby to still a fearful child

or hold a heart that’s broken together for a while.

Love can calm the terror that comes at night to prey

upon a mind that’s broken or a heart that’s gone astray.

 

Love can softly whisper peace when chaos is let loose,

when dogs of war are baying and there is no sign of truce.

Yes, Love has wondrous power to heal and bring us home,

but Love is not the answer to every heart of stone.

 

When depression’s clouds are gathered and hope has left the mind,

Love won’t reach in to clear the dust or raise the lowered blind.

When grief with all its shrouds of night has taken the control,

Love will never grab the wheel or hurt a wounded soul.

 

When disappointment rears its head—with stranger or with friend,

Love does not express dismay, nor will the thing to bend.

When heart’s frustration sighs because the listener cannot hear,

Love would not raise her voice or shout to make her meaning clear.

 

If Love is strong and good and true, why not use all her means?

If she is just to all oppressed, and faithful to her dreams,

why does she not drive clouds away and tear the blackened shroud?

Why not simply take control or speak words clear and loud?

 

Above all things that dear Love is, (much more than we)—she’s wise—

Her wisdom chooses gentleness, a strength in deep disguise.

She reaches out with open arms and piercéd hands to call

for Faith and Hope to help her heal the sparrow-like who fall.

Karen DuBert

Joanna Joannaseibert.com

A Message from North Carolina: 50 Sandwiches

A Message from North Carolina: 50 Sandwiches

 ‘Truly, I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did it to me.”   Matthew 25:40

Guest Writer: Pan Adams McCaslin

For over eight years, I have been actively involved with our area shelter agency, which serves seven counties in Western North Carolina. One of the many services provided includes feeding around 120 meals, three meals a day, 365 days a year, with takeout containers available for those not housed in the shelter or surrounding areas.

Evening meals are provided by area churches, families, and civic groups who work in teams to prepare meals. During the pandemic, everything was served in takeout containers. We lost the ability to sit at table together, share stories, listen to anxieties, and better understand the circumstances of daily realities.

In 2016, a Kickstarter project gathered stories of those living with homelessness – the book Fifty Sandwiches was the result. Its purpose was to raise awareness for the public to help them understand that homelessness was more than just a lack of shelter.

“For I was hungry, and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty, and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger, and you invited me in,  I needed clothes, and you clothed me, I was sick, and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.” Matthrw25:35-36.

Since Hurricane Helene hit Western North Carolina – shelter, food, and water have become basic survival needs for so many whose homes were either destroyed or no longer habitable. Compassionate care for those affected has poured in from around North America as restaurants that could not open due to the loss of potable water or other utilities provided food from food trucks or neighborhood grills.

The National Guard delivered food and water by helicopter. Construction equipment to move downed trees, destroyed water beds, and demolished homes appeared from northern states. College students unable to attend classes joined with non-profit groups to clear roads and debris. Utility companies from Canada and around the nation showed up to help rebuild utility lines. Neighbors helping neighbors, strangers helping strangers. “I was hungry, and you gave me something to eat.” 

The world is hungry for compassion and caring. Jesus calls us to pay attention - and act.

Who in your midst is hungry – for caring, for compassion,  for food, and for shelter?

Pan Adams McCaslin

Joanna Seibert joannaseibert.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Less Anxious Presence

Non-anxious presence/or less anxious presence

“The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach - waiting for a gift from the sea.”—Anne Morrow Lindbergh in Gift from the Sea (Pantheon 1955, 1991).

Anne Morrow Lindbergh describes our ideal position in our relationships and ministries. We are waiting “choiceless,” like at the beach, for the gift from the sea to know the next direction and the next words, especially in any decision or conflict.

Family Systems dynamics teach us that if we can remain a non-anxious presence in tension in relationships with others, we may keep tensions from growing and eventually solve any dilemma. I know few who can remain non-anxious, for it is not a human trait. However, staying less anxious is a real possibility.

If we can be the least anxious presence in any situation, we can keep the arteries in our body from tightening up, which takes minutes and weeks off our lifespan. Our inner and outer presence will stay calmer. We become a vessel for the spirit to become part of the relationship, decision, situation, meeting, encounter, or ministry.

Answer: How do we become like the beach waiting for the gift from the sea Lindbergh describes? It certainly involves spiritual disciplines. Prayer and meditation before, during, and after each decision, ministry, and relationship are a vast beginning.

We learn from our own spiritual disciplines and from hearing the experience of spiritual disciplines that others follow: centering prayer, morning prayer, yoga, a rule of life, spiritual direction, corporate worship, and study. There are many more. Our tradition, scripture, and reason tell us that these disciplines are gifts from God to help us care for our souls and those of others.

 But we should never forget Lindbergh’s central message. The world in nature outside our confined world is also the primary setting from which to learn, know, and feel the rhythm of waiting to receive Lindbergh’s gift from the sea.