At Water’s Edge

We are in full blown soft shell crab season here on Colington Island. A casual drive along Colington Road reveals rows and rows of shedders all over the place. Shedders are the shallow, open tanks used to harvest the crabs. Blue crabs are placed in water-filled trays and watched carefully until they begin to shed their shells. The shell comes off to facilitate the crab’s growth. When it begins to come off, there is a small window of opportunity to harvest it before the new shell begins to grow. The crabber must retrieve it in an hour or so once the shell has fully peeled off. Soft shell crabs are a fantastic delicacy, as they can be eaten whole in their shell-free state with no pickin’.

Shedding is a 24 hour operation for the crabber. When I drive home at night during the season, I can see the light bulbs that are stung overhead all lit, with crabbers moving to and fro, bent over in their labor. The crabbers must get up (or stay up) every three hours to capture that exact moment when the shell is shed and the crab is ripe for processing. It is a fascinating and lucrative industry.

The entire process is amazing to me. I see my community working hard through the night to provide for their families. I see local restaurants celebrating the harvest with tasty dishes that you can only get here. Colington’s local restaurant, The Salt Box Cafe, sits directly across the street from a row of shedders. You know if you order soft shells there, they were swimming last night!

Two parts of this process capture my imagination.

1. The crab has to shed its shell in order to grow.

2. There is a small, defined opportunity to harvest the crab.

The story of Moses also begins with being “drawn out of the water.” His Hebrew mother had to hide him as an infant in a reed basket and float him down a river so that he wouldn’t be killed. He was discovered by Pharaoh’s daughter and raised as an Egyptian in the palace. But time came to shed that shell and reclaim his people, so that he might be ready to lead the oppressed Hebrews out of Egypt and into the Promised Land. God grew him into a great leader, but not before his old self was shed away.

How about you? Where is God calling you to shed something so that he can grow you into the person he is calling you to be? How about your attitudes? In this politically divisive society, many of us are walking around in hard shells of “I’m right and you’re wrong.” We have settled into the mucky bottom, entrenched in our positions, encased in a shell of self righteousness. God can’t use that. The harder you become, the harder it will be for you to be of any use in the kingdom. And for what? This present darkness will eventually pass in our lifetime. Will your vitriol be worth it in the end? Where do you want to be when the shouting is over? It’s time to shed that shell of hardness toward you neighbor and embody Christ’s peace to the world.

The harvest time is short. We have one brief moment on this planet to either work from a stance of love or a stance of hate. To either build up, or tear down. God is reaching down into the shedder and calling us to leave behind all the nasty posts, the divisive memes, the snappy retorts, and grow the heck up.

The Harvest Is Plentiful, the Laborers Few

35 And Jesus went throughout all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom and healing every disease and every affliction. 36 When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. 37 Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; 38 therefore pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.”

You are invited today to become a laborer with Christ, and be a witness to peace, compassion and healing. God calls us to speak words of love into a harassed and helpless world. It’s time to shed anything in your spirit that keeps you from this call. The time is ripe; don’t miss it.

This is what my neighbor heard me say as he opened the door at my knock. I had just had a very loud and impressive tire blow-out on the way to the airport. Fortunately, it did not happen on a five-lane Virginia highway, nor our congested 50MPH Bypass, or worse, the Wright Brothers Memorial Bridge. It happened after I turned around because my car had started to shimmy, and my daughter and I decided to go back and get the truck so we could drop the car at the repair place. We didn’t know what was wrong, but something obviously was wrong. So it happened as I turned onto my own street.

My neighbor quickly grabbed his tools, his jack, and his work assistant, and in less than half an hour my spare was on the car and we were on our way to the repair shop. A second neighbor stopped to offer help, and there were at least three others on the street that I felt that I could have called on.

The tire repair guy listened to my story and told me I should go and buy a lottery ticket, since I was having such a lucky day. (That’s how bad a breakdown on the bridge is: if your tire explodes anywhere else, it’s a lucky day). We laughed and joked a little more, and without correcting him, I told him I thought I was very blessed. There is a difference.

Luck is success or failure apparently brought by chance, rather than through one’s own actions. It is arbitrary, a happenstance, something that randomly occurs with no predictably or pattern. Blessings are the purview of a gracious and giving God. There is a deliberateness to his action. He is consistent. He is always working for our good, and is generous in his blessings. And sometimes they come in disguise.

My biggest blessing today, not counting the fact that I didn’t blow out the BRIDGE, is the kindness of my neighbors. I am blessed with good neighbors. In so many places in the world today, communities live in groups of strangers. Neighbors don’t know each other’s names. There is no interest in exchanging more than a compulsory nod of the head when passing on the street.

God has blessed me by placing me on a street where I am known and cared for. I can’t walk my dog down the street without people coming out to give her a treat….which is counter productive to the reason why we are walking…but how can I deny her the blessing from her neighbor?

Jesus once explained the neighborliness of being a good neighbor. It is interesting to note that it was in response to a question about how to receive eternal life.

Luke 10:30-37 “There was once a man traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho. On the way he was attacked by robbers. They took his clothes, beat him up, and went off leaving him half-dead. Luckily, a priest was on his way down the same road, but when he saw him he angled across to the other side. Then a Levite religious man showed up; he also avoided the injured man.

“A Samaritan traveling the road came on him. When he saw the man’s condition, his heart went out to him. He gave him first aid, disinfecting and bandaging his wounds. Then he lifted him onto his donkey, led him to an inn, and made him comfortable. In the morning he took out two silver coins and gave them to the innkeeper, saying, ‘Take good care of him. If it costs any more, put it on my bill—I’ll pay you on my way back.’

“What do you think? Which of the three became a neighbor to the man attacked by robbers?”

“The one who treated him kindly,” the religion scholar responded.

Jesus said, “Go and do the same.”

Want eternal life? Love God with all your heart, mind, soul and strength, and love your neighbor as yourself. So go out of your way today to be a good neighbor. Smile. Wave. Learn somebody’s name. Be friendly, take a casserole, weed a flower bed, or be someone’s hero. Good neighbors are a blessing, so go be one.

And good news, Outrigger Drive; you’re going to heaven, based on dog treats and blown tires alone.

Every time I go to the hairdresser, I learn something new. The conversation at my salon yesterday revolved around “automatic thoughts”. These are unbidden images or words that flash into your mind in a seemingly random occurrence. One person described having an automatic thought on the way to work as she was driving. She instantly “saw” a big wreck where she watched herself running to a burning car to help. Anyone who has ever driven the Bypass in the Outer Banks on a Saturday in the summer can relate to this sudden image while driving. It’s dangerous out there, folks!

Automatic thoughts can be negative or positive. I find in times of great concentration or stress that my mind will conveniently supply an automatic thought of someplace I’d rather be. Suddenly I’ll flash on walking around the lake in a beautiful town called Celebration in Florida, or seeing a botanical display at the Bellagio in Las Vegas. Those images will creep up without warning, giving me a 5 second respite from my work. When automatic thoughts are negative and related to emotional triggers, they can be problematic. Help can be found in working with a cognitive therapist to untangle the auto response. In the case of the car wreck image, it made the person drive more carefully and be alert to other drivers, which is a good thing.

I have always longed for a way to help people develop an automatic thought response that brings the peace, hope and contentment that they lack. That is why I began writing these devotionals. When folks are in a deep hole of despair, the stress of their situation only pulls them farther and farther down. It is in times like these that the automatic thoughts can be most harmful. Sad, hopeless and despondent thoughts just continue to spiral in times of trouble. I want to be able to help them manufacture a positive automatic response that would focus on thoughts that uplift, and rebuke the darkness.

I often wonder if that was what the Psalmists were doing. The Psalms were written as songs for the journey. They describe great challenges, intense pain, and life threatening situations, but they are balanced with great anticipation of God’s activity and presence. The positive images far outweigh the negative, serving as point-counter-point to the dark. Look at Psalm 23, one of the most beloved Psalms:

The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.

He makes me lie down in green pastures,

he leads me beside quiet waters,

he refreshes my soul.

He guides me along the right paths

    for his name’s sake.

Even though I walk

    through the darkest valley,

I will fear no evil,

    for you are with me;

your rod and your staff,

    they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me

    in the presence of my enemies.

You anoint my head with oil;

    my cup overflows.

Surely your goodness and love will follow me

    all the days of my life,

and I will dwell in the house of the Lord

    forever.

David wrote that, and David had trouble. Most of it was a result of his own activity, but he had trouble indeed. And yet in his darkest moment, he forced himself to counter his trouble with a positive auto response and wrote “Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, FOR YOU ARE WITH ME.”

Today, let’s try to create an auto response like David. When the negative thoughts try to intrude, say back to them, “GOD IS WITH ME.” When bad images flash unbidden in your mind, shake them off and say, “GOD IS WITH ME.” If you feel yourself slipping into the deep, stand up and yell, “GOD IS WITH ME.”

Go in peace. God is with you.

Photo by Kathy Weeks.

Imagine the scene. I am walking down the aisles in the local Kroger, minding my own business. It is early September many years ago, and I have ten thousand things running through my brain as I shop. “Get broccoli/what time is that meeting tomorrow/don’t forget cream cheese/need to work on my sermon tonight”…and BAM. I am suddenly in the Little Debbie snack aisle, and my unconscious brain is chanting, “Oatmeal Creams for Jamie, Swiss Rolls for Sarah”.

I stop my cart to search for these items, and suddenly I am overwhelmed with a tidal wave of grief. I literally burst into tears as I realize that there are no kids at my house that require stocking up on school lunch items anymore. My youngest has just joined her sister at college, and I am….wait for it…..an EMPTY NESTER. Lord, I detest that label.

These life transitions for parents can be extraordinarily painful. The journey from preschool to Kindergarten, (oh my gosh, the bus with the big kids? NO!) then leaving the security of Elementary School for the wildness of Middle School, (Lord, have mercy!) through High School, (ride that river of denial!) to college, (which goes so fast, it actually lasts 2.3 months in mom-time) is hard.

Then they have the nerve to leave home forever to start a career, marry someone, and live in another state…..had I fully understood that having children would be a series of letting go that gets harder each time, I might have just skipped over having kids and gone right to being a Nana. Oh, wait…

This time of year brings back all those tender ‘see-ya’s’ and ‘come home soons’. I’m watching parents of seniors every Sunday as they move slowly into the reality of their impending September. It’s like watching a car wreck in slow motion. I see the impact coming, I want to warn them away, but I can’t stop looking, and I can’t do anything to help them.

And they are sitting on the same pew as a man who is desperately gripping the back of the pew in front of him, hoping to remain standing on the first Sunday in 61 years that his wife will no longer be sitting beside him. Across the aisle is a young mother soothing her two young children and wondering how in the world they will survive her husband’s sudden and abrupt departure from their marriage and their home. I see the woman behind her tearing up at the mention of losing a loved one; it is the seventh anniversary of her father’s death.

Everyone has lost someone. Life is a process of saying goodbye to places, things, and people we love. Where can we go when our hearts are broken?

Psalm 147

The Psalmist makes a bold and life-sustaining claim that the God who ORDERED THE NUMBER OF STARS IN THE SKY sees your hurt and knows your pain.

What does that mean to you today? We are invited to take every wound to Jesus, the Wounded Healer. He will bind up those wounds and gather you up, no matter what exile or desert you are walking through.

This may actually be the greatest power of the incarnation. By becoming human, God as Jesus walked the painful paths that we walk. He experienced hurt and his heart was also broken. He watched Judas betray him and then he himself left people he loved. He GETS IT. He GETS US. Glory to God, we are known and understood by our great and powerful God.

And parents of seniors, you’ll get through it. And soon enough it will be December and they’ll be back with a ton of stories, experiences, and lots of dirty laundry.

Letting Go by Brian Moore.

For a period of five years when I lived in Georgia, I did weekly jail visitations. It began when a teenage member of my congregation shot and killed his friend during a game of “Russian Roulette” with a new gun he had just purchased off the street. His mother implored me to visit him, and thus began five years of weekly visits that also brought other inmates into my life. The guards knew I would come every Monday, and they often greeted me with a list of inmates who had requested a clergy visit. Some weeks I sat in the window-encased attorney/clergy room for five to six hours, listening, praying and serving where the Lord had called me. It was challenging, awful, inspiring and exhausting.

I suppose that is why I love the prison stories in the scriptures. One of the most dramatic stories is found in the book of Acts. Paul and Silas found themselves thrown in prison in Rome because they deprived slave owners of their potential income. You see, these men owned a slave who was a psychic, and made money for them by telling fortunes. When Paul cast the demon from her, they lost their income, so they had Paul and Silas beaten and arrested for disturbing the peace.

What happens next is a Netflix-worthy sequence of events. They spent the night singing hymns and praying, and then God caused an earthquake to open up all the jail doors. The poor jailer woke up, and thinking they had all escaped, almost took his own life. But Paul prevents this, and the jailer took them to his home to tell his family about the Lord.

Acts 16:31-33 “Then Paul and Silas told him and everyone else in his house about the Lord. While it was still night, the jailer took them to a place where he could wash their cuts and bruises. Then he and everyone in his home were baptized. They were very glad that they had put their faith in God. After this, the jailer took Paul and Silas to his home and gave them something to eat.”

It strikes me that perhaps the jailer had been the most imprisoned of them all. His lack of faith was a prison. His fear of reprisal by his superiors (to the extent that he would kill himself rather than be killed) was a jail. The entire oppressive Roman system was a jail. But Christ set him free.

How about you this morning? Are you free? We have a tendency to lock ourselves in prisons of our own making, especially if you are a Grudge Holder. Grudge Holders can live in a bleak cell of self-grudge-righteousness that is a very dark stronghold. It manifests itself in the constant replaying of the injury or betrayal that led to the grudge’s formation. The tape plays over and over in the Grudge Holder’s mind in a continuous loop, at the expense of joy and peace. And worse yet, the person who caused the harm has most likely moved on and hasn’t given you a second thought.

A former Nazi prison camp survivor named Corrie Ten Boom once said,

“To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner was you.“

God can open any prison door…….if we just let him. He longs to set you free from yourself. The message today is to be like Paul and Silas, and sing and pray yourself out of your jail. Our communion liturgy reminds us of this truth:

Holy are you, and blessed is your Son Jesus Christ.
Your Spirit anointed him
       to preach good news to the poor,
      to proclaim release to the captives
          and recovering of sight to the blind,
       to set at liberty those who are oppressed,
       and to announce that the time had come
          when you would save your people.

The time has come. Set us free, King Jesus.

Photo by Michelle Robertson.

Confidence and strength flood the hearts of the lovers of God who live in awe of Him, and their devotion provides their children with a place of shelter and security. (Proverbs 14:6)

Speaking of priorities…this proverb speaks volumes about a parent’s influence on a child’s spiritual and emotional development. I often think of the children in the churches I have served, and what a blessing it is to watch them grow up in the church. These kids have troubles, for certain, but they have a place to take their troubles, and that makes all the difference.

There was a time in our distant past when recreation departments and schools honored a family’s need for church. Dance, athletics, cheerleading, etc. never took place on Sunday mornings or Wednesday evenings. Society politely reserved these times for church participation. But no more.

I ran into a colleague from my former church last month. We had worked together on a Wednesday evening children’s program that brought hundreds of kids and their families to church every week. On our other campus, hundreds of Middle Schoolers attended their weekly youth group gathering. Both of those programs no longer meet on Wednesdays due to lack of weekday availability of families.

I heard a wonderful speaker at a conference who identified a parenting problem she called “the Monster of NOT ENOUGH”. She explained that this monster grows in the brains of expectant parents and continues to grow in size and importance as the child grows up. NOT ENOUGH whispers in a mother’s ear, convincing her that her attempts to raise and nurture her child are not enough. NOT ENOUGH speaks to a father every day, pushing him to push his kids into activities and programs that will supposedly help them deal with life issues. (“But it’s a team sport! They need to learn teamwork!”)

Unfortunately, over-scheduling our children into multiple activities and sports ends up being NOT ENOUGH to foster their spiritual walk of discipleship.

I once knew a family who was active in their faith and loyal to their church. The raised two little boys and brought them to Sunday School, children’s ministry events, and worship every week. But at some point, they decided this was not enough, so they began to sign the boys up for every possible soccer team available. It started with a seasonal soccer program that expanded to soccer camps, away soccer teams, lightening soccer, year round elite soccer….it was a soccerpalooza. We began to see less and less of this family in church.

I asked the mom where they had been one rare Sunday when I saw her in church, and she recounted tournaments and games that required weekend travel. She felt a little defensive, and explained that the boys were so gifted in soccer, they were sure to get college scholarships, and maybe even go Pro someday!

Guess what? They didn’t get scholarships, and they no longer play soccer. And as young adults on their own now, they no longer go to church, either. Their parents taught them that church wasn’t important, so why go?

Shelter and security come from a parent’s devotion to God . Teaching our kids to love Jesus, to go to Jesus when we are troubled, to pray daily, and to turn to scripture for answers are life-long lessons that will stay with them years after the last soccer practice is over. As parents, we will always struggle with feeling that we are not enough for our kids. That is Satan’s lie in our ears. So whenever you hear the Monster of Not Enough, stick your fingers in your ears and loudly sing LALALALALALA.

And remember, Jesus IS ENOUGH. This parenting thing is a team sport! Churches have all kinds of teammates who are ready to help you. With God’s help, we can do this together. And it will be enough.

Of course your monster drinks coffee! But the brand you buy is not enough!

It is hard to act like a local when you first arrive in a new place. Ten years ago, after just moving to the Outer Banks from the Atlanta area, I took on the task of trying to blend into the culture. Part of it was that teenage desire to just fit in; part was an effort to make myself approachable to people in this new community. It was a bit of a learning curve for me. My stiletto heels were replaced with flip flops, my skirts got packed away to make room in my drawers for capris, and I actually allowed myself to order a glass of wine in a restaurant instead of pretending I don’t drink wine, like I did in Georgia for twenty years. There were downsides and upsides to this becoming a local thing!

One custom that seemed strange to me is that locals drop their flip flops at the entrance to the beach access in order to walk on the sand. Walking barefoot in the sand is much easier than flipping sand up the back of your legs, so that part I understood. But having been raised in suburban New Jersey by a father that was extremely paranoid that everything we owned was fodder for thieves, I was uncomfortable leaving my dollar store flip flops by the dune fence and actually walking away from them. I said to my local walking companion, “Are you sure they’ll still be here when we get back?” And she flat out laughed at me. She picked up my oversized pink flip flop with the dog teeth marks in them from when my lab was a puppy and chewed EVERYTHING, and said, “Who would want these?” Still, I was prepared to drive home barefooted.

Last month I was stuck in a beach rental while septic repairs were taking an epically long time to complete. (we’ll talk about “island time” another day, but suffice it to say that if a worker says a job will take 3 days he means 3 weeks). The upside was that I got to walk my dog on the beach every morning, leaving my flip flops at the dune fence like all good locals do.

Now these flip flops are quite a treasure. My husband brought them home from a trip to Brazil. An airport station manager gave them to him as a gift of friendship. They are green and yellow, and have the Brazilian flag on the side. I like them because my husband, who is an airline pilot, makes friends all over the world, and this man was celebrating his friendship with him with this treasured pair of flip flops with his country’s flag.

I left the beach house to attend a 3 day seminar in Atlanta, so on the day I returned, I looked all over the cottage for my flip flops so we could walk across the street to the beach. No flip flops. I knew the dog sitter would not have used them, I knew I hadn’t packed them, (one would NEVER wear green and yellow flip flops in ATL!) so I looked everywhere in the cottage and the car. Finally it dawned on me that 5 days earlier I had walked the beach with Georgia, and they might still be there.

And they were. I am sure my Dad (in heaven) was surprised that nobody had stolen them, but my Father in Heaven was not. Had I left a diamond necklace there, it would have been gone, but nobody would treasure that old pair of flip flops the way I do.

Matthew 6:21 says, “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” I treasure these unattractive green and yellow flip flops because they remind me of what a great guy I married. Others passed them by because 1. They are green and yellow and 2. Local culture respects each other’s property, at least each other’s flip flops left at the dune fence, and 3. Did I mention they are green and yellow?

What do you treasure? Think about how you spend your time, your attention and your money. If you say you treasure God, your family, and your relationships but spend most of your time on your electronics or binge watching Game of Thrones, your treasure and your heart don’t match up with your priorities. Priorities and how we actually spend our time starkly reveals what we really treasure. But priorities can change.

Today is a new day to realign your priorities with what you really treasure. Matching treasures, heart and TIME is a way to find real peace. Are you out of balance? Put the phone/iPad/laptop down, and go fix it. Every day is a new day to get it right.

Photo by Shannon Blosser.

Want to know Jesus more? Talk to a three-year-old. The study of theology should include a mandatory class on how three-year-olds experience God. All of the books, commentaries, studies, and wise masters of thought can’t hold a candle to the simple observation of these tiny theologians.

I have been in the presence of one for a week, and it puts my seminary years to shame. And to the test. Yesterday we came upon a dead bird on the street on our walk. My alarm bells instantly went off. Danger, danger, warning, Will Robinson!! You’re going to have to explain death in a minute! Sure enough:

Connor: What’s that?

Me: Oh, that’s a dead bird, Sweetie.

Connor: How did it die?

Me: It looks like maybe it fell out of its nest. (Or was attacked and dropped by a larger predator bird….edit…yeah, it fell out.)

Connor: Will it wake up?

This is when my sweating turned to praying. The concept of death is a terrible struggle for an adult, much less a concrete, literal thinker who has only been on the planet for 36 months.

Me: No, Sweetie, it won’t.

Connor: Then where will it go?

AHA! Something I know about! Here is a chance to talk to this boy about heaven! Eternal Life! The power of God! The hope! Something I can explain!

Me: It will go to heaven and live with Jesus.

Connor: How will it get there?

Me: (hoping that by tomorrow the bird will have been removed) God will take it there.

Connor: But how can God lift it up?

Enough with the concrete thinking, young man. We live by faith, not by sight! Boy, was he putting my schooling to the test….and then I remembered a song he had just sung at his Pre School end-of-year program. Thanking God for all things Presbyterian, I said:

Me: Remember the song you just sang at Pre School?

Connor: Yes!

He started to sing “What a Mighty God We Serve.” I started to breathe again.

Me: So God is mighty enough to take the bird up to heaven.

Connor: Can God lift up a bird?

Me: Yes.

Connor: Can God lift up a bush?

Me: Yes.

Connor: Can God lift up a boat?

Me: Yes.

Connor: But God can’t lift up a cactus.

Me: Why not?

Connor: Because he will get a pokey poke.

Me: Its OK, God is stronger than a pokey poke.

We then worked through how God can lift up houses, helicopters and sharks, even though they bite.

Connor was silent for a moment and then said, “I think the Mommy bird will be very sad.” The sweetness of this response still stings me at the back of my eyes. Yes, all mommies are very sad if they lose their little birds.

I guess the point of all of this is to say to you today, GOD IS A MIGHTY GOD. He is strong and caring. He doesn’t sleep because he is so busy taking care of you. (That was this morning’s conversation.) And no matter where life is giving you a major pokey poke, God is even bigger than that.

“God stretches the northern sky over empty space and hangs the earth on nothing. He wraps the rain in his thick clouds, and the clouds don’t burst with the weight. He covers the face of the moon, shrouding it with his clouds. He created the horizon when he separated the waters: he set the boundary between day and night. The foundations of heaven tremble; they shudder at his rebuke. By his power the sea grew calm. By his skill he crushed the great sea monster. His Spirit made the heavens beautiful, and his power pierced the gliding serpent. These are just the beginning of all that he does, merely a whisper of his power. Who, then, can comprehend the thunder of his power?” Job 26:7-14

Photo by Michelle Robertson.

Galatians 5:13 “It is absolutely clear that God has called you to a free life. Just make sure that you don’t use this freedom as an excuse to do whatever you want to do and destroy your freedom. Rather, use your freedom to serve one another in love; that’s how freedom grows. For everything we know about God’s Word is summed up in a single sentence: Love others as you love yourself. That’s an act of true freedom. If you bite and ravage each other, watch out—in no time at all you will be annihilating each other, and where will your precious freedom be then?“

Today we will gather around picnic tables groaning with hamburgers, hot dogs, chips, watermelon and apple pie (OK, that’s what I’m serving; how about you?) as we experience another day of freedom. Today’s cook-out is brought to you by the men and women who won’t be feasting with us today. But we remember them.

Remembering is a sacred act. Remembering gives voice and life to the dead, and adds dimension to the living. Remembering is what keeps people centered on the reality of the cost of things. The well worn cliche, “Freedom isn’t free” is at the center of our remembrance. Freedom costs the lives of millions in order for the lives of millions of others to continue.

We are a Navy family. From my father-in-law’s 30 years of service, to my husband, who was a Navy pilot, to my son-in-law and niece who are currently active duty, our family serves. Freedom is hard won for many families. It is our privilege.

I was blessed with the sacred opportunity to officiate at the funeral of a Navy Captain who was buried in Arlington National Cemetary. Dan Kohl was a friend, a leader, a mentor, a guy with a great sense of humor, and a man who loved his country. He was an influencer in my life who taught me how to stand in front of people and lead them. The subject at the time was learning how to be a Drum Major. The life lesson also applied to one day learning how to be a pastor.

As we walked the mile from the chapel to the columbarium, following the band down the hill with the caisson rolling behind us, the solemnity of the still and perfectly aligned white stones was overwhelming. I was engulfed in the silence of the men and women entombed there, who gave their lives in the cause of freedom. I spotted Christian Crosses, Jewish Stars of David, Muslim Crescents, and symbols I couldn’t identify. Other stones were blank. In all, there are 60 different religions represented at Arlington. There is so much diversity in the unity of their singular cause: peace in our land, and freedom.

Our scripture today celebrates the freedom we have in Christ. Freedom from sin and death are the gifts offered to us at the cross. We weren’t offered this freedom for superficial indulgences, for wasteful living, or squandering away our time and our abilities, but rather for a purpose: to serve one another in love.

To serve one another in love….what a tremendous calling! What a sacred responsibility. Imagine if you could live a life worthy of having that engraved on your white stone: “She served everyone in love.”

What can you do this Memorial Day to rise to the challenge of the Galatians? What single act, or life altering change, can you make this day that will impact someone you know with transformative love? Where is God calling YOU to be an influencer to a young woman or man? To love your neighbor?

It is sometimes in the ordinariness of life that our legacies unfold. It is in that random place of stepping up, volunteering to work with squirrelly teenagers, offering a word of encouragement to a beaten down coworker, writing a check that keeps someone’s lights on….these moments define us, and they also define others. When you choose to humbly serve those around you with love, you choose the Christ-way.

So go and celebrate your freedom by making in difference in someone’s life. Your legacy might just be the defining moment in theirs. Do this in remembrance of someone you never knew, who died for your freedom to love.

I remember you, Captain.

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