Daily Devotions and Podcasts

SCRIPTURE  Proverbs 4: 25-26 Let your eyes look directly ahead and let your gaze be fixed straight in front of you. Watch the path of your feet and all your ways will be established. WORDS OF HOPE Never has this scripture been more meaningful than during my recent back injury. When leaving the hospital in a brace that strongly resembled gladiator armor, I was sternly warned I could neither turn left, right or bend down. In fact, I was told I should simply look forward and walk slowly so I didn’t fall. Maintaining that straight forward position was extremely uncomfortable. It didn’t matter if I was sitting, walking or whatever, the longer the brace stayed on the more cumbersome it became. Soon I was struggling to do anything except as suggested, just keep looking forward. My thoughts were running rampant with what I couldn’t do, where I couldn’t go and how long I would be in this gloom. I became so focused on unfinished projects, what needed attention and what I should be doing instead of just “being in the moment”. Then it hit me, what a metaphor of my life as I sat there at my desk, being forced to “only” look forward! The most precious gift we are given is free will, which allows us to change our thoughts. Ultimately the choice is mine to look back on what was, be afraid of what might be, or look forward to possibilities. God didn’t build those walls of fear, I did. The Great Wall of China was built out of fear. Its fortress was so high and thick no one could ever knock it down or climb over it. Ironically, the few times they were invaded, someone bribed the gatekeeper and the opposing army simply marched through the open gates. I had let distractions take my eyes away from being at peace and stopped looking forward. It was time to remember; I can’t plow a straight line while focused on what’s behind me. PRAYER God of peace, thank you for allowing the brokenness to become a vessel of gratefulness, for free will and the promise of everlasting love…Amen DEVOTION AUTHOR Donna Jackson

SCRIPTURE  Luke 10:29 And who is my neighbor? WORDS OF HOPE It’s Sunday morning, so Sage and I are taking an early, early walk. Though it’s no longer dark, the clouds are just barely tinged with rose blush. As we turn east and pass one house after another, those who live there come to mind—the young woman in dental school and her house mate, the couple with a 3-year-old autistic son, a retired veteran with mobility challenges who grieves the death of his beloved German shepherd. Though Sage is a curious dog and friendly with most everyone, she has her favorite neighbors, so she tugs me toward the house across the street where a family--husband, wife, and adult son—abide. Last year they started a lawn and clean up service and are some of the hardest working people I know. Sage is hoping for a belly rub or scruff of her fur before they go off to work, but they are not out yet, hopefully still enjoying a well-deserved rest. As we come to the end of the block, an ache fills my chest. Though the light is on, no Sarah sits on the front porch enjoying the morning and no Keith engages us with his stories. Nor does Osso, their deaf yellow lab, voice his defense of the house as we come by. When Keith told me they were moving about month ago, it was like a kick in the gut. I really miss them. Keith’s warmth and willingness to chat draws people out. Over time we talked of his prize- winning barbeque sauce recipe, his former job filming Dallas Cowboy games for a local TV station, being at the lake, families, and much more. We’ve exchanged fresh tomatoes from his garden and peaches from my favorite orchard in East Texas, and recently he shared a delicious Mexican casserole he made. Once, when Sage’s legs hurt too much to walk any more, he stayed with her while I got the car and took her home. No politics, though, except for one day we slid that way unknowingly when he named the downtown church they attend—one which preaches hatred for gay people. I winced inside, but with this gracious, caring couple---well, that hatred just didn’t stick. Every morning and evening I still sense the emptiness of where they would have been. Grief over neighbors who have moved away is one of the many types of unattended sorrow we carry. I am so grateful for my good neighbors and this morning I hear the ancient question: Who is my neighbor? The answer expands in concentric circles wider and wider. My neighbor is the unhoused woman in a black hijab who takes shelter near the QT, the chatty clerk at Tom Thumb, the irritating solicitors who ignore “no solicitation” signs, the crews tearing up our streets for a city project, but who at the end of a hard day pause to play with Sage. My neighbor is a sister grieving her brother Lindsey Graham and the advocates working passionately to secure safe medical care for women in anti-abortion states. Neighbors are Israelis and Palestinians both carrying ancient wounds, the starving people in the Sudan and the ebola nurses seeking to save lives in Eastern Congo. My neighbor is the great Pacific octopus and the grizzly bear feasting on salmon. Starburst and black holes, neighbors of the universe, all God’s creation. PRAYER God of all creation, expand our hearts and minds to embrace the universe of our neighbors until we can say, with John Donne: No one is alien to me. Amen. DEVOTION AUTHOR Dr. Pat Saxon