Wednesday - February 15, 2023

SCRIPTURE  Philippians 4:10-13 How I praise the Lord that you are concerned about me again. I know you have always been concerned for me, but you didn’t have the chance to help me. Not that I was ever in need, for I have learned how to be content with whatever I have. I know how to live on almost nothing or with everything. I have learned the secret of living in every situation, whether it is with a full stomach or empty, with plenty or little. For I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength. WORDS OF HOPE Oprah Winfrey referenced this Scripture in a recent podcast interview with Keke Palmer. What she said literally stopped me in my tracks: “When I started school, and I didn’t even know who my father was at the time, I used to tell people, ‘Jesus is my daddy.’ I really grew up believing I could do all things because I was God’s child. And so, when I walked into the newsroom and I was the only Black woman there, I just assumed I was supposed to be there because God had made the way for that.” Oprah’s words made me pause because her life is a profound example of what Paul reveals to us in Philippians. If we allow ourselves to develop unshakeable confidence and contentment in God, nothing can stand in our way. Imagine what a difference this could make in your life. Imagine how this mindset could remake our communities, and even our world. I ‘m often caught up in what Buddhism describes as “earthly desires.” I logically understand that we all have inherent worth. Intrinsic happiness and peace can’t come from outside ourselves. Emotionally, though, a big part of me believes I’m only valuable if I’m doing things to please and help others, like writing a really poignant devotion for example. When I start spiraling down the earthly desires path, my goal is to remember that God is right there with me. No matter how bleak things may seem, and no matter how much we may want the external thing, God has already given us everything we need . When we choose to have a relationship with God, we can also choose to be happy in the present moment, no matter our circumstances. PRAYER I claim my unlimited power as a child of God and choose to be content right now, exactly as I am. Amen. DEVOTION AUTHOR Logan Alexander Johnson

SCRIPTURE  Mark 4.30-34 [Jesus] said, “What shall we say the kingdom of God is like, or what parable shall we use to describe it? It is like a mustard seed, which is the smallest of all seeds on earth. Yet when planted, it grows and becomes the largest of all garden plants, with such big branches that the birds can perch in its shade.” WORDS OF HOPE I grew up on a farm. Many years ago, the Dallas suburbs scattered on the edges of the city were usually farmland. My parents had a five-acre truck farm in one of those edges where we raised chickens, pheasants, guineas, turkeys, pigs, and used the rest of the land to rotate crops. One of those crops was mustard greens, to me, a dish that tasted even worse than it smelled. But it was high on many Texas families’ menu list in the 1950’s. I attended a small Presbyterian church not far from our farm and during one Sunday sermon, when I was actually paying attention, I heard the Parable of the mustard seed and the huge plant that grew from it. The mustard plant in the parable grew so large that birds could perch in its branches. This piqued my curiosity. What was the preacher talking about? Did mustard plants grow into trees in Jesus’ time? After church, I asked my father if the small bunches of mustard greens he hauled to Jack Evan’s produce department each week could grow as big as one of our pecan trees. “Not that big,” he replied, “but they can grow big enough to hold bird nests.” To prove the point, my mother gave me a single tiny mustard seed to plant in our back yard. Mustard plants grow quickly. A few weeks later it had become an enormous bush, and I did indeed see a cardinal take a break on an elephant ear-size leaf. “Why don’t we let the greens grow bigger like this one?” I asked my father. “We pick them when they are young and tender,” he answered. “A plant this big is tough and bitter. Even the pigs won’t eat it.” I couldn’t imagine the pigs lining up for the young and tender plants either, but what he said did inspire me to think about what Jesus could have been talking about in his mustard seed parable. The preacher had said that it was all about the growth of the church from a small pocket of followers in a small city to a major world-wide religion, but that seemed too simple of an interpretation. Jesus’ stories were not about growth and power, and the powerful leaders of his faith were among his greatest adversaries. People in Jesus’ day, himself among them, were much better informed than we are about agriculture. I think Jesus chose a mustard plant for a specific reason to make the parable a warning about the dangers of growing too large too quickly. It’s about a tender message of love losing its flavor and becoming tough and bitter. The early church was still a seed when Jesus told this story, but I believe he could foresee one of the inevitable paths it could take. Of course, Jesus was talking about the Realm (or Kingdom) of God, not just the organized church body the pastor read into the story. I believe that is something that continually grows inside each of us, but we can still learn from the mustard seed simile. Never lose sight of the seed of love that nurtures the growth of our spirits and never be counted among those who equate their faith with power, making it unpalatable and bitter. PRAYER Thank you for Jesus’ visions of eternal truths in terms of the Creation that surrounds us. May they always be the seeds from which our relationship with you continues to flourish and grow. DEVOTION AUTHOR Dan Peeler Order of St. Francis and St. Clare

SCRIPTURE Ephesians 6:10–18, The Inclusive Bible Finally, draw your strength from God, and from God’s powerful strength. Put on the full armor of God so that you can stand firm against the tactics of the devil. WORDS OF HOPE Buffalo Soldier Day.  I first heard the words "Buffalo Soldier" from Bob Marley. The first time I heard the song, it didn't come to me as history. It came as rhythm, as memory carried through music before it ever became a lesson in a classroom. Long before I knew who the Buffalo Soldiers were, the song invited me into a story that was larger and more complicated than I could have imagined. Music has a way of preserving stories that official histories sometimes overlook, reminding us that memory is carried not only in books and archives but also in voices, communities, and culture. As I began learning more, I found myself listening differently and asking deeper questions. I also found myself watching Peter Kater's documentary series How the West Was Lost. The title itself stayed with me. Growing up, I often heard people speak about how "the West was won," but the documentary invited me to consider another perspective. For many settlers, westward expansion represented opportunity and the fulfillment of a national dream. But for many Indigenous nations, it meant something profoundly different: the loss of homelands, broken treaties, forced removals, disrupted cultures, and generations of grief and resilience. The West was not simply won; for countless Indigenous communities, it was also lost. Holding those truths together has changed the way I read history. It has reminded me that faithfulness begins by listening to voices that history has too often pushed aside and by allowing our understanding to grow when we encounter stories we were never taught. Yet Buffalo Soldier Day also asks us to remember another story, one that cannot be separated from the first. Buffalo Soldiers served during westward expansion, where Indigenous nations—including the Apache, Cheyenne, Dakota, Nez Perce, Navajo, Modoc, Lakota, Utes, and many others—were defending their homelands, cultures, languages, and sacred relationships to the land. Holding these histories together is not easy, and perhaps it should not be. History is rarely neat. It rarely fits into categories of heroes and villains. More often, it reveals human beings trying to survive within systems far larger than themselves while those very systems continue to inflict profound harm on others. Black soldiers were not symbols; they were people navigating the difficult realities of a nation still shaped by racial injustice. Indigenous peoples were not background figures in the American story; they are sovereign nations whose histories, cultures, and voices continue today. To honor one story does not require erasing another. In fact, justice demands that we remember them together with honesty and humility. It reminds us that God is encountered not by ignoring history but by entering it truthfully. God does not ask us to sanitize the past or smooth over its contradictions. Instead, God calls us to listen carefully to those whose voices have too often been marginalized and to recognize that Scripture continually draws our attention toward the vulnerable, the oppressed, the stranger, and those pushed to the edges of society. From the Exodus to the prophets, from Mary's song of liberation to the ministry of Jesus, the biblical story repeatedly reveals a God who hears cries for justice and who invites people into the difficult work of repair, reconciliation, and hope. That work is never about creating new enemies. It is about confronting whatever diminishes God's image in another human being and participating in God's ongoing work of liberation. And the work is still not done. The work of telling the truth. The work of listening before speaking. The work of resisting the temptation to erase or oversimplify difficult histories. The work of building communities where dignity is shared, justice is pursued, and peace is rooted in truth. The work of becoming people who recognize God's image in every neighbor and who refuses to let fear, prejudice, or indifference have the final word. God's liberating work did not end with the Exodus, nor with the resurrection, nor with any single justice movement. The Spirit is still moving. The Gospel is still calling. And we are still invited to participate in the sacred work of liberation, reconciliation, and hope. PRAYER God of Exodus, God of the oppressed, God who still speaks- Hold us in the struggle for truth, shape us in the work of justice, and lead us toward a peace strong enough to carry history without denial. Amen DEVOTION AUTHOR Reed Kirkman

SCRIPTURE Ephesians 6.13-17 Therefore, take up the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to withstand on that evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm. Stand therefore, and fasten the belt of truth around your waist, and put on the breastplate of righteousness… With all of these, take the shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. WORDS OF HOPE Decades ago, I remember my grandmother sitting at her ancient Singer sewing machine, finishing one of the hundreds of little shirts she routinely made for a local Baptist Orphan’s Home, while quoting today’s reading from Ephesians to me. She loved the colorful symbolism and knew the word pictures would remind me of the brave Round Table knights and Sherwood Forest rebels whose adventures inspired my imagination in those days. Lancelot and Robin Hood never failed to douse the flaming arrows of the evil ones. She was also quick to remind me that the list of weapons was symbolic and what Paul was talking about was the power of the Word of God. She mentioned the Apostle Paul in a familiar tone, as if she had gone to high school with him. Observing her silver-gray hair, pulled back into a bun, I thought she probably had. Now, being about the same age she was then, I know she wasn’t that old after all, but her wisdom was. One example of her eternal wisdom was another observation she made about this passage. “You don’t have to go too far from home to watch out for those flaming arrows.” She was referring to her ongoing religious debates with her sister, my Aunt Nora, about how a good Christian should behave. Nora was our Presbyterian church’s self-appointed expert on proper religious tradition. (She was also the church gossip.) I overheard one of these sessions from another room once. I remember Nora lecturing my grandmother about not always standing up with the rest of the congregation during appointed times of the worship service. “I’m old, Nora,” was my grandmother’s only comment. “I don’t care how old you are,” Aunt Nora retaliated. “A good Christian always stands up!” My grandmother thought it over briefly and then casually replied. “Then why do you stand up?” I left the other room to avoid being discovered doubled over with laughter. Today, my grandmother’s words are still with me. There are more flaming arrows flying now than I can ever remember, filling the air, the airwaves, and social media with hateful words and accusations as to who a true Christian really is, but more frequently who isn’t. It takes the whole armor of God and sometimes even an old Singer sewing machine to remember the difference. PRAYER Thank you for the power of your words and the generations of your followers who have lived their lives by them. Amen DEVOTION AUTHOR Dan Peeler Order of St. Francis and St. Clare

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