What I learned, or have been reminded of, while watching an expectant giraffe!

          A few weeks ago or maybe a month, I like many others tuned in to watch April, the giraffe, have her baby.  I watched steadily throughout a couple of days as if she were going to give birth any moment.  Well, just in case you are not one of the many keeping tabs on April—she has NOT had her baby yet.

          Now the truth is that I stopped watching with such devotion, much like The Voice, the idea is good but I can’t commit to that much time.  But I did check in every once in a while, there was something soothing about watching this giraffe in the midst chaotic times.  I paid little attention to the conversations, rather I simply breathed and watched April’s stomach—silly I know…but if I am silly so are hundreds of others.  

            The conversations of the “others” would float by the bottom of my screen and honestly, amidst the hellos and goodbyes, what all I really noticed were the arguments of whether giraffes laid eggs.  Yes this was the reason I avoided the comments—that was until March 22^nd, the day of the attacks in Westminster, London. 

            On that day, as I stopped on April’s video, I saw all the comments were from people praying for London.  Not only were they praying for a country but I could see that there were words of comfort to people they had come to know who were living in London.  Suddenly I saw the conversations were not simply between strangers but there was a community that had formed. 

            Everything was set in a different perspective, the same way as when the vet walks in next to the giraffe, lest we forget her size, the very thing that makes her unique. I saw that there were people from all over the world talking to each other, all while watching a giraffe. 

            So here are some things I have learned from this community, mind you I am still the occasional observer, but now I pay as much attention to the people as to April. 

1.      People all over the world

          Hate time change

          Get up and have coffee or tea

          Bring their children to school.

          Share recipes

          Can stand up against bias remarks without anger but rather by asking them not to talk that way, it hurts my feelings—which leads to

2.       People all over the world

          Say “I’m sorry.”

          Love their pets

          Make assumptions

          Stay up too late

          Worry that the mouse in the corner is really a rat (as if a mouse isn’t bad enough)        

3.       People all over the world

           Are looking for community

           Find joy in the ordinary

           Can find ways to cross the imaginary boundaries set between them.

           Find common ground as they pray for each other and each other’s family.

      Recently I have noticed that some of the people have begun to prepare themselves for saying good-bye—because even though it seems like April will never have this baby—she will.  Some have set up private groups on Facebook, the chefs and pet lovers, the night owls and care takers, they will break off into smaller groups and the truth is without April, I wonder how long they will last, or even if they are meant to.

      It is ironic to me as a pastor that this international time of waiting is happening during Lent.  For me this is a time of waiting, paying attention, listening, seeing and looking for what God has in store for me, and the community of faith I am connected to. 

      This is the time when the days grow longer and the sun feels warmer and we would love to have spring rush in; all hope cannot erase the need to wait. 

I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits,
    and in his word I put my hope.
⁶ I wait for the Lord
    more than watchmen wait for the morning,
    more than watchmen wait for the morning.

Psalm 130:5-6

A DNA connection--the great dust rising of God.

We are walking dust

       On Wednesday I spent about 10 hours watching candles grow dim and my finger turn black with dust.  Ash Wednesday is a powerful day for me as I wipe ashes along smooth foreheads, foreheads lined with the wrinkles of life and foreheads that are covered by wisps of hair.  I am always amazed by the intimacy of reciting these words as I make the shape of the cross; “From dust you were born and to dust you shall return.” Gen. 3:19

            I am not sure if it is speaking the truth of our humanity that makes me feel so close to tears or it is the humanity of Christ.  This is our beginning act of Lent, traditionally a time to prepare for baptism into the body of Christ.

            I imagine God breathing life into the dust; my life into dust!  I also imagine this dust coming from more than the gardens and dirt roads of Holliston Mass.  I like to think of my dust coming from the places of the ancestors I know; from Sweden and England, as well as the ancestors I don’t know.  What if my dust was from the Continents of Asia and Africa?  What if my dust included Armenian dust, dust I absorbed from a couple I adored who fed me beregs, homemade rice pilaf and wisdom? 

            What if all of us were dust gathered from a cyclone like event?  What if the dust of the ocean sands and salt of the seas and the planets in the sky were swirling in us, and shedding off of us?  (Of course this may be TMI; we really do leave our own dust behind.)

            People are spending a lot of money to have their DNA tested to connect them to their past.  What is this sudden interest and need?  As the world becomes smaller through technology, it may be that we too have insight to the “others” we are connected to, the great dust rising of God.

            From dust we were born and to dust we shall return.  These are the hard words, the truth of returning to dust.  But where will my dust go?  Will bits of my smile land with others that look like me in Sweden? Will bits of my hope land on a child in Syria, a child that looks nothing like me but is just like me in breath? Will my dusty remains be part of new life? 

            Christ went into the desert preparing for what was ahead, preparing for the end of his humanity and the beginning of an eternal life.  This is lent, a time of preparation for something new, a time to see ourselves as the very breath of God.

“Breathe on me, Breath of God,
fill me with life anew,
that I may love what thou dost love,
and do what thou wouldst do.” 

UMH 420