A Good Dowser: The Second Sunday of Advent

[For those of you who checked in earlier this week, I made a mistake. The upcoming youth ministry discussion on "The Truman Show" is slated for the Third Sunday of Advent, not the Second. My apologies. Below you'll find the first draft of a homily that has nothing to do with Truman, but a lot to do with water. E-mail me your comments at jms48@fuse.net net. Thanks!]


HOMILY FOR THE SECOND SUNDAY OF ADVENT (first draft)

A few months ago I attended the funeral
of an elderly farmer in Texas.

As most of you know,
water is scarce out West
and rain is minimal.
It’s not uncommon, for instance,
to stand at the door of the church after Mass
and hear farmers ask one another
how many “hundreds of an inch” of rain
did they get from a passing shower.

Well, the farmer whose funeral I attended
had a job on the side.
People far and wide sought out Mr. Birkenfeld
to perform a valuable service for them.

He was born with a special gift, you see.
He was what they call a dowser, that is,
he had the ability to locate underground veins of water.

You’ve probably heard of people who could detect water
with the use of a green branch from a willow tree.
In Texas, where aren’t many trees,
Mr. Birkenfeld discovered he could detect water
with the use of some baling wire.

He was good at finding water.
He had “the gift.”

I thought of him as I read about John the Baptist
in today’s gospel
going out into the broken country,
and locating a stream of water.

For John the Baptist also had “a gift.”
A gift for detecting a valuable resource
that lay hidden beneath the broken surface
of parched souls:
the desire of every soul
to drink deeply from the well of God’s grace
and gulp the cool mercy of God
when life turns into a desert and your fields and your dreams
blow away like dust in the wind.

When our lives get desperate for God,
we go looking for someone with “the gift,”
we ask around; we try to locate someone
who might know the name
of a good dowser.

So, who do you go to?

Let’s say you’re retired and you’ve lost your spouse.
Maybe you play a little golf. Maybe you belong to a card club.
But you worry about the cost of your prescriptions.
You wonder how long you’ll be able to manage on your own.

You can’t bring yourself to talk to your kids about this.
So, where do you go?

You’re moving into a desert of broken land and rough terrain.
Where do you go to find a dowser?

Or what this:

Let’s say you’re a student in college.
You’re racking up a huge debt in tuition payments.
You’ve been going to too many parties on the weekends
and during the week.
You’ve become sexually active,
you can’t afford the insurance on your car,
nothing in life holds any meaning
and you have no idea of what you want to be when you grow up.

You what the Bible calls a messed up apartment
with a refrigerator empty except for a case of Bud Light
and two cups of yogurt?

The Bible designates that sort of climate
as a desert climate,
even though your landlord
might still be paying the water bill,
you’re living in spiritual desert.

When you don’t wipe the steam off the bathroom mirror
in the morning
because you can’t look yourself in the eye,
what do you do?
Where do you go?

We all have experiences with deserts of one sort or another.
What’s truly troublesome, however,
is when you can’t locate a dowser.

Try as you might,
you look around at the dry land, the blowing dust
and you have absolutely no idea
where to sink a well.
In fact, there’s a little voice inside your head
trying to convince you that there is no water beneath this broken land.
You might as well give up
and get used to getting by on nothing but beer and yogurt.

Yep, that’s right.
The rest of your life you’ll be drinking warm beer
and licking Dannon containers.

When you start thinking like this,
it’s called despair.
And giving in to despair is a serious sin.
It’s a sin against the Holy Spirit
which was given to you on the day of your baptism.

That’s when you need a dowser.

It doesn’t matter if you 22 or 82.

If you’ve been trudging along
in a spiritual desert for any length of time,
the sin of despairt,
that is the act of giving in and giving up hope,
is fatal.

It stalks the elderly
when they start to feel as though no one gives a rip about them
and they have no idea
how to make it through a desert in a wheelchair.
The horizon is a waving mirage
of medicine bottles on a kitchen counter
and air is filled, not with the buzzing sound of locust,
but the constant barrage of a TV turned up loud.

Has anyone seen John the Baptist around?
We hear he’s a good dowser.
He can lead us to water.
Do you have any idea how to contact him?

Well, it’s not that hard.
Just open the Book.

Their house numbers of listed right there in front of you.
Open up that misselette in front of you.
The numbers of written in italics just off to the side:

Mark 1:1-18.
That’s where you can find the dowser named John.

If he’s not home, try Isaiah 20:20:
Isaiah is another experienced dowser
and he’ll tell you to buck up and don’t…
whatever you do…
don’t lose hope.
In the desert, prepare the way of the Lord!
In the wasteland, make a highway for our God.

These prophets, you see, had a knack for finding water.
And on the day that you yourself were baptized with water,
you too were anointed with the gift of the prophecy.

Now, that’s has nothing to do with forecasting the future.
That’s a perversion of what the Bible means by prophecy.
Prophecy has nothing to do with guesswork.
It has everything to do with accuracy…
like the gift of the dowser, prophecy give us hope
because it is able to pinpoint the deep veins of grace in our life.

That’s also the reason that prophets are good at pointing out the sin in our life.
Because it is the build up of sin…
like a retired person’s indulgence in self-pity
or a the college kid’s indulgences in self-centeredness…
it’s plain ol’ sin
that keeps us from locating the cool, refreshing water of God’s life.

So, if you’re thirsty…
if you’re thirsty and want to drink deeply of love and joy and happiness
this Christmas…where do go to find that kind of water?

You can’t buy it at the mall.
You won’t find it under the Christmas tree.

You find it here, right here
in the hearing of God’s Word
and in the life of this parish.

You find in the experience of being Catholic…
and discover it in the Sacrament of Confession.
It’s called forgiveness. It’s called grace. It’s called a new start.
And you get a taste of it
every time you receive Holy Communion.

These aren’t just actions we go through,
they are sacraments bringing you relief in your desert.
They are the underground veins of a rushing river.

For a Texas farmer, it’s like cool water
gurgling up from an irrigation pipe

Comfort, speak comfort to my people!

For an elderly woman in a lonely apartment,
for a college student in a crowded dorm,
it’s like someone finally getting through to them
that their life is worthwhile:

Like a shepherd he leads his flock,
gathers them up and holds them close to his chest!

These are just words, they are God’s words
and they are meant for you!

And this Mass isn’t just some action we’re going through.
It’s telling us we don’t have to live in a desert;
it’s proof that we don’t need to settle the rest of our life
for locusts or yogurt or warm beer.
Because this altar is God’s table.
And if have the courage to approach this alter
and leave your self-centeredness behind
and actually begin to place your life in God’s hand,
well then,
things are going to change.
Big time!

Prepare the way of the Lord,
make straight his paths.

This isn’t wishful thinking.
It’s God’s promise we’re hearing!

That means that when God has his way,
the arid regions of our world…
from Texas to Mexico to Iran and Iraq
will be watered with compassion
and flood over with peace.

And it means your own life is going to change too.
That broken land you call your soul,
that broken heart, your broken dreams…
they’re going to bloom.

And that rough road you’re traveling?
It’s going to get paved!

Ask any Texas farmer,
he’ll tell that a lot depends on a good dowser.

I’m sending my messenger ahead of you, says the Lord.

Did you hear that?
God has sent us a good dowser who knows where good water lies.

Listen to the Prophet John,
and let the word of God get through to you!

Let the Sacraments of your church get you back on your feet!

Do this, and you’re bound to strike a strong well.
Don’t lose hope…
you’ll get the water you need.

Skydiving for Jesus: The First Sunday of Advent

It's Advent, Try Skydiving!
by Fr. Jim Schmitmeyer

Do you dream very often?
Some people remember their dreams, some don’t.

I myself don’t remember many,
but the ones I do remember
tend to be the kind where you find yourself
looking over a ledge or you’re standing on a cliff then suddenly you’re falling.
(I’m always glad I wake up before I hit the ground!)

Do you ever dream that something is chasing you?
You’re running as fast as you can from a bear.
Then, on your right, a lion leaps toward you.
On your left a snarling tiger!

Then you wake up. Sit up in bed. Look around the room.
In the light of day, what seemed so frightening
is nothing to be afraid of.
The day lies open before you.
Time to get up and go to work.

Sounds a bit like today’s gospel.
In today’s passage from Mark, Jesus tells a story about a man
who leaves on a journey.
He assigns his workers certain tasks to perform
then tells them not to fall asleep on the job.

Sounds something like a parent
yelling upstairs to the kids,
“Wake up! There’s work to be get done.”

So, which would you rather be?
Drowsy or Alert?

Which would prefer:
being awake and productive…
or running for your life from tigers in your sleep?

The point of today’s gospel is that a true believer
faces life fully alert.
What does it mean to be alert?

Last night, at the homily reflection group
we were talking about being “alert,”
when a young woman from our parish
spoke of the time she went sky-diving.
Soon, everyone in the room was on the edge of their seats.

Well, jumping out of plane
is one example of being intensely alert.
(If that doesn’t wake you up, nothing will!)

But, what’s it mean to be alert spiritually?

Well, unfortunately, we don’t usually put religion
into the same category as extreme sports.

But don’t be deceived.

Giving your life over to Christ
can be just as exciting;
more demanding,
more exhilarating than strapping on a parachute and jumping out a plane.

The challenge of Jesus’ words
has led some people to pack up and leave for a foreign country
in order to preach the gospel.

It’s led some folks to minister in the slums,
others to minister to the sick and dying.

This is the type of work
that requires staying awake and staying alert.

To be on the alert, that is,
for expecting the Lord any second…
no matter where you are or what you do,
that’s what it means to be a true believer.

Never mind jumping out of a plane,
downhill skiing
repelling off a cliff.
These are all exciting things to do
but do they really compare to giving one’s life…one’s entire life
over to the will of God?

It might be great fun sailing a boat across a lake
or jumping a hill on a motorbike.
But what about that moment
on a certain day,
you sense the Lord saying to you:
“Leave your toys behind, Mike.
Leave your family and your home, Denise.
I’m going to take you where you have never been before.”

And where will that be?
Well, who knows?
You yourself won’t know…unless…
unless you stay alert.

Encounters like this ---with the Lord--- can happen anytime.

And if we’re alert
they start to happen
all the time.

Extraordinary Praise for Ordinary Work: The Feast of Christ the King

"Whatever you did for the least among you, you did for me."

[Note: The first draft of my homily for this feast is posted at the conclusion of this article.]

This weekend marks the last Sunday of the liturgical year. We conclude our year-long reading of the Gospel of St. Matthew with the powerful scene from the 25th chapter where Christ, enthroned in glory, judges the people of the world according to their depth and evidence of their compassion.

One of the amazing elements in this passage is the surprise registered on the part of those who received the King's commendation. "Lord, when did we do these things for you?" It speaks to me of people whose service of others--be it rendered to children, co-workers or customers--has become as natural to them as breathing.

Below is a reflection on this passage from Sister Joyce Zimmerman, c.pp.s. which might help connect this story with the stories of many workers, parents and other weary laborers:

The kings of the earth demand from their subjects loyalty and taxes; some kingdoms require military service. Christ the King demands care for "the least of my brothers." Though all the brothers and sisters of Jesus are members of his royal family, some are without food and drink, others are naked and imprisoned. Jesus accounts care of them as care of him.

Is it not in our "ordinary work" (raising a family, punching cattle or punching a clock) that we come upon "ordinary needs" of God's people?

_________________________________________________

Homily for the Feast of Christ the King
(First draft)

What’s the difference between buying a house…
where the rooms are empty and the carpet is new…
and living in one where the closets are full and the laundry piled up?

Part of the difference is time:
An empty house requires a bit of time for its rooms to fill up.

Another part of the difference is emotion…
We find excitement in things that are new…
(like the anticipation a young person feels
when getting ready to go out on a date)

But we find security in things that are familiar
(like the sound of the garage door closing behind us
at the end of the day
or the feel of the family room in the early evening
or the soft wheezing of a baby in a crib in the middle of the night).

So, you might say that the difference between buying a house and living in a house
is one part time and two parts experience.

Can the same be said about the difference between being saved by Christ
and living in Christ?

What’s the difference between being “born again” in Christ
and living everyday…day by day…in Christ?

In American culture, when it comes to religion,
there is a lot of emphasis on the flash and excitement
of emotion and conversion.

More and more, people are talking about
dramatic moments in their lives
when a powerful feeling comes upon them
and they turn away from destructive patterns of behavior…
addictions, abusive relationships, meaningless work
and embrace a new way of life in Christ.

Suddenly, their eyes are opened
their past no longer haunts them
they discover that Christ died for them
and now intercedes for them before the throne of God the Father
and the Holy Spirit enters into their heart and soul
and, well, it’s wonderful, completely wonderful.

It’s like walking into a house
where the kitchen gleams
and the windows shine with sunlight.

It’s like a young man pulling into a driveway
to pick up his date.

This is what it’s like to experience grace as though for the first time.

It’s like coming out of the slump of depression
on a day when God gives us a slap on the shoulder
and says,
“Let’s go for a swim and get rid of that sin!”

These are days when living our faith is like stepping into a new house.

You sense a new beginning, a new stage in your life with Christ.

Like receiving Holy Communion
and kneeling next to your spouse in prayer and worship
on the day of your first wedding anniversary
and your 10th anniversary…and your 25th and your 50th.

Protestants identify this experience with “being saved.”
Catholics tend to see it as being “in the state of grace” and “being full of grace.”

It doesn’t matter how we talk about it…
What matters is that we know when it happens and can tell about it.

Like the grace that fills your spirit as hear your daughter’s voice
singing along with a song on the radio in the car
and maybe even singing a hymn next to you in church…

Like the redemption that happens when a young man goes on a high school retreat.

Like the awe that overcomes a family gone camping in the mountains.

Or the reverence that accompanies parents
as they carry a newborn child into their home for the first time.

I’m talking here about the excitement of grace.

I’m talking about the thrill that enters the soul
when a new experience of grace comes knocking
and your spirit is renewed and reborn…
and we all love this part of being saved…
we all love this part of our religion.

* * *
But the grace that fills the Church on this feast of Christ the King
is a different kind of grace.

It is not the grace of a new house,
it is the grace of a house well-lived in.

It is not the slick grace of a young man on retreat
giving his life to Christ…

rather, it is the scratchy grace of Lava soap
on the hands of mechanic as he gets ready to leave the shop
to go home for a night of paying bills,
helping his fifth grader with her math homework.

Today’s grace is not that of a gospel choir waving its arms in praise
but rather the grace of a nurse’s aid lifting a elderly man
from a wheelchair into a bed.

Today’s grace is iron-hard love etched into the face
of a man driving to Lucasville to visit his son doing time.

It’s not the grace of baptism we’re celebrating today
but the grace of on-going salvation that comes to us
by way of Atavan and bedpans…

For…

when I was sick you assisted me,
when I was in prison you visited me
and when I was naked you clothed me.

This too, is a part of our religion:

more than the thrill of something new
the daily routine of doing the good and decent thing
brings us close to God
even when we are not aware of it.

Today I pray that this final parable of Matthew’s Gospel
on this final Sunday of the liturgical year
might carry a sound similar to that of garage door closing
at the end of day…
a plain, utilitarian sound reminding us
that, at the end of the day,
the hours we work in order to feed our family,
and the efforts we extend to help those in need
and the commitments we make to stay the course through difficult times…

these things matter deeply to Christ.

And His word to us today makes it clear
that the faith that carries us to heaven
is morer like Lava soap than singing Alleluia.

Performance Appraisal (Gulp!): The 33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time

[Note: The first draft of this week's homily appears at the end of this article]

Okay, who doesn't get sweaty palms when it comes to annual performance evaluations?

I know, I know...performance appraisals are helpful in many ways. They are meant to be positive, encouraging and constructive. Yet we all know of (or have experienced) bosses who fit the description of the master in this Sunday's gospel: "a demanding person who harvested what he did not plant, reaped what he did not sow" (Matthew 25:14-30). Such employers are apt to used performance appraisals in a negative way.

And what about the bloke who gets fired at the end of the passage? Is there anyone who does not identify with him to at least some degree?

From a blue collar point of view, this reading calls for some serious thinking. The following statement from a church manuel on performance evaluation might be a good place to start:

One reason performance appraisals are looked upon with suspicion by many employees is the perception that the evaluations are usually negative and punitive in both nature and outcome. The negative use of performance appraisals may be indicative of a negative belief about people. As Christians, however, we believe that human beings are created in the image and likeness of God and are, therefore, fundamentally good. This means that change and growth are not only possible but natural and necessary elements leading to one's God-given destiny of wholeness and completeness.

I realize that this is "management talk" and many workers simply do not experience the work environment as a place where their talents are acknowledged or appreciated.

Given this situation, how might a preacher help his or her listeners better appreciate the gift of their talents?
____________________________________________________________________________________

FIRST DRAFT:

Homily for the 33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time

Jesus' stories have a way of staying with you, don’t they?
We hear them over and over and,
like a song on the Top Twenty chart,
they have a way of sticking in your head.

“The Good Shepherd”
“The Good Samaritan”
“The Prodigal Son”

We love these parables
and practically know them by heart.

But some of the parable, like the one we just heard,
have more of an edge.

Some people call this story “The Parable of the Talents.”
But given the kick-in-the-pants
that one guy gets at the end of the story
--the guy who started with only one talent and decided to bury it—
another name for the parable might be
“The Story of the Under-achiever.”

This isn’t a story about forgiveness or salvation.
It’s a lesson about accountability….
the Bible’s version of the “Annual Performance Evaluation” at work.

Performance appraisals aren’t real popular,
so this parable probably isn’t on our “Top Twenty” chart.

But it does remind me of a popular country song
that’s currently on the Top Twenty.
It’s a song by Montgomery Gentry
and, like today’s parable, it’s about an under-achiever.

Here are some of the lyrics:

A son graduatin’ from college, that was Momma’s dream.
But I was on my way to anywhere else when I turned eighteen.
When you got a fast car, you think you got everything.

I learned real quick those GTO's don't run on faith

I fell in love next thing I know
Babies came and the car got sold
Sure do miss that old Hot Rod…
Dad I wonder if I ever let you down
If you're ashamed how I turned out,
Well he lowered his voice, then he raised his brow
Said, "Let me tell you right now

That's something to be proud of
That's a life you can hang your hat on
You don't need to make a million, just be thankful to be workin'
If you're doin' what you're able
Puttin' food there on the table
And providing for the family that you love
That's something to be proud of"

In this song, a young man gets off to a tough start.
He doesn’t make it big,
but he makes it work.

And that’s what life’s about.

And that’s what this parable is about.

It doesn’t matter what we start with,
what’s important is how we finish.

Like any parent,
God wants us to end up with a life
we can hang our hat on,
a life we can be proud of.

As we make our way through November
and draw near the end of the Church’s year,
the question posed in Montgomery Gentry’s song
is one that fits today’s gospel
and the atmosphere of this time of year:
“Lord, did I let down?
Have you been disappointed in the way my life turned out?”

For us Christians, it all turns on whether
we have a faith we can hang a hat on.

Can you hear Christ saying to you today something like this:

"You don’t need to make a million,
just be thankful that you’re something with those in need."

"You don’t need to a hero,
just be thankful that you’re doing your best for me."

"You don’t need to be an angel,
just be thankful you’re practicing good virtue."

These are the “investments” that matter to Christ.
And the dividends they pay are what matter to us.

Perfect Timing: The 32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time

Sorry for the late post, folks! All Saints, All Souls, Evening Prayer, Adoration, Memorial Masses...it's a busy week in church here at St. Al's.

When the liturgical calendar gets full, my connections to the work-a-day world of my parishioners gets strained. I don't like this. It's one of the reasons that I am having trouble coming up with any direct, work-related references to this week's selection of readings.

So, what do you make of the bridal party in this week's gospel reading? Do you think that the notion of timing, as in "perfect timing," might serve as an effective hook for the homily?

The catalyst for my considering this point of entry comes from recent marriage preparation sessions in which the engaged couples spoke of how, despite living near each other for years and/or frequenting the same weekend haunts, it wasn't until, as they put it, the "time was right" for them to meet. In other words, God has his ways...and his timing.

Any of your thoughts on this matter, or any other related matter, would be most helpful. [Note: A copy of a homily of mine on these readings is currently posted on the Athenaeum of Ohio website: www.mtsm.org.]

___________

Homily for the 32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time
(Second Draft)

I’m sure you’ve heard the phrase,
“Close. But no cigar.”

And you’ve heard this phrase:
“Close doesn’t count…except in horseshoe.”

Well, the Bible has its own way of talking about
what it’s like to be
just shy if hitting the mark.

The lesson is told in stories we all know:

Moses almost makes it to the promised land.
Peter almost makes it across the water.
The rich young man almost had the courage to give up his creature comforts.
And today we hear about the five of the young bridesmaids
who almost made it to the wedding reception.

We’ve heard these Bible stories many times.
But I doubt if they are not among our favorite.
Most likely, when these particular passages are read to at Mass,
we listen…and wince.

And the reasons are obvious.
They make us think about the fish we almost caught.
The promotion we almost got.
The career change we almost made.
The girl we almost married.
The dream house we almost bought.
The business venture we almost took.

No one likes to be reminded of opportunities missed.
Though we learn from our mistakes,
it’s not healthy to unduly focus
on things that “might have been.”

So where do we draw the line?

Are we saying that “Monday morning quarter-backing” is okay
so long as it doesn’t bleed into Tuesday?

And what about this reading with the ten bridesmaids…
five are smart and five are foolish.
Is the Lord suggesting that some people just blow it
…and that’s just too bad?

Is today’s gospel a “tough luck” gospel?

So, you ran your car dry on oil?
--Too bad.
You say missed the morning flight for the all-important interview?
--Aw, shucks.
You missed the basketball team cut off because you failed your midterms?
--What do you want me to do about it?

Is that the lesson we’re to take from this gospel story
about five bridesmaid who missed out on the wedding?

I don’t think so.

(Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not making excuses for The Foolish Five
who didn’t bother to bring enough oil and lost out on making it to the wedding on time.
All I’m saying is that the message of this passage
goes deeper than
“That’s too bad; you should have thought ahead.”)

This passage goes deeper than that.

The reason we don’t recognize this, at first,
has to do with the fact that this passage is dancing with a concept
that we Americans hardly ever think about anymore.

It’s a concept we never hear advertised on TV;
a concept no one ever bothers talking about anymore.

This concept I’m talking about is wisdom.

When was the last time that word came up in a conversation of yours?

It’s an old-fashioned word, isn’t it?
It carries an old-fashioned sound
and it makes us think of elderly folks
who sit in rocking chairs, drink lemonade
and tell stories we’ve not interested in hearing.

Yet, having said all this,
when I look at this passage about wisdom,
I don’t find any retirement age characters.
I don’t even see any middle aged characters.

Who are the main characters?
Why, they are young maidens.

Now, since this story about wisdom
is populated with young people,
that tells me that our notion of wisdom is somehow lacking.

It looks to me like our idea of wisdom misses the mark.
It might be close but it won’t win a cigar.

Ss maybe, when we think of wisdom,
we shouldn’t think of rocking chairs and lemonade.

The gospel today is telling us that,
when we think of wisdom,
we should picture
a young girl waking in the middle of the night
in an alleyway in an ancient town.

And we should picture the light of oil lamps
dancing on mud-caked walls.
as the friends of this young girl whisper and reach for sandals.

And in the shadows we see the girl
cup the flame of her lamp
to keep it from being extinguished
in the rustling confusion that surrounds her.

She checks the sky, she checks her flask of oil.
She waits. She continues to wait.
Somehow she knows the Bridegroom can be far off.

That’s the point of the story.
The entire passage hinges on that moment when
a young girl, in a dark and confusing place, who keeps hope.

* * *

Can you think of other examples of this virtue called wisdom?

How about a mother sitting across her table from her husband…
a man, angry and hurt, who has not talked to their son for over a year.
She takes his hand and says, “Pick up the phone, John. Call him.”

The man sighs, pulls back, turns away.
Her sorrow deepens but she’ll ask again.
Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next week.
She won’t give up. She won’t lose hope…
because she is wise.

And it is evident in what she does and does not do:

She doesn’t pry. She doesn’t manipulate. She doesn’t demand.
Rather, she trusts…she trusts in God.
And deep in her soul, at a place deeper than any sorrow can penetrate,
she knows that her hope will not be disappointed.

She is wise.

Or what about this example.

A high school swim coach with an athlete on her team…
a young girl who shows tremendous potential on the high dive.
The coach knows that this girl possesses great talent and ability.
But troubles at home and troubles at school
make it hard for the young swimmer
to be responsible.

Then one day young girl talks back to her coach,
refuses to put forth the effort,
throws in the towel
and does not show up for practice for two weeks.

When she finally returns
the coach is surprised.

At first she doesn’t know what to say to the young swimmer standing in front of her.
Part of her wants to chide her, yell at her, lash out at her.
But she reaches past those emotions,
reaches for the memory of a graceful dive this girl once performed
and could perform again.

The coach is wise. She holds her tongue and reaches for hope.
For a moment she recalls her own days of confusion and rebellion.
God did not turn his back on her
and neither will she turn her back
on the difficult girl standing before her.

She is wise
and it is her wisdom makes her an effective coach.

* * *

How about the rest of us?

Amid the shadows of confusing times
or troublesome situations
do we scurry about looking for more oil;
rushing to grab a quick solution?

Or do we stay that in dark alley
and warm ourselves with the flame of hope…
the flickering light that Christ,
in his love and care,
has placed within our hearts?

If so, we’ve drawn close to wisdom.

Wisdom waits on the Lord.
And the Lord does not disappoint.