My mother had many extraordinary gifts. A beautiful soprano voice. A caring heart. A fierce devotion to family. Dedication to church. She saw the good in everyone. She sent birthday cards to everyone in her overstuffed address book. On the corner of the desk in the den was always a stack of cards to be mailed. For my brother and me, she compiled photo albums. I have three volumes; Steven probably does too. Have you been feeling nostalgic in these days of self-quarantine and physical distancing? I pulled out Volume One this morning. It is so moving and touching to think of the love my Mom poured out into putting those pictures in. Locks of hair from my first haircut. Baptism certificate. Every birthday. Kindergarten class photo (at my 40^th high school reunion last year, I had pictures taken with the four of us there from that class). The studio picture taken on the occasion of every birthday, with my brother’s picture at the same time. My 8^th grade band concert program (looking at the names that have become Facebook friends!).

When we read God’s Word, we try to glean some fresh insight in familiar passages. That is also part of the preaching task. When I look through my photo album, Volume One, I try to do the same. I see warmth. Joy. Love. The grounding foundation of family and home centered on God. God who is at the same time tangible yet unseen. Faith in knowing that our destiny, our hope, our security lay in the Almighty’s hands. We all have journeys in our small boats, navigating treacherous waters. Our Lord is nearby, calming our anxious fears. He steers us through the perilous seas, around the bends in the rivers when we can’t see what lies ahead. My upbringing looks quite happy through the pages of Volume One. It was. The unseen were the times I had night terrors, was bullied at school, felt emotionally and socially unprepared for middle school. You know, normal childhood stuff. Looking back and reflecting, who of us could ever have imagined how our lives would eventually turn out? It is humbling, almost embarrassing, to think of how good I had it. When we are kids, we don’t see the depth in the stories of our friends and classmates. I am sure that some of them had tragic lives – broken homes, no faith foundation, maybe even the same apprehensions and uncertainties as me. The waters that our small boats navigate are captained by the sure and steady hand of our Great Sustainer.  We feel for those who do not know of such a Captain. If we are bold enough, we disciple them towards a relationship that guarantees safe harbor at the end of our journey. We faithfully sail on, trusting in the One who loves us unconditionally.

Pastor Art