Wherever You Are

I took my 21-year-old grandson, Alex, to the Orlando airport on Wednesday. He flew through Toronto and Frankfort to visit a college friend in Denmark. He’ll go on to join the family in Portugal. 

I reminded Alex that when he was in high school I promised to take him with me to South Africa. I told him I won’t be keeping that promise. I’m disturbingly aware that “at this age,” I won’t be taking that kind of trip again. But I’m confident he will go and when he’s ready, I have friends in South Africa I want him to meet. 

It makes me even more grateful for the vivid memory of the opportunities I’ve had to see sights and meet people in places I never would have expected to visit when I was his age, most of it because of connections in the United Methodist Church. 

I repeated the trip yesterday with Alex parents and younger brother, Luke, who had just returned from a mission team trip to Guatemala. Their sister, Julia, will fly from Miami tomorrow to join them in Portugal before visiting Andy’s family in Croatia. 

Having made the trip since they were infants in arms, my grandkids have learned to travel light with nothing but a backpack and a passport (and their parent’s credit card!) 

Appropriately (providentially?) the lectionary scripture readings this week include Psalm 139. These lines hooked my attention as I dropped them off at the airport. 

Lord, You know when I sit down and when I stand up.
Even from far away, you comprehend my plans.You study my traveling and resting…
Where could I go to get away from your spirit?
Where could I go to escape your presence?If I went up to heaven, you would be there…
If I could fly on the wings of dawn,stopping to rest only on the far side of the ocean—
even there your hand would guide me;
even there your strong hand would hold me tight!

Meanwhile, back here in Florida, a long-time friend and colleague recently was recently diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. The prognosis is as bad as it can get. His life as we have known it may have a very brief future. Stunned. Wanting to do something and not knowing what to do, I laid claim to the same Psalm. 

If I went up to heaven, you would be there.If I went down to the grave, you would be there too!
…
If I said, “The darkness will definitely hide me;
the light will become night around me,”
even then the darkness isn’t too dark for you!
Nighttime would shine bright as day,
because darkness is the same as light to you!

Here’s what I wrote to them out of my own need for the reassurance. 

Like everyone else who knows and loves you, we’re stunned by your recent diagnosis and keep asking if there is anything we can do, all the while knowing that there’s only a limited amount any of us could actually do. We can only be with you as close as possible in prayer, love, trust and hope. But since words are the thing I usually do, here are some thoughts from my quiet time this morning.

The OT reading this week is Genesis 28:10-19, a story we got exactly backwards every time we sang “We Are Climbing Jacob’s Ladder” with lusty, adolescent spirituality. The text makes clear that the story is not about Jacob or any of us climbing up to God, but about the God who climbs down (like riding a cosmic escalator) to be here, in this place, wherever the place is that we find ourselves, even when we don’t know or can’t comprehend it. 

Just so we don’t miss the point, the lectionary links Jacob’s ladder with Psalm 139 and Romans 8:12-25. It’s downright powerful and sometime hard to believe!

It was the reminder to me that we don’t need to plead for God to be with us because God already is in this place. We can never fully escape God’s presence, even when we want to. The challenge is to be fully aware of and in tune with of God’s presence and then to live as if we actually believe it, even when what we face leaves us with “groans too deep for words.” (Romans 8:26).

So, we want to be with you any way we can, trying to hold onto the promise that God is with you “in this place,” even though this is not the place in which any of us would want you to be. And, having grow up when we did, we’ll keep singing the song, even it gets the story backwards!

For family members who “fly on the wings of dawn” and for friends who face the darkest darkness the promise is, “Surely the Lord is in this place.” 

Grace and peace, 

Jim 

I’m looking forward to being one of the speakers at the Festival of Wisdom and Grace at Lake Junaluska this summer. Come join us!