Thursday, January 24, 2013

Thursday, January 24, 2013

 Today’s text

Psalm 91:11, 13-16
For he will command his angels concerning you
   to guard you in all your ways.
On their hands they will bear you up,
   so that you will not dash your foot against a stone. …

Those who love me, I will deliver;
   I will protect those who know my name.
When they call to me, I will answer them;
   I will be with them in trouble,
   I will rescue them and honor them.
With long life I will satisfy them,
   and show them my salvation.


A beloved old face appears this morning. I hear my tired friend’s shaky voice on the phone as he tries to smile through the sad acknowledgment that he can and should no longer drive.

He is losing his freedom, his body falling at unpredictable moments, control of life slipping away.

Old age is tunnel, ever-narrowing until you can barely move, walk, drive or travel. One just is there, alive, one hopes with someone with whom you can share you time, your soul, your unfulfilled hopes and sweeter memories.

My heart sank as I listened to his tired voice confide the inevitable. I hate it. I hate to see him lose his strength. I hate that the tunnel of age is closing in on him, and I hope his soul will not also be held captive.

I want him to remember his heart is not so worn but remains supple and free. His soul can still rise and touch the Heart that will make his old heart sing in the freedom of one who knows he is so much more than a failing body, so much more than a man facing the darkness.

I want him to know that the Heart of Eternity in-dwells his heart.

He tastes that Heart in every love he has ever loved and in the love he knows even now. He sees that Heart in the beauty the races through his window with each new rising sun. He feels it in those golden rays that awaken hope for a life where the sun never sets.

Call to the Heart, dear old friend. Call to that Heart you know within your own heart. Say the Holy Name. Name his Jesus, Lord. Name him Infinite Love and Constant Friend.

Feel the rays of warmth shining from his face, his arms, his heart, warming your tired limbs.

Call his name. Repeat it on your breath. Feel it fill your heart with love and lift your soul far above the confines of the walls that close around you.

Yourself rise beyond narrowness and fly like a bird, rescued from captivity, soaring and playing on the currents of grace that will never let you down.

They will bear you up until the blessed hour when you fly into the Arms who have always held you.

Until then, old friend, say the name, say the name … and soar.

Pr. David L. Miller

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