Wednesday, August 29, 2018

Luke 1:34-37

Mary said to the angel, ‘How can this be, since I am a virgin?’ The angel said to her, ‘The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God. And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren. For nothing will be impossible with God.’ 

Who knows?

A touching and much-loved Advent song asks a poignant question, “Mary did you know?”

Did you know your child is the gift of God’s loving presence? Did you know he would bless, heal and set souls free? Did you know he would experience the heights of joy and the bitterness of hatred? Did you know you would watch him die, executed in excruciating pain?

No, how could she? None of us know where following Jesus will take us.

Jesus calls us to be with him, to share his life and love and to reveal his kingdom in acts of compassion, liberation and justice in the common places of our lives. But we do not know exactly what will come.

We do not know who we will meet or what surprises, pleasant or not, are just around the corner. We do not know whether we will serve him in a life filled with health and vitality or amid the struggle and disease. We do not know if our families and friends will accept our commitment to Jesus and his mission or whether they will think us strange ... or worse.

But we do know this: Jesus invites to stay near him, in prayer and meditation, worship and fellowship that we may know him. He longs for intimate companionship with us that he may generously share all that is him.

Amid all we do not know, we know this. And that’s enough.

Pr. David L. Miller

Tuesday, August 28, 2018

Luke 12:32-34

‘Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions, and give alms. Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also

A communion of souls

No one can steal what the heart knows. Everything else can be lost, stolen, defaced or destroyed, but not the Love the heart knows … and to Whom it cleaves.

I see you Jesus. The scene appears clear and clean in the eye of imagination. You turn your head to look at me as you lead us down the road of our lives. “It is the Father’s good pleasure,” you say. It is your pleasure, too. The twinkle in your eye tells me that you know the treasure, the kingdom, so freely given.

The kingdom is not a thing nor even a place, but being with you. It is communion with you and with all whom you draw into the circle of hunger and knowing around you.

It is a circle of hunger … for we long to be home where we are fully welcome and wanted, where our restless hearts release life’s burdens and our souls breathe free.  And a circle of knowing … for when we are with you we know you are our home, the souls you gather are our true family, our soul mates.

The kingdom is a communion of souls gathered by the Love you are.

Gathering us into this communion makes you smile. It brings you pleasure. Your eyes sparkle with joy at the gift you give us.

I see your pleasure, Holy One. I feel it, and in feeling it I know you … and I know what you want for me, for us all—a treasure that is now and forever.

So I will follow you and try to do what you want me to do, so that I may know you … in that smile.

Pr. David L. Miller  

Monday, August 27, 2018

Luke 5:27-32

After this he went out and saw a tax-collector named Levi, sitting at the tax booth; and he said to him, ‘Follow me.’ And he got up, left everything, and followed him. Then Levi gave a great banquet for him in his house; and there was a large crowd of tax-collectors and others sitting at the table with them. The Pharisees and their scribes were complaining to his disciples, saying, ‘Why do you eat and drink with tax-collectors and sinners?’ Jesus answered, ‘Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick; I have come to call not the righteous but sinners to repentance.’

Know what I know

I want you. It is exactly this simple. I … want … you.

This is what Jesus means when he says, “Follow me.”

Don’t tell me your life is a mess. Lose the self-denigrating evaluations about why you are not good enough, ‘religious’ enough or talented enough. Forget the nonsense that there is little you know how to do or can do.

Jesus doesn’t want to hear any of it. He wants you, just like he wanted Levi, this tax collecting shyster who, like others of his time and trade, collaborated with a foreign power and charged more than he should, keeping the extra for himself.

All this would seem to exclude him from the company of a rabbi who called people to open their eyes to see and their hearts to feel the presence of God breaking into their lives.

It surprised Levi, who was likely shocked out of his shorts by Jesus’ invitation to come with him. It certainly alarmed those who believed a real spiritual teacher would have nothing to do with such an unsavory character.

Didn’t matter. Jesus still invited him along for the ride just as he invites you.

Listen to his voice: I want you. I want you to walk alongside me, to learn from me, to live the way I live, to love the things I love, to share the bread I eat and to know what I know in my heart. I want you to see and share the joy of doing what I do.

For when we do, when we follow him, when we bless as he blesses, when we share as he shares, joy soon follows, the joy of knowing the Love he is.

Pr. David L. Miller

Thursday, August 23, 2018

John 8:4-7

They said to him, ‘Teacher, this woman was caught in the very act of committing adultery. Now in the law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?’ They said this to test him, so that they might have some charge to bring against him. Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground. When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, ‘Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.’ 

Just thinking out loud

I always wondered why Jesus wrote in the dust. Maybe the gesture has no particular meaning, and there is nothing to be understood from his moment of playing in the dirt. Maybe it is just the artifice of a skillful storyteller who extends a dramatic moment to heighten suspense.

But the gesture is there, and the storyteller obviously thought it important enough to share. Why?

Was he writing her sin in the dust, knowing it would soon be kicked away by tramping feet and falling rain? Was he revealing that sin and guilt are as ephemeral as letters in the dust, especially in the presence of the great grace that is in him?

Was this a prophetic act reminding the woman’s accusers that they, like all human beings, are made from the dust—dust in the wind, destined to be blown away by the inexorable passage of time?

Not a cherry thought. But if so, Jesus’ dusty doodling remains a helpful reminder that accusers are just like the person they accuse, just as mortal, just as finite, just as broken, just as needy.

One more thought: Perhaps he was showing them that in stoning her they were trying to deny their humanity and mortality, their sin and failures, trying to convince themselves, to pretend, they were above the run of normal human beings. Lots of people believe that delusion.

All of this may be true, but perhaps it is best to cease speculating and focus on what is clear: Jesus radical and extraordinary acceptance of broken, sinful people. Every one of us.

And that is a cherry thought.

Pr. David L. Miller

Tuesday, August 21, 2018

Luke 5:5-8

Simon answered, ‘Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say were so, I will let down the nets.’ When they had done this, they caught so many fish that their nets beginning to break. So they signaled to their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both boats, so that they began to sink. But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, ‘Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!’

He doesn’t, ever

Jesus didn’t send Peter away, nor did he leave him.

Peter felt unworthy in Jesus’ presence, like the woman I recently saw weeping during Holy Communion. She didn’t come forward to the Lord’s Table to open her hands and receive the gift of God’s loving acceptance of her.

She felt unworthy, filled with shame. Her head hung on her chest lest I catch her eye and bid her to come and receive. The self-inflicted wound in her heart is great and will not soon heal.

Deep as her wounds, the heart of Christ ached at that moment, too, as did mine. I wanted nothing more than for her to come forward so I could break the loaf one more time, place bread in her shaking hands, look her in the eye and say the most blessed of words, “The body of Christ for you.”

Jesus wouldn’t have sent her away. He would not have fled, any more than he fled Peter in his unworthiness. The warmth of his smile would have evaporated the cloud of shame that shadows her heart, freeing her from every thought of unworthiness.

We know ourselves. We know the secret sins we hide lest others discover we are not everything we appear to be. We hurt others, too, through carelessness thoughts and words and when we cannot see beyond our own selfishness and desire for comfort.

We have tasted the unworthiness and shame that threatened to keep Peter … and the woman in the pew … far from the beauty of everything Christ is eager to give.

For Christ wants to give us himself, everything that is in him, all the grace and forgiveness, all the welcome and joy, the rush of love that flows from his heart.  He wants to smile on us so that we know, truly, we are forever loved and treasured … and his.

So come with open hands and open hearts to the One who doesn’t turn away, ever.

Pr. David L. Miller

Monday, August 20, 2018

1 John 1:5-7

This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light and in him there is no darkness at all. If we say that we have fellowship with him while we are walking in darkness, we lie and do not do what is true; but if we walk in the light as he himself is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin. 

Walk in the light

We know what light is. We feel it in our hearts. We see beauty or watch the happy play of children. We hear music that lifts our spirits and makes us hopeful. We enjoy a pleasant exchange with the woman who checks us out at the store or the waiter who brings food to our table.

Such moments of light lift our hearts. Negative, cynical, sarcastic thoughts disappear, and we freely give and receive the blessings of the day.

We feel love for life, energy for living, and we walk with the light of love in our hearts

Of course, great darkness remains in the world … and in us.

Darkness is all that is un-love. It is everything that drains joy, gratitude and expectation from our hearts, all the things that weigh us down so that we withdraw and become stingy and small-hearted toward others. Darkness is the cynicism that poisons our expectations about what the days will bring and what others are really like.

Abuse power and influence, greed and selfishness, narcissism and apathy toward those in need or who suffer—all this darkens the world.

But don’t let it darken your heart. Resist the pull of doubt and cynicism. Resist the descending spiral of negativity.

Return again and again to all that is light and beauty, to everything and every face that awakens gratitude and joy in your heart. Call them to mind. Savor them all. Let Light’s living presence lift you.

And give thanks. For the Light God is shines even amid the darkness ... so that, seeing and knowing, your eyes may glow with the light of the Love who is always for you.

Pr. David L. Miller

Saturday, August 18, 2018

Romans 8:5-6

For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the things of the Spirit. To set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace.

Life and peace

Breathe and feel the air flowing into your lungs ... giving you life, a gift, always, again and again. Freely bestowed.

Life in the Spirit begins with the realization of the giftedness of one’s life, for here the truth of God is known. God gives. Breath. Life. Spirit.

God’s delight is giving life to you and to all that is. The divine heart wants the life in you to be full, which means you are intended to bask in the joy and freedom of those who know they are infinitely loved by and Infinite Love, who attends us every single step and moment of our lives ... until the day we are received back into ultimate intimacy with God.

Knowing this gives life and peace, joy and the freedom. So set your mind on the Spirit. Let the Spirit of the Great Love fill you and evaporate every regret of the past and every anxiety about the future.

Do not live according to the flesh, which is to say according to your anxious, threatened ego with all its fears of being hurt, used or disrespected.

Our egos clothe themselves with titles, degrees, wins, accomplishments, real or feigned, so that we look good. It’s all a futile effort to convince our anxious hearts ... and others ... that we are good, important, to be taken seriously. This but a façade for the vulnerability, the weakness and our anxiety of being “less-than” which we feel within.

This is what it means to live according to the flesh. There is no peace there, no freedom to live and love and share your heart’s truest desires and hopes.

That happens only when we know the Love God is. So know. Today. Breathe, and set your mind on the Spirit.

Pr. David L. Miller

Monday, August 13, 2018

Psalm 104:31-34

 May the glory of the Lord endure forever;
   may the Lord rejoice in his works— 
   who looks on the earth and it trembles,
   who touches the mountains and they smoke. 

I will sing to the Lord as long as I live;
   I will sing praise to my God while I have being. 

May my meditation be pleasing to him,
   for I rejoice in the Lord.

Song of the morning

We are made for praise, for joy. Never forget this truth. It is essential.

The Holy One rejoices in creation, delighting in the earth, the planets, stars and the entirely of the cosmos—and in you. For you are the delight of God’s eye. You are the smile of joy on the divine face.

It is not right, I suppose, that I should think of you, Loving Mystery, as if you are a person with a body and face. You are beyond all that and beyond everything, truly everything I can think or imagine.

Yet, I relate to you and think of you as I can, and I know the delight, the gentle smile of purest pleasure that fills me when I look on the face of my beloved, when I hear their laughter and know all is well with them. Joy fills my being.

Can it be wrong then that I, fashioned in your image, should imagine you smiling, taking pleasure, filled with joy at the greening of the earth on a summer morning as the world awakens, cardinals’ call and golden flowers bask in sunlight?

Even more, you delight in me, in the love I know and share, in the moments when morning delight carries me away and my heart is one with the song of the morning, praising you.

It is for this that we are made: to know you in all things and to praise you, to reverence the Love you are and to serve this holy cause of living and caring for the life that surrounds us at every hand.

Fill me, today, with the joy of knowing and loving you, and I will sing your praise ‘till evening falls.  

Pr. David L. Miller

Saturday, August 11, 2018

Psalm 139:7-9

Where shall I go from your spirit?

Or where shall I flee from your presence?

If I ascend to heaven, you are there;

if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there.

If I take the wings of the morning

and settle at the farthest limits of the sea,

even there your hand shall lead me,

and your right hand shall hold me fast.

Encompassing Love

A giant eye stares from the top of a stain glass window in the church of my youth. The eye does not look threatening, nor is there any apparent compassion its steady gaze. It just stares at you from its place near the back of the church where everyone walks in … and walks out.

Look slightly to the right as you wait to shake the hand of the pastor, and you discover you are being watched by an unflinching observer who never blinks. I don’t know the intention of the artist—or the architect who placed it there, but I’d have preferred a different image at the church door as I departed.

Jesus' hands raised in blessing would have been nice. Something that said, “Go in peace, I’ll be with you … and waiting here when you return.” For that is the gracious message and comfort that meets us here: Where shall I go from your spirit?

Go, there is no place I will not be for you, no place I will not go. Go, just try to hide from me. Try to cut yourself off. Do you think Love surrenders so easily?

Go wherever and to whomever you please. Go where the road takes you. Explore every single hidden side of yourself. Go and imagine you can be alone … anywhere.

Not so. For I AM, and I AM there with you, walking alongside, waiting for you to notice Love attends your every step. I AM that Love.

I am not an unblinking eye that seeks out your every failing. I am not the Everlasting Seer ever looking over your shoulder.

I AM Encompassing Love, like the wind that caresses every contour of earth and sea, surrounding and enveloping you and all that is. Holding you fast. Always.

Pr. David L. Miller

Friday, August 10, 2018

Luke 12:27-28, 31

Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith ... Instead, strive for his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.

Breathe

I know what you want me to know, Holy One.

Come away with me, you say. Look around. Be where you are, wherever you are ... and breathe. For you and with me.

Breathe in the air of knowing there is One who loves you more than you can possibly comprehend.

Breathe in the air of freedom that is the Love I am for you. Always for you. Always will be.

Release all fevered thoughts and worries about who you are, about what you have done or failed to do, about what the future holds or about everything you think you must do. Most of those musts are self-imposed. Let go of them.

For that is not life. Life is knowing this Love, abiding, resting, feeling this Love around and within you.

Life is settling into the present moment, living what is, doing what the moment requires, then moving on, knowing that is enough. Life is knowing there is One who smiles on your very existence, eager to hear you laugh at the simple joy of being alive.

It is feeling yourself inside, surrounded and held by an Everlasting Love, knowing that you inhale this Love with every breath you take.

This is what you want me to know. This is what you want for everyone. Today.

Pr. David L. Miller

Thursday, August 9, 2018

Psalm 63:2-4, 7

So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary,

beholding your power and glory.

Because your steadfast love is better than life

My lips will praise you.

So I will bless you as long as I live;

I will lift up my hands and call on your name. …

For you have been my help

In the shadow of your wings I sing for joy

Morning prayer

This is where we start each day, with a word of praise to the One whose sanctuary is not made with human hands. You, Lord, dwell among the trees and encompass mountains tops and broad plains, the rivers and streams that flow on and on, the waters giving a sense of timelessness … and peace.

I watch the waters, and I know … you, who are as timeless as the water’s flow, on and on, bidding me to sit at water’s edge that I may know that my life, too, is carried in the current of your love, made fresh by each new awareness of you.

Creation surrounds and holds us, each part speaking our name, whispering, “I am here. I dwell amidst this beauty. All you see is the joyful play of my divine heart. Come and know me.”

Fill my heart, Holy One, as I go again to woods that surround and hold me in a womb of living beauty where birds sing and deer shyly watch as I walk, an invader in their home.

I go to see their beauty, to hear the song of birds; that is true. But really I go to hear and know you, to breathe and feel your steadfast love that is new every morning.  

Open our eyes to see and our ears to hear you in this earthly sanctuary that is our home … and yours. Grant us grace to see you in every grace and beauty, in each face we see, in moments of joy and those that call for our compassion.

Help us to see and hear and know your steadfast love. Today.

Pr. David L. Miller

Monday, August 6, 2019

Mathew 28:19-20

Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.’

Always with you

It is a mystery to me why and how the faith I hold dear is typically considered a way of believing and not a way of being and living.

Maybe it is our own fault. Thousands of books, disgorged by Christian publishers for centuries, smugly parsed the fine details of Christian doctrine dismissing all those "other religions" which believe the wrong things. 

But listen: Obey everything I have commanded, Jesus says; follow my teachings, knowing I am with you. Always.

This is not about thinking the right thoughts, holding to correct doctrines or believing a set of affirmations about who God is. It is about hearing and entering the struggle to live the way of Jesus, always knowing that the Love we have seen and known in him is ever near and always will be.

His teachings, which we are to obey, challenge every part of our lives, but they are not hard to understand: Be merciful. Show compassion. Live with generosity. Seek to forgive. Trust there is a Love who knows our needs and treasures each and every one of us, even those we do not like. But be thankful for them, too. They will challenge you to learn to live with love and justice so that you may become like the Loving Mystery, Jesus calls, Father.

And always know: I am with you, Jesus says, no matter where you are, no matter what happens to you, no matter how you feel today or will tomorrow. I am. And I am with you. Always.

We are invited to know this Love, not as an idea but as a deep interior reality. In knowing, our hearts open to become the Love who love us.

Pr. David L. Miller  

Saturday, August 4, 2018

Psalm 90:1-2

Lord, you have been our dwelling-place in all generations. Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever you had formed the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting you are God. 

With an everlasting love

Home is wherever Love finds you. And wherever Love finds your heart … you are home … wherever you are.

You are the home for which we long, Holy One.

Deep hungers move us to press beyond ourselves, beyond where we are and what we know until we find the heart’s true home where our inner longings still … as we know: This is what we truly need, this is what we always wanted but could never name. Such is our human condition.

Wherever our daily journeys take us we search for the home beyond every home we have ever known, eager to enter that place, that condition of knowing the Love beyond all others, the everlasting home that stirs our longing.

Arriving there, knowing the place in our soul for even a moment, releases streams of living water, currents of peace flowing through the heart, freshening the soul with a joy known nowhere … but in you.

With an everlasting love, you seek us. In our in-most longings you draw us to yourself that we may abide in you, resting in the everlasting love you are.

Find us today, Holy One. Seek our hearts in all the places we go and through every face we meet. Speak our name through the voices of earth and sky, color and wonder. Open our eyes to see and our ears to hear you in the wonder of everything you have made.

Fill our hearts with the joy of being totally one with you, our home from everlasting to everlasting. Even one moment of this ecstasy is enough.

Pr. David L. Miller

Monday, July 30, 2018

Matthew 17:5-7

While [Jesus] was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, ‘This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!’ When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, ‘Get up and do not be afraid.’

Get up and live

Do not let your heart be sad. Turn from every fear of what the future might bring. There is a voice that you long to hear in the depth of your being, a voice at once familiar yet far beyond your own.

It is the voice of Eternity, the voice of the One who alone can speak to the troubled and lonely corners of your being, a voice that knows every fear you have, every doubt that troubles your heart, and every wound you bear from days gone by.

The voice says once and for all time, “Do not fear. Get up. Live. Breathe. Know. Just know.”

There is a Love who knows you better than you know yourself, who knows what you need even when you cannot begin to say. There is One who dwells in the immeasurable moment of eternity and is present at the apex of your soul, hungry for you hear when fear or sadness drain energy and joy from your limbs.

Listen. Just listen to the Voice who speaks to you now: “Do not fear.”

It is the voice of the Beloved. The voice who speaks what Eternity is eager for you to know, completely, until it permeates your entire being: Do not fear.

The future will come with or without your anxious uncertainty of what the future will bring. Get up and live. Today. This day. It is all you have. It will be filled with hope and energy. Just hear this one exquisite voice.

Pr. David L. Miller

Sunday, July 8, 2018

Mark 14:32-36

They went to a place called Gethsemane; and he said to his disciples, ‘Sit here while I pray.’ He took with him Peter and James and John, and began to be distressed and agitated. And he said to them, ‘I am deeply grieved, even to death; remain here, and keep awake.’ And going a little farther, he threw himself on the ground and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him. He said, ‘Abba, Father, for you all things are possible; remove this cup from me; yet, not what I want, but what you want.’

Wakefulness          

Stay awake to who you are, to what you are called to be and do, for you are a word, a life, spoken by God as a partial expression of God’s own being.

Suffering and threat, discouragement and resistance from others and within yourself dissuades you from being that which you are. This is the central temptation of life, to be something other, something less than the soul you are.

An easier road appears that sidesteps the pain of speaking and living the truth of your life, of being the particular soul of love you are created to be and ever more to become. No human soul avoids this temptation, and everyone (except one, I suppose) falls under its sway at least sometimes.

Jesus does not fall to the power that opposes him and each of us. He prays. He stays awake to the power that tempts him and even more to the depth of his soul where he knows and hears the Voice of Love who tells him who he is and calls him to his mission.

He does not lose himself. He does not turn from the Love who lives within him to an easier way, but in suffering reveals the fullness of the divine heart, the Infinite Love who goes into death to break its power.

Staying awake is about knowing this Love, taking it in with every breath, sitting in silence and knowing you are not your mind, your thoughts, your accomplishments, failures nor even your hopes. 

You are not what others think of you nor the opinions you have long held about yourself.

Let it all go, and know: You are an expression of Everlasting Love. All that most matters is knowing this and living each moment in the freedom only such Love can give.

Life’s busy distractions and entertainments, its inevitable compromises, conflicts and pleasures, too, make it easy to lose yourself, to fall asleep and be so much less than you are. The best thing that can happen then is to feel the ache of incompletion within your heart, for that is the voice of Jesus calling you again to wake and know.

Pr. David L. Miller

Tuesday, July 3, 2018

John 13:1-5

Now before the festival of the Passover, Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. The devil had already put it into the heart of Judas son of Simon Iscariot to betray him. And during supper Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him.

Knowing who you are

Knowing who you are, you know what to do, and you have strength within to give yourself to it. Jesus knew. Do you?

He knew he would be betrayed. He knew he would suffer. But first he knew he was the presence of the Immeasurable and Inconceivable, the Love who is before time … and who is for us and all creation.

He knew the time had come to reveal the Heart who is our truest home. And knowing, he took a towel and washed the feet of his friends, like a servant. I cannot see this and not love him. It is impossible, for I see the Love by whom we are loved and I know who I am and who I can be, although I am so often not.

I am the object, the recipient, the treasured pearl of the One who is this Great Love. As are you.  

Imagine for a moment that it is your feet he washes. His hands move across the sole, then the toes, arch and top of your feet. See and know: It is our lives being caressed by the Love we have always needed but for which we could scarcely ask, ashamed of admitting our crying need and fearing such Love is impossible, an illusion.

But his hands tell us it is not illusion.

Jesus washes feet, a defining act, in which we know … who God is, who we are … and the Love we can share.

We are more blessed and noble creatures than we assume. We enter our true blessedness and nobility when we know, when the Love he is halts our driven lives and anxious efforts to prove our worth and asks, “Do you know?”

Real life starts in knowing.

Pr. David L. Miller