Which way do you live?

In her book, A Circle of Quiet, Madeleine L’Engle tells of her student who wanted to know if she believed in God. Madeleine replied…

There are three ways you can live life… You can live life as though it’s all a cosmic accident; we’re nothing but an irritating skin disease on the face of the earth. Maybe you can live your life as though everything’s a bad joke. I can’t.

Or you can go out at night and look at the stars and think, yes, they were created by a prime mover, and so were you, but he’s aloof perfection, impassible, indifferent to his creation. He doesn’t care, or, if he cares, he only cares about the ultimate end of his creation, and so what happens to any part of it on the way is really a matter of indifference. You don’t matter to him, I don’t matter to him, except possibly as a means to an end. I can’t live that way, either.”

Then there’s a third way: to live as though you believe that the power behind the universe is a power of love, a personal power of love, a love so great that all of us really do matter to him. He loves us so much that every single one of our lives has meaning; he really does know about the fall of every sparrow and the hairs of our head are really counted. That’s the only way I can live.

I want to believe that I’m living the third way. But it’s only true if others–family, friends, neighbors, coworkers, the cashier who checks me out, the drivers with whom I share the road–can testify to it. I am only living in L’Engle’s third way when I affirm that every single one of their lives has meaning to God, and therefore has meaning to me because God has created us to share in his love.

Perhaps you might find some time today to sit in the quiet and ponder these three ways of living. Can you ask God to help you see which way you truly live?

How much do we care?

There are two kinds of, “I’m sorry.”

The first kind is the apology of responsibility, of blame and of litigation. It is the four-year old saying to his brother, “I’m sorry I hit you in the face.” … The other kind of sorry is an expression of humanity. It says, “I see you and I see your pain.” This is the sorry we utter at a funeral, or when we hear that someone has stumbled.

You don’t have to be in charge to say you’re sorry. You don’t even have to be responsible. All you need to do is care.                                                                                                            -Seth Godin (read the entire post here)

I just returned from a healing prayer ministry conference. For two days I experienced people who cared. They cared enough to say, “I’m so sorry you have had to endure that.” They carecaringd enough to pray for me and every other participant. They cared enough to speak words of blessing and encouragement over us, corporately and individually. They cared enough to labor on our behalf to plan and execute the conference that brought healing of body and spirit to so many.

How many people do I pass by each day who are wounded and hurting, who just need someone to truly see them and offer them a respite from their pain. Perhaps it’s a smile or a kind word they need. Maybe they just want someone to literally look them in the eye rather than a passing glance. A prayer may be the lifeline they desperately need.

“Pray for–bless–everything that moves, and leave the results to God!” the conference leader exhorted us. Amen!

As a Christian, I can offer the love of Christ to those in need, a healing balm like none other. What’s more, I am called and empowered to do so! And isn’t the body of Christ as a whole called to do the same? Christ himself is the great Healer! The Church is the hands and feet and mouthpiece of Christ, bringing healing and truth, freedom from sin’s chains.

[Jesus said] “And so I am giving a new commandment to you now—love each other just as much as I love you.  Your strong love for each other will prove to the world that you are my disciples.”  -John 13:34-35

How are we doing, Church? How much do we really care?