You might think you’re funny, but here are a few tips on what not to say in jest.
1. To the mail carrier: “Have you had a rabies shot recently? I can’t find my dog.”
2. To the traffic cop: “Gosh, you’re not drunk again, are you?”
3. To the mechanic: “That blue wire there is either the detonator for a car bomb, or part of my son’s science project. The worst part? An employee just walked off the job all disgruntled and my son is making some sort of dirty bomb for a science project.”
4. To the ice cream truck man: “Be careful little hands what you do!”
5. To the neighbor: “I probably should have said this earlier but I saw a family of rats burrowing under your house last week. No worries! Our python loves rats and got into your house with no problem.”
6. To your spouse: “I changed my status to “single” on Facebook two weeks ago, that’s why I was gone this weekend. I thought you were cool with it.”
7. To the Jehovah’s Witness: “I don’t want to talk with you unless can sit down together, in my tub, of course. You like lavender-scented bubble bath?”
8. To the Little League Coach: “I have a concealed weapons permit. You just never know when someone’s gonna bench your kid.”
9. To your tax preparer: “I did all my bookkeeping on post it notes. There’s like ream here, you don’t mind right?”
10. To the barista, “All I have is pennies.”
11. To the library: “Here’s my book. Yes, it’s damp…You’re going to think this is hilarious!”
12. To the garbage man: “What’s worse than your little guys having the runs and super cheap trash bags? Yeah, I don’t know either. I hope you have a light touch.”
13.To your pastor: “I was in your office last month when you were on vacation. I installed “Covenant Eyes” …so, we know all the naughty sites you’ve been visiting.”
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Read “PART II: 13 inappropriate things to say to your family members”…don’t miss the next one, sign up for new content in the sidebar.
Inspired by the open heart of Henri Nouwen, I am including my own thoughts that also are in some ways prayers too. You may think of this as an Open Diary. I will share them with you, not every day, but once in a while. Though these are notes I am writing to myself, some of them may have resonance with you. I hope so.
Open Diary
You have given and you are empty. Not forever empty, but for now. Weary but not forgotten by God. You must, like you tell others to do, find your center and the place where Love resides. This Love is not you, but Other. Not only Other, but God who is and within and part of your being. Hold on to your first love and be known and healed.
Don’t try to be everything everyone hopes you are or wants you to be for them. Be sincere and true and let God find them where they are as well.
There is always a curve in the walk. A turn in the road and you are only given a piece of what lies ahead. This is because God loves you and knows you. Trust God in this. Be well in your soul as you set your heart into God’s hand.
Being empty means you are ready to be filled.
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I’ll spare you a corresponding photo, but Luna, our chocolate lab, tried to bring a dead rabbit into the house.
Not long ago, just after Luna began adjusting to us and as her new family, I took her outside for her final bathroom break of the day.
She sniffed around as usual and then slowly blended into the inky night. Chocolate labs are pretty tough to spot at night, unless you catch the light reflected off the backs of their eyes. I waited. Then sensing that she might smell something and head off after it, I called to her. Nothing. Again I called and a few more times.
I heard the jingle of her collar in the weeds and then she pranced back with something furry in her mouth.
Not quite the hunter, Luna found an already killed and gutted rabbit and brought the carcass back. She wanted to bring it inside and share it. I screamed. And she seemed stunned.
“Put it down. Put it down. No, girl. Get inside.” I said.
She dropped it–mortified. Clearly she was a mix of mystified and disappointed you could just tell by her face. She sneaked inside and kept checking back to see what could be the matter. For days after we hosed down the back area where she dropped her present she would sniff and make some attempts to roll in the smell.
Gone were her chances to provide for the pack, at least in that way.
I wonder if we’re like that too sometimes. Trying to provide or contribute, thinking we’re doing a great job, and really God knows that our contributions are more like rotten carrion. It’s incomprehensible sometimes to us why somethings we’re doing won’t work, but for reasons that escape us God wants us to put down our treasured booty and come back inside.
I don’t think God wants us to give up our “doggie-like ways” or our “doggie-ness”, after all God made us people entirely on purpose. He knows we tend to get into trouble sometimes. Nevertheless some habits are important and healthy to break. And just like I started attaching Luna to her chain during outdoor pit stops maybe sometimes we have to get reigned in too.
Before I follow up (click here for part I), I want to say that I’ve learned that talking too much about a splendid spiritual experience is problematic:
1. There’s really no way language can encompass something mystical (an experience with the divine). It just won’t translate.
2. Sometimes the more you sort it out the more the sweet memory lifts in a puff and vaporizes. I just hate doing that to it. It’s like squeezing a kitten until you hear a pop. Bad idea.
(And the details work more like forensics too, like writing a research paper on your first kiss. By paragraph three you just regret starting to tackle the project at all. Not that I tried to do that, because that would be weird.)
I don’t pray the whole time when I go away for a prayer retreat. I have a Brother Lawrence life of faith, mostly. Integrated. That means Life is Prayer. Prayer is lived. Each breath is an exchange of that gift of life up into the atmosphere. That hope and petition… and God is everywhere, receiving it with a smile.
Sometimes when I tell people I go for a whole day to pray, I get weird looks. They think it must be work or simply beyond boring. Or worst of all…that it’s super spiritual and religious. It’s not whatsoever. It’s carnival of inner joy. I wish it for everyone.
A typical day away
So when I’m there, I turn off my phone, I walk the halls or the grounds, enjoy the paintings, sculptures, the plants, gardens, wildlife and scenery. I pray, worship, and intercede for others in the onsite chapel or in the little alcoves, prayer rooms, the library, or benches outdoors. When I get stiff I stretch and walk a bit more. I journal, write prayers, take notes and a few photos, and I read scripture or devotional books… just short bits. They have an art room, so sometimes I draw or paint. I enjoy snacks I brought and a good hearty lunch on the grounds. I make sure that nothing is done out of obligation or becomes drudgery. Sometimes I just sit there and be. Many times. I allow myself to truly relax and be myself. How life-giving it is. My heart fills up. It is truly sacred space. Somehow more fully the permission is given, the place is consecrated for pilgrims to come alive and enjoy it all, and feel loved ever deeply by our good Maker. Do you like picnics? It’s like that.
Sometimes I feel the shine of God and sometimes it seems God is thinking and being quiet next to me. We’re friends and friends can do that.
So, instead of going into everything I enjoyed and relished in the details, I’ll share a few field notes and let the rest be hidden to ponder in my heart.
• The Sacred will hush you and bring you home.
• As jars of clay filled with treasure (God within) we need rest and reconnection to be cleaned out and readied for God’s use in holy work.
• Life is short, bitter-sweet, and suffused with exquisite joy and ravaging sorrow–all that makes us more human but it takes divine healing through it to become whole. We are simply too fragile to do “being human” apart. Beside God, we need people who love God. People have God inside, and that helps.
• The birds aren’t frantic as I assumed for too long; they are alive with work. Excited to be themselves.
• Deep calls to Deep. In God’s whispers the deepest parts of ourselves are stirred yet we often mistake it for other things.
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When was the last time you got away?
If you’d like to go and you live near Reading/Lebanon, Pa, let me know. I’m always happy to go with a companion. I travel there with a friend or two, then we go off, each own our way to enjoy God or pray and then meet back up for lunch and sometimes discuss it a bit.
I also offer a guided experience there, and more info for that is here if you are interested.