June 21

Jesus doesn’t promise calm seas. But He does promise to calm us in every sea.

“Insanity is doing the same thing over and over, and expecting a different result."-- Albert Einstein

The Boat Is a Symbol for the Church
The boat is a symbol for the church. It has been that way from the beginning. The ship has always been a symbol for the church. The logo for the ecumenical movement in our day is the symbol of a ship upon the sea. The Roman Catholic Church refers to itself as "the bark of Peter" which means "the ship of Peter." Architecturally, that part of the sanctuary in which all of you sit is called the "nave." Up front we have the chancel. Out back we have the narthex. That's "churchspeak." But where you are is the nave. The word "nave" is obviously linked, linguistically, to the word "naval." Literally, "nave" is the Latin word for "ship." Even as we sit here in church, we are in the boat with the disciples. And, as Al Gurley is fond of pointing out, if you look up at the ceiling, you can see the ship's prow, albeit upside down.

The father of a daughter is nothing but a high-class hostage. A father turns a stony face to his sons, berates them, shakes his antlers, paws the ground, snorts, runs them off into the underbrush, but when his daughter puts her arm over his shoulder and says, “Daddy, I need to ask you something,” he is a pat of butter in a hot frying pan.
-- Garrison Keillor

Four Things You Cannot Recover
The stone ... after it is thrown.
The word ... after it is said.
The occasion ... after the loss.
The time ... after it is gone.

Remember ... "Only one life, 'twill soon be past. Only what's done for Christ will last."

Have you ever tried to accomplish a task using the wrong tool? It’s like trying to turn a slotted screw with a Phillips’ screwdriver! They don’t fit, the screw doesn’t turn. You need the right tool to match the requirements of the job. Building a household of faith is much the same way. Our Scripture lessons for today tell us God needs willing hearts, attitudes of reconciliation, and “just the right person with the right gifts for the right job.” You may wonder if you possess the right tools/skills for “faith-building” - you do, God has already given them to you. So stop hitting that nail with the handle of the screwdriver!


My Dad's Hands
Bedtime came, we were settling down,
I was holding one of my lads.
As I grasped him so tight, I saw a strange sight:
My hands. . .they looked like my dad's!

I remember them well, those old gnarled hooks,
there was always a cracked nail or two.
And thanks to a hammer that strayed from its mark,
his thumb was a beautiful blue!

They were rough, I remember, incredibly tough,
as strong as a carpenter's vice.
But holding a scared little boy at night,
they seemed to me awfully nice!

The sight of those hands - how impressive it was
in the eyes of his little boy.
Other dads' hands were cleaner, it seemed
(the effects of their office employ).

I gave little thought in my formative years
of the reason for Dad's raspy mitts:
The love in the toil, the dirt and the oil,
rusty plumbing that gave those hands fits!

Thinking back, misty-eyed, and thinking ahead,
when one day my time is done.
The torch of love in my own wrinkled hands
will pass on to the hands of my son.

I don't mind the bruises, the scars here and there
or the hammer that just seemed to slip.
I want most of all when my son takes my hand,
to feel that love lies in the grip.