God knows I have an incurable weakness for sunsets. There is something in them that is so far beyond words and even thoughts. Sunsets are momentary evidence, quick little reminders, that there is undoubtedly a realm beyond this one, and it is glorious.

True to his nature, God has graced me with several sunsets that are true depictions of the term, “breathtaking.” The craggy cliffs of Mendocino, the crystal white beaches of Grand Cayman, and the majestic oceans of Kauai have all been postcard-perfect settings for the closing moments of day.

But this time, the location was anything but exotic. In fact, the sun spread its departing glory from one end of the horizon to the other, as we stood in awe - - in the very unexotic parking lot of H.E.B. No majestic mountains to frame its beauty. No roaring ocean to announce its arrival. Just your typical suburban noise pollution - - horns honking, carts banging, car trunks slamming. Yet in the midst of the mundane, a plume of cloud stretched up and over, like a rainbow’s arch. Directly over our heads, cotton ball clouds flanked the giant plume. The entire sky was streaked with indescribable colors, proclaiming the end of an otherwise, very ordinary day.

I was so grateful my husband was with me, and even more grateful that he was as awestruck as I. We leaned against the car together, aware but unconcerned that the Blue Bell was melting in our cart. Awestruck, we stood speechless in the presence of the Sacred.

The next day, in my alone time with God, I was still amazed by the entire experience of the previous evening. After thanking him again and again, he spoke to me in the way only God speaks. If I had to put it in human words, it would be, “That was just as valuable to me as any effort you’ve ever made to please me.”

I’ve learned so much by pondering his words. Daily quiet times are an effort on my part. I am the “doer,” and God is the receiver. Or so it seems. The same can be said of attending church, Bible studies, service projects, etc. But the sunset was his effort, and I was the receiver. I am deceived when I think my “doing” is more valuable to God than appreciating his “doing.” Maybe he’s not as impressed with my spiritual disciplines as I assume he is!

We think that what we “do” racks up more God-points than simply being present. We’re all about working, pleasing, and earning. He’s all about being, seeing, and enjoying. Since the sunset experience had nothing to do with any effort on my part, it couldn’t possibly “count” as much, could it? Ahhh, what a tangled web we weave!

Why do we pray, read the Bible, or attend church? Isn’t it for a sense of connectedness? To feel his presence? To know his heart? To experience oneness with him? That is certainly my intention. Yet standing in the noisy parking lot of H.E.B. without a Bible or a prayer list, I was more connected to God and to my husband than any other time I can remember.

If the goal is to truly connect with our Maker, does it really matter how or where that connection takes place? Better yet, does it matter who actually puts forth the effort – God or I?

St. Peter’s Basilica is holy ground when Handel’s Messiah resonates through its core. So is my favorite chair, as I sip a cup of Earl Grey and close my eyes to be still and know. And perhaps even more astounding, the asphalt H.E.B. parking lot is holy ground when a glorious sun slowly sinks into the horizon……… and two people stop to notice.

I took my sunset-colored Golden Retriever to the park today, one we’ve never been to before. The weather has been unusually beautiful in Houston; and I felt like doing something different, so I let Lady in on my celebration of the day’s beauty.

We broke out of our normal routine, which seemed appropriate for the day. I let her lead. She could sniff whatever she wanted, explore wherever she chose, and blaze a new trail, if that made her happy.

For the most part, it was great. I just wasn’t expecting her to discover a lake. Nor was I expecting her response to it. With the vigor of a child entering Toys-R-Us, she took off running, with me on the other end of the leash, holding on by my fingernails. I could’ve stopped her. I weigh more. Surely I would be justified in calling things to a halt, right? She’d had her time of independence and exploration. I had even let her lead, for heaven’s sake. Besides, my upholstery had just been Armor-All’d, and I didn’t have a towel, and the banks of the lake were really muddy, and maybe there were even snakes in it, and…blah, blah, blah.

I let go of the leash and cheered her on as she dived into the water. It was pure elation. She splashed, looked back at me, splashed some more, went for a swim, then plopped herself down on the muddy bank, with the look of a self-satisfied Olympian. It was quite a day. One I won’t let slip from my memory for a long time.

Sometimes, reflecting back on something makes it even more valuable than living it. Its significance somehow increases with our pondering. We suddenly realize its “unordinariness,” though it seemed meaningless when we were living it. Thanks to Marcus Borg and the Fifth Century Celtic Christians, I’ve learned such experiences could be called “thin places.” A thin place is where the veil between heaven and earth momentarily lifts, and we behold God. It’s anywhere are hearts are opened, and we experience “the earth filled with the glory of God.”

Watching Lady swim was a thin place for me today. I saw that I’ve mellowed lately, and it’s not just because I’m getting older. It’s because God is helping me let go of so many things I thought I could never part with. Today, I saw that I have let go of my own leash. A leash God never put on me. A set of restrictions he never intended. A list of limitations that defies the purpose of Jesus’ life. So why did I live so long on an unnecessary chain? Because it was safe. It was predictable. And it was very familiar.

But my leash is gone now. Just as letting go of Lady’s leash allowed her to dive, explore, venture, and experience, I’ve been liberated to dance around some new banks of water myself. Some have been muddy, and some have been clean. But all have been a necessary part of my freedom.

At the end of our beautiful-day-in-Houston celebration, I had a huge mess to clean up. Muddy paw prints all over the car, a puddle of water on the floorboard, slobber on the dashboard. But it was so worth it for one thing - the look of joy on Lady’s face. It’s engraved on my mind. I can’t help but think that my response is not too disimilar from God’s when he sees us checking things out, searching for truth, and totally experiencing life.

And the messy consequences of our explorations? Ah well, if we’ve truly broken free from the leash, I think we can leave even that to God.

I love Fridays. For me, Friday is the end of my work week and the beginning of flex time. Not that weekends are do-nothing days; but the doing is different, and somehow that makes it better. » Continue Reading

I certainly was not in the market for another dog. One 95-pound male golden retriever was quite enough, thank you. But I was very interested in finding a female the same beautiful red color, envisioning what adorable puppies they would produce. » Continue Reading

“The Kingdom of God.” “The Kingdom of Heaven.” “Thy Kingdom come.” “The rule and reign of the Kingdom.” “The Kingdom of God is like a treasure.” “The Kingdom of God is like a fishing net.” “The Kingdom of God is like a pearl merchant.”

I’ve heard these terms all my life, believed something about them, but never really nailed it down. It’s always been illusive and mysterious. What is the Kingdom? Is it what we experience when we die and go to heaven? Is it the compilation of all those who believe in Jesus as savior? Is it some type of Utopia that we wish were not a fairy tale? » Continue Reading

Today I come before You, Jesus — face to face. Though I’ll want to stay at your feet and worship You there, You lift me to You, and I am unable to resist.

My unworthiness doesn’t matter. My failures don’t count. My sins are a thing of the past. And I drink deeply from eyes of endless, overwhelming, transforming love. » Continue Reading

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We are in such a beautiful season, I think it would be good for us to review one of the many reasons we have to celebrate. The life of Christ reminds us that as unworthy as we are, He has made us worthy through His love. Merry Christmas, my friends! » Continue Reading

The older I become, the more I appreciate people who are gut-level honest. Especially if that person is in a position of Christian leadership and unafraid of the truth as Jesus told and lived it.

That’s why I love people like Mike Yaconelli, who doesn’t hesitate to state — in writing — that not only has he disappointed God many times, but he has been disappointed BY God a few times. Knowing he was crazy in love with God, somehow makes his bold statements and rare vulnerability not only okay, but appreciated. They invite me to wrestle with my own uncertainties, without feeling like I’m committing high treason. » Continue Reading

“If you are thirsty, come to me! If you believe in me, come and drink!”
Ps. 7:37

It is God who causes us to thirst. He does this for a very specific reason, which is made clear in this scripture: so we will come to him! » Continue Reading